Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wanda, who is this?” Vision questions.

Wanda’s gaze shifts from her husband to the man at the door, his silver hair sparking familiarity and relief in her chest.

He smiles at her, the audience track cheering as he enters the house.

“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?”

“Pietro?”

A half-nod almost as if it wasn’t the action he wanted to make is his response. Wanda quickly pulls Peter into a tight hug, an unseen audience applauding and cheering.

“Who’s the popsicle?” Peter asks before the screen fades to black.

“I can’t find him,” Charles said, voice tight. He could immediately sense the uptick in distress and rage coming from Erik.

‘We’re not going to give up, Erik,’ Charles immediately thought to him. ‘We will find him.’

Turning away from Cerebro, Charles sent another reassuring mental nudge Erik’s way before looking to the X-Men. “Kurt, please take Jean and Raven to Peter’s mother’s house; perhaps she knows something that can help us locate him.”

Kurt’s tail flickered as he stepped forward, grabbing onto to the two women by the arms. At their nods, he poofed away.

“Hank, start a search via our satellites,” Charles continued. “Peter can go anywhere in the world in a matter of moments, see if there’s a way to narrow down the possibilities.”

“On it,” Hank agreed, walking quickly towards the lab.

“What about me?” Scott asked.

“Speak to the children,” Charles said. “Find out if Peter said anything to any of them or if anyone overheard anything.”

Scott walked off, leaving Charles alone with Erik.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Charles said after a moment.

Erik scoffed. “Shocker.”

“I don’t need to be a telepath to know what you suspect,” Charles countered. “There’s no reason to think Stryker is involved in Peter’s disappearance.”

“There is every reason to think that,” Erik growled. “Why else wouldn’t you be able to hear Peter if not for the fact that something is blocking you? He’s been gone for two days, Charles, without a word.”

Charles had to admit, it was very unlike the speedster. Even if he didn’t say where he was going, Peter always made a point to let someone know if he was going for a run. Sometimes he’s spend an hour in Europe or an afternoon in South America; with having the whole world at his fingertips, of course he’d go off at the slightest fancy.

Yet, this time he ran off without a word. While not being able to sense him through Cerebro was cause for concern, the last thing Charles needed- the last thing any of them needed, quite frankly- was for Erik to rip through another military base, causing endless casualties in search for his missing son. And if Stryker didn’t have Peter, Erik would just move on to the next suspect; anyone the X-Men had previously fought, or any anti-mutant groups… it was a long list, but Erik was nothing if not determined.

So Charles tried to reassure him, again. “We will find him,” he insisted. “I promise you that, my friend.”

“Mom, who are you supposed to be? Old Red Riding Hood?” one of the children asks, making Peter snort in amusement.

“I’m a Sokovian fortune teller,” Wanda says, striking a small pose.

“Wow,” Peter replies, “that is so...”

Tommy interjects with a “Rad!”

“Lame,” Peter finishes, prompting Tommy to immediately echo his sentiment.

“Lame.”

Wanda frowned before Peter went on to add, “Worse than the costumes Mom made us when we got typhus.”

“That’s not exactly how I remember it...”

“Your brother suppressed a lot of the trauma.”

It was early the next morning when Hank burst into Charles’ office. “Oh, you’re all here, good,” Hank stated, pushing a cart with a tv on it. The scientist moved in a frenetic manner, muttering to himself as he plugged the tv in and fiddled with the machinery attached to it.

“Hank?” Charles questioned.

Hank didn’t spare them a glance, continuing to connect wires and press buttons. “You need to see this,” was his only response.

The screen came to life as Hank began grabbed the remote, punching in a set of numbers.

“This is hardly the time for this,” Erik growled lowly. “Peter is still missing—“

“Where do you keep your water balloons?”

The sound of his son’s voice cut Erik off immediately as every eye in the room became glued to the tv screen.

“We don’t have any water balloons.”

“Then where are we gonna put all the shaving cream?” At the question, the woman in red fixes Peter with a harsh glare. Peter immediately points to the child behind him. “It was Billy’s idea!”

“I’m Tommy!” the boy protests.

“And don’t you forget it!” Peter replies, before turning back to the red-costumed woman.

“You don’t even have a costume!”

Peter scoffs, glancing back at Tommy. Taking the child’s hand, the speedster smirks before running off. It is only a matter of seconds before the two return in matching costumes and triumphant grins.

“Okay, fine. But remember that this is a respectable family!" the woman warns. "If I see any funny business, I’ll magic you into pickled herring.”

Peter grimaces, but says nothing.

“What is this?” Raven demanded.

“The broadcast signal is intertwined with an insane amount of CMBR; cosmic microwave background radiation. But it’s... not from here,” Hank explained hesitantly.

“What do you mean? Where’s it from?” Scott asked.

Hank hesitated, glancing at his computer and avoiding the questioning stares of those gathered.

“Hank,” Erik pressed, tearing his gaze away from his son on the screen.

“It’s hard to explain,” Hank tried. “The complications of this, I don’t-“

“Then the simplest version you can, Hank. Please,” Charles interjected, trying to soothe the scientist.

Hank’s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally blurted, “Peter’s in an alternate universe.”

Silence and stares.

“…Alright, perhaps the long version, if you don’t mind,” Charles amended.

Hank nodded, quickly moving to explain. “When we couldn’t track Peter through Cerebro, I started a global search for any traces of a mercury residue trail,” Hank said. “Peter usually leaves a trail behind when he reaches a certain speed level. I picked up a trail of the residue around New Jersey, but then it just… cut off. Without any indication of where he went after, and it was in that spot that I found traces of CMBR.”

“Okay, for those of us who are still finishing up high school science?” Scott interjected.

“CMBR dates back from the Big Bang,” Hank said. “It’s always been here, never changes. Constant. Except these CMBR readings? They don’t exist in this universe. They can’t.” Hank sent Erik an apologetic frown.

“The broadcast is intertwined with the CMBR readings,” he went on. “So, if I had to give a best guess as to what this is? Peter’s trapped in an alternate universe, which may or may not be a tv show.”

“But how?” Jean asked, brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” Hank admitted. “There is good news, though. Wherever this signal is coming from, Peter managed to go from here to there. Which means we can as well, and get him back.”

“Worse than the costumes Mom made us when we got typhus.”

“That’s not exactly how I remember it...”

“Your brother suppressed a lot of the trauma.”

“He always refers to Wanda’s brother as ‘her brother,’ have you noticed that?” Jean murmured a few hours later. She, Scott, and Kurt were watching the tv, taking notes on everything they saw. “Never as himself, even though that’s the role he’s supposed to be playing.”

“So, what... Peter’s aware of what’s happening?” Scott questioned.

“More aware than any of the other citizens seem to be,” Jean shrugged.

“Perhaps it is because he is not from her universe, so her powers affect him differently,” Kurt theorized.

“You’re testing me,” Peter points out.

Wanda shakes her head, trying her best to smile. “No, I’m not,” she laughs, a forced sound.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Peter assures. “I know I look different.”

“Why do you? Look different?” Wanda whispers, leaning in somewhat closer as she inspects Peter’s features.

The speedster shrugs. “You tell me.”

Erik paced the length of Charles’ office, the panic emanating from his mind matching the frenetic energy of his movements.

“Erik, we’re doing everything we can,” Charles said.

“It’s still not enough,” Erik countered, stopping to brace himself on the back of the chair across from Charles. “He’s still just as far from our reach as he was three days ago, and every moment that passes, he’s forced to play a role in that woman’s fantasy world.”

Discovering that Wanda- that universe’s version of Wendy Maximoff- was controlling everything and everyone in Westview had been a surprise. Realizing she managed to rip Peter from his reality to fill the hole left by her brother Pietro, however, made the metal-bender less optimistic about ever getting Peter back. Unless Wanda opened a path between universes again, how could anyone cross over?

“Peter seems to have more awareness than those around him, he’s not a mindless puppet,” Charles said. “For all we know, Wanda has no control over him and he’s just doing his best to play along while assessing the situation.”

Erik met Charles gaze head on, his fear evident in his eyes. “And what happens to him when Wanda finally realizes he’s not her brother?”

Peter glances at Wanda, the question burning in his mind. “How’d you even do this?”

“I don’t know how I did it,” Wanda replies. “I just remember feeling so alone. Just... endless nothingness.”

Chapter Text

“So... Wanda kinda just… went nuts,” Scott began without preamble, hovering in the doorway of Charles’ office.

“Meaning?” Erik asked.

Scott sighed internally, barely understanding what he just saw. “Her robot-husband tried to leave Westview, but then started dying, I guess? I don’t know, the broadcast didn’t show that part. Just one of the kids saying he could hear Vision or something. Then Wanda expanded the perimeter of the false reality,” Scott said. “But Peter said something about the Vision already being dead? That really pissed her off.”

“Sounds like something Peter would do,” Charles sighed tiredly. “Has a new episode started yet?”

Scott shook his head. “There wasn’t anything when I left, but Ororo and Kurt are watching the screen just in case.”

“What Uncle Pete said, about re-killing Dad...”

“Don’t listen to a word that man says, he is not your uncle!” Wanda snaps, eyes fierce as she faces the twins.

“Then who is he?”

“What do I think about Westview?” Peter repeats slowly, sitting in a chair for an interview. “Uh, I mean, it’s alright, I guess. Kind of confining.”

A closer shot, from his shoulders up, as his brows furrow.

“I wasn’t lying when I told Wanda that I heard her calling me,” Peter sighs. “We have this twin bond, you know? At least, I thought we did, we never seem to be on the same page anymore.”

FLASHBACK

“It’s not like your dead husband can die twice,” Peter chuckles before Wanda sends him flying across the town square.

END FLASHBACK

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my finest moment,” Peter confesses. “I was just trying to, you know, lighten the mood a little bit. I thought Wendy would know I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Wendy?” someone asks off-camera.

Peter pauses, blinking. “Did I say Wendy? I meant... I meant Wanda.”

He stares off to the side, contemplative.

Hank continued tweaking and working through different calculations, having foregone watching the broadcast entirely. The others were doing a decent job of monitoring the situation, leaving Hank with much needed free time to try and figure out a solution to the whole inter-dimensional problem.

As the computer beeped an ‘error’ message again, indicating the last numbers Hank entered wouldn’t work, it took everything for the scientist to not slam his head on the desk. Muttering to himself, he looked over his work to see what changes he could make this time.

“You alright?”

Hank barely glanced at Raven as she walked over. “No, but that’s what happens when you try to figure out how to travel between universes,” he admitted.

“No luck, huh,” Raven sighed, sitting next to him.

Hank finally paused, turning to Raven. “Until that broadcast, the idea of a multiverse was theoretical. Something from one of those science-fiction movies the kids love. I don’t have a lot to work with here.”

“What about Jean?” Raven suggested. “We still don’t know the full extent of her powers, is it possible that she could-”

Hank shook his head. “Charles and I talked about it, and it’s too risky. She could potentially tear the multiverse apart if she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Maybe we could’ve asked Wendy Maximoff, if she was still alive. But it wouldn’t be fair to put this pressure on either of them.”

“It’s not fair that it’s all on you,” Raven countered with a huff.

The two sat in silence for several moments before Hank shook his head. “I don’t think I can do it,” he confessed quietly. “I think… I think the only way Peter’s coming back is if Wanda lets him.”

Sitting in the chair, Peter tips his head back, almost in frustration.

“You know, I was actually looking forward to hanging out with my twin again,” he complains. “I haven’t seen her in years. So when I show up and she’s married with kids? Yeah, that took me by surprise. I know the kids aged themselves up or whatever, but married? She’s only twenty!”

“She’s twenty-nine,” the voice off-camera corrects.

“Twenty-nine?” Peter repeats, voice pitching slightly higher. His features pinch in a grimace. “Wow. She is… old,” he finishes with an abrupt laugh. “Old and married to a microwave oven, pfft. And Mom said I’m the disappointing twin.”

Erik couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him at Peter’s words. The reassurance that he still maintained most aspects of his personality was a greater relief than Erik could describe. It seemed like Peter continued to keep a level of awareness despite angering Wanda in the previous episode. Erik worried she’d tighten her control over him, subduing his mind even further, but thankfully that wasn’t the case.

He watched Wanda struggle to maintain control over her reality with detached concern. Part of him couldn’t help but feel for this alternate version of his daughter. Considering Wanda’s questions about Peter looking different from Pietro, Erik had to assume she looked nothing like Wendy would. Yet, it still felt like he was looking at his daughter, who was in pain.

Then he’d remember she wasn’t his daughter, she was stranger. A stranger who tore his son from his home.

He left the lab, leaving the X-Men to continue monitoring the broadcast. He had enough of watching this charade for a lifetime.

“Where are the twins?”

“Oh, they’re probably playing in the basement,” Agnes replies.

“I know our priority is getting Peter back and potentially stopping the destruction of the multiverse,” Ororo stated as they watched Wanda head into the dark basement, “but this is getting really creepy.”

“Definite upgrade from the crappy sitcom vibes,” Scott tacked on, grimacing after Jean smacked him on the back of his head.

🎵Who’s been messing up everything?

It’s been Agatha all along!

Who’s been pulling every evil string?

It’s been Agatha all along!

She’s insidious (ha-ha!)

So perfidious

That you haven’t even noticed

And the pity is (the pity is)

Pity, pity, pity, pity

It’s too late to fix anything

Now that everything has gone wrong

Thanks to Agatha (ha!)

Naughty Agatha

It’s been Agatha all along!🎵

“And I killed Sparky too.”

“Are you actually humming along?” Ororo asked incredulously.

Kurt froze, wincing. “It’s catchy...” he muttered.

“So,” Raven quickly interjected before the kids could start bickering further, “who took Peter over there? Wanda or Agatha?”

“Does it matter?” Erik growled. “He’s being controlled either way.”

The screen was paused on the image of Peter standing in the doorway, purple magic swirling behind him and Agnes- Agatha- drinking wine on the yard, smirking.

It had been one thing when they thought it was Wanda controlling everything; Peter seemed to have more awareness than everyone else, and Wanda had done it out of grief. Erik wasn’t happy about it, but he could understand. After all, his own grief led to countless questionable decisions.

But this woman, using Peter for her own evil desires, whatever they were...

“Erik!” Charles shouted.

Snapping out of his dark thoughts, Erik saw the metal in the lab warping, including Charles’ chair which leaning far too much to one side.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Erik calmed himself, reverting the metal objects back to their original form. Ignoring the wariness in Hank’s gaze, Erik asked, “Are we any closer to finding a way to get him back?”

Hank shook his head. “I wish I had better news, but I don’t,” he admitted.

“I might,” Jean declared.

“Jean?” Charles asked.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking the commercial in this episode,” she said. “It was for a medication that’s supposed to help you deal with your reality, called Nexus. Nexus means-”

“Connection,” Hank finished.

“Based on the last episode, it seems like the commercials have some sort of relevance to Wanda and Westview,” Jean continued. “What if this connection, the nexus, the show was talking about is the path between our universes?”

Raven crossed her arms. “What, like a bridge?”

“Or a door,” Hank murmured. “That… that could actually work.” He turned to the group at large. “Trying to force your way from one universe to the next is nearly impossible, but if a doorway already exists, it’s just a matter of opening it.” A sudden laugh escaped from the scientist, “I have an idea.”

Erik felt something he hadn't dared since Peter first went missing. He felt hope.

Peter appears behind Monica, startling her.

“Snoopers gonna snoop,” he says before the screen turns to the black.

Chapter Text

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK - 1978

“Help me…”

Peter's eyes shot open, his body immediately sitting up at the sound of that voice. Turning on his bedside lamp, Peter's eyes surveyed the room. There was no one in sight, yet he felt a presence all the same. With little hesitance, he got out of bed, quickly speeding out of his pajamas and into more suitable clothing, just in case someone was lurking in the mansion.

Quietly exiting his room into the hall, Peter scanned both ends of the corridor, but couldn't see anyone. Shaking his head, he scoffed at himself. 'Get yourself together, Maximoff,' he scolded.

“I need you, please…”

This time, Peter froze at the sound of the voice, disbelief rising rapidly in his chest.

“Wendy?” he breathed, floored. He hadn’t heard his sister’s voice in years, how-

“Please, I need your help...”

Peter didn’t think about anything else, the world narrowing down to the sound of Wendy’s voice. He simply reacted, racing out of the house and towards his sister. It took him barely any time to get from Westchester to a small town called—

Peter came to a sudden stop just outside the town’s border, staring at the sign.

Westview, New Jersey.

Letting out a shaky breath, Peter stared down the road at the sight of his childhood hometown. He and his mother had promptly moved away after… after. And Peter swore to never return.

Swallowing roughly, he listened for his sister again. “Wendy?” he called out.

“I’m here...”

The voice came from directly in front of him. She sounded so close…

Steeling himself, Peter took a hesitant step forward.

Then promptly disappeared.

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY - 2023

“I was so patient, waiting for you to reveal your true self,” Agatha proclaimed. “I got close with fake Pietro. Fietro, if you will, but no dice.”

Wanda stared at Agatha, “That was you.”

“No, it wasn’t literally me. Just my eyes and ears. A crystalline possession,” Agatha explained.

She murmured lowly in Latin, waving her hand over the cicada.

“Mind control,” she declared, demonstrating. “A classic. Quick incantation and a feeble psyche and you’re good to go.”

THREE DAYS EARLIER, OFF THE AIR

Peter slowly came back to consciousness, keeping his eyes closed. He let the world slow down around him… except it didn’t. Time continued at its normal pace, Peter moving along with it. It was at that moment that he registered the restraints on his hands and feet. He tugged at them, but there was no give.

Lifting his head, Peter took in his surroundings. It was a dark (and creepy) room, and he was somehow levitating in the center of it. Glancing over his shoulder, he could make out a purple glow by his hands that matched the glow around his ankles.

“What the hell?” he whispered.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Turning his head, he saw a woman enter the room, petting a rabbit. She smiled thinly at him as she set the rabbit aside, humming quietly.

“Where are we?” Peter demanded. “Who are you?”

“Agatha Harkness,” she replied. “As for where, well, that’s a rather complicated answer. Complicated for you at least. You’re the one who’s been spatially and temporally displaced, after all.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “What…?”

“Now, Pietro, I understand that this is all a bit unsettling, but if you just work with me, this can be painless,” Agatha continued.

“Let me stop you right there," Peter retorted. "First of all, teaming up with someone who kidnaps me and then ties me up isn’t exactly my thing. Secondly, you probably got the wrong guy. My name isn't Pietro. It's Peter.”

Agatha seemed genuinely surprised at his correction of his name, tilting her head every so slightly to one side as she observed him. “Close enough!” she finally said with a laugh. “I needed a version of Pietro Maximoff, and here you are. You’re the only one who answered my call.”

None of what the woman was saying made any sense, but Peter suddenly remembered. “Wendy,” he breathed. “Where’s my sister?” When Agatha didn’t answer, Peter tugged uselessly on the restraints again. “Where is Wendy?!”

“Sorry, dear, I don’t know a Wendy,” Agatha shrugged.

“I heard her,” Peter countered. “She called me.”

Agatha shook her head. “No, no, that was all me,” she clarified.

Peter felt his throat clog up, the timid hope that built inside of him quickly dying and replaced with sorrow and anger.

“Why?” he demanded.

“I need you to help me get a little information,” Agatha explained. “Normally, I’d just cast a possession spell and be done with it, but your mind… well, it’s quite remarkable. The speed at which your thoughts race through your mind.” She sent him a friendly smile. “So… I need you to let me in.”

Peter scoffed. “Hard pass.”

Agatha shrugged. “I figured you’d say that.” She plucked a hair off of his head, casting it in purple magic.

And if that wasn’t freaky as all hell. “What are you doing?” Peter managed.

Agatha ignored him, continuing to chant in Latin. Finally, she grinned.

“If you won’t lower your mental shields,” she said, “I’ll just have to break them down myself.”

She snapped her fingers and all went black.

WASHINGTON D.C. - 1973

“Humanity has always feared that which is different. Well I’m here to tell you, to tell the world: you’re right to fear us. We are the future. We are the ones who will inherit this earth. And anyone who stands in our way will suffer the same fate as these men you see before you.”

A fifteen-year-old Peter stared at the tv screen, holding his little sister in his arms, eyes wide as he watched the man he help free declare war on humanity.

“Today was meant to be a display of your power. Instead, I give you a glimpse of the devastation my race can unleash upon yours.”

Peter stood up abruptly, ignoring his sister’s protest. “I have to go,” he stammered.

Marya quickly rushed into the room, taking advantage of his hesitance to grab his arm before he could run off. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “Go where?”

Peter glanced at the screen, regret filling his chest. Marya stared at him a moment longer, dread clear on her face. “Peter,” she prompted.

“Those cops weren’t cops!” he blurted out. “They asked me to help them break their friend out of the Pentagon!”

Marya’s face went white. “Peter, you didn’t…”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. “But I have to fix this, I have to stop him-“

“No!” Marya shouted, holding onto him tightly. She knelt in front of Peter, staring at him with a pleading expression. “Peter, you have to promise me you’ll stay away from that man. He’s dangerous, do you understand me?” When Peter didn’t answer, she shook him slightly. “Do you understand me?” she insisted.

The teen stared at Marya, searching his face. “Mom… he can control metal,” he whispered.

Marya shook her head. “Baby, don’t…”

“Do you know him?” Peter asked. “Is he the guy you were talking about?”

“Peter, please…”

“Did he hurt you?” Peter demanded, his fear and guilt growing by the second.

Marya looked at him sadly, brushing a strand of silver hair from his face. “No,” she replied. “He didn’t hurt me. But he hurt other people. So I ran, to keep us safe.” She stared at the tv screen, swallowing roughly. “I think it’s time you knew the truth,” she said slowly, “so you can understand.”

Peter frowned. “The truth about what?”

“The truth…” Marya whispered, “about the man who can control metal.” She held on extra tight to his arms. “About your father.”

It took a millisecond for it took click in his mind, his whole body flinching at the information. He stared at the tv screen, at Magneto… at his father?

He pulled out of his mother’s hold and ran off, leaving Washington D.C. far behind him.

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY

Peter returned to the present with a loud gasp. Looking around, he found himself still suspended in the air, but now he was far higher from the ground and upside-down.

“So, kleptomanic mixed with some daddy issues,” Agatha surmised, circling around him. “I can work with that.”

Catching his breath, Peter shook his head. “How did you…”

“A simple memory spell,” Agatha answered. “Sifting through what’s already in there is far easier than controlling it.” She stepped in front of Peter, arms crossed. “Was that little girl Wendy?”

Peter didn’t answer, glaring at the witch.

Undeterred, Agatha pressed on, “Did you ever reunite with daddy-dearest?”

As much as he tried to keep his feature neutral, something in his face must’ve given him away, because Agatha’s grin grew in anticipation. “Well,” she said, purple magic gathering in her hand, “let’s continue, shall we?”

CAIRO, EGYPT - 1975

“You have me. You have Charles…” Raven glanced at Peter, before turning back to Erik. “You have more family than you know… That’s what I’ve come to tell you.”

If Raven’s words moved Erik in any way, Peter couldn’t tell. The man was still using his powers to rip the world apart, the magnetic field still hold strong and keeping Peter and Raven out.

But then his gaze shifted to Peter. “And you?” he demanded.

Peter could feel Raven’s eyes on him again and realized this was his chance. Maybe, just maybe, knowing he had a son - one who was fighting against Apocalypse- would convince Erik to switch sides. Raven had said that family, while very limited in Erik’s life, was one of the things the man valued above all else…

“I’m your…” Peter cut himself off, nerves and self-doubt taking over. Hating himself, Peter swallowed roughly. 'I can't do it...'

“I’m here for my family, too.”

Then he was running.

He landed hit after hit on Apocalypse, not giving the ancient mutant any time to recover. Peter was too fast, and as long as he maintained his speed, he’d be safe.

Too bad Apocalypse’s mind caught up to the situation.

Peter found himself trapped and unable to run. The sheer terror in rising in his chest took over as Apocalypse approached him. He tried landing another punch, but his fist was easily caught. He let out a pained yell as his arm was painfully twisted.

Then Apocalypse broke his leg, and Peter screamed.

His head was jerked back as Apocalypse pulled on his hair, exposing Peter’s neck to one of the Horsemen.

“End him,” Apocalypse ordered.

He was going to die. He was going to die, and never see his little sister or his mom, or tell Erik the man was his father.

‘Maybe you’ll see Wendy again…’

The thought was a small comfort even as the fear and panic grew in him. Peter squeezed his eyes shut as the woman readied her katana—

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY

“Well, aren’t you the brave one?”

Peter’s eyes shot open.

Agatha was looking at him, somewhat impressed if not impatient.

“Not brave enough to tell your father the truth, of course,” she added. She looked at him knowingly. “Now. What was that thought you had? About seeing Wendy again?”

“Stay out of my head,” Peter growled.

“No, there’s something else,” she went on, ignoring him entirely. “And you’re trying to hide it from me.”

“Go to hell,” Peter muttered.

Agatha laughed. “Oh kiddo… I’ve already been there.” She eyed him curiously. “Let’s see something a little more... heartwarming. Get you a little more comfortable before the grand finale. Shall we?”

She flicked her wrist, her magic flying at Peter once more.

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK - 1975 ( THREE WEEKS AFTER CAIRO)

“Finally got the cast off?”

Peter whirled around, seeing Erik standing at the entrance to the private kitchens. “Geez, man, is stealth one of your mutations or something?” Peter asked, his heart racing. “You can’t just sneak up on people; what if it was Scott and he fired a plasma beam at you or something?” The corner of Erik’s lip quirked, as if the idea were amusing, but gave no answer.

Peter glanced down at his leg. “And, yeah,” he said, answering Erik’s question. “Hank took it off a couple of hours ago.”

Erik hummed, moving through the kitchen with practiced ease, somehow knowing where everything was. “So your ability gives you enhanced healing as well,” he noted. “That must come in handy.”

“Apparently without it, I would’ve been in a cast for at least three months, maybe four.” Peter shuddered at the thought. “I know I should be grateful it wasn’t for long, but man it sucked not being able to run.”

Erik gave him a wry smile. “Not being able to use one’s mutation isn’t something I’d wish on anyone,” he agreed.

The words made Peter think of the Pentagon, how they held Erik deep in the ground, locked in a cell of plastic and glass. Unable to feel or sense any form of metal, for years.

Suddenly, Peter felt like a jerk complaining about being unable to use his power for a mere month.

“Raven says you’re finishing up your schooling here?” Erik said after a moment too long of silence.

Peter tensed, silently cursing Raven. She had been prompting him to tell Erik the truth since Cairo, which was annoying but he could handle. Now she was talking to his dad about him behind his back?

“Yeah, Charles found out I dropped out of high school and nearly had an aneurysm,” he replied. “Turns out, I just have ADHD which makes sense with my mutation.” He shrugged. “I can’t really stay on pace with everyone else, it’s just too slow. So Charles has me doing independent study, instead. He thinks I can be done in six months, maybe less.”

Deep down, he hoped Erik would be somewhat impressed, maybe even proud, that Peter was pursuing an education. Based on what he gleaned from Raven and Charles, Erik never had a formal education, for obvious reasons. But the man was still so smart; Peter felt woefully inadequate.

The two remained silent, Peter toying with the wrappers of the Twinkies he had been consuming, Erik preparing a meal for himself. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was killing Peter. His leg bounced under the table as he forced himself to chill out and take it slow. No use annoying the hell out of his father before telling him of their relation; Peter didn’t want to give Erik a reason to hate him or something.

“So, are you… sticking around?” he asked. “You speak like five languages, right? Does the Professor have you teaching any of them?”

“I speak nine languages,” Erik corrected, making Peter gape openly. “And no, I’m not teaching.”

Peter frowned. “Staying on as security, then?” He gestured around them, “It’s not like this school doesn’t need it. The fact that it exploded then those military guys showed up and kidnapped a bunch of us like five minutes later?”

“What ‘military guys?”’ Erik demanded slowly, raising a brow.

Peter froze, realizing no one had told Erik about their detour to the military base, and probably for good reason. “Erm…” He stalled, glancing away. “Maybe you should ask Raven. Or Hank. They were there too.”

Erik looked wholly unimpressed, but dropped it, muttering quietly. Peter found himself growing even more tense, more impatient. Part of him wanted to get out of there, another part wanted to blurt out the truth, and yet another part wanted to remain sitting silently by his father.

“Remember in the Pentagon, when I mentioned… I mentioned that my mom knew a guy who could control metal?” Peter said before stiffening, mentally kicking himself. He wasn’t ready, it wasn’t a good time, the man was planning to leave soon.

Erik’s brow furrowed, but he nodded after a moment.

Peter swallowed. He dug himself this hole, and now he needed to see it through. Now or never.

“I, uh… I’m assuming you knew a Marya Maximoff?”

The name made Erik’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open. Half of Peter took some silent pleasure in the fact that he managed to stun Erik Lensherr speechless, while the other half panicked because the man wasn’t saying anything.

“That’s my mom’s name,” Peter found himself saying. “She moved to the States before she knew she was pregnant.”

“How…” Erik audibly gulped. “How old are you?”

The teen answered quietly, “I’m seventeen.”

Erik whispered something in a language Peter couldn’t understand, and considering Erik knew nine Peter doubt he could even guess which language it was anyways. The metallokinetic strode towards him before pulling him into a hug, tight and fierce.

Peter’s eyes widened at the contact before hugging Erik back just as tightly...

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY

Head lolling forward, Peter struggled to catch his breath. He could barely make sense of what Agatha was saying this time, content enough to ignore her while wincing from the massive headache making itself known.

“Show me,” he heard Agatha hiss. “Show me Wendy.”

Peter felt powerless as he had no choice but to succumb to the memories once more.

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY - 1970

Peter ran through the forest surrounding the town. No one came to the woods, leaving the twelve-year-old with miles and miles of forest to run to his heart’s content.

His mother was still wary about him being seen, but Peter had reassured her. How could he get caught when he moved faster than they couldn’t actually see him?

He could start to feel his hunger catching up with him, so he turned around, heading back to the house. Slowing down as he neared the tree line, just like he promised Mom, Peter contemplated if he could convince Wanda to magic the tv to play HBO again. Maybe if he ran to the record store two towns over and got her that new album she wanted, she’d agree. So long as Mom didn’t find out.

Grinning, he continued walking past the treeline, finding himself in the park. He could spot the ice cream parlor from here. He’d get a pick-me-up, run on over to get Wanda’s album, and be home with plenty of time to spare before—

Peter froze, pain shooting through his chest. Startled, he looked down at his chest for an injury, but found nothing. Something... something was wrong. He couldn’t explain it, but it hurt. It felt like... like...

The realization finally set in.

“Wendy!” he screamed before running at maximum speed.

Finding his twin had always been easy, so Peter was by her side in seconds. He ignored the startled yelps and screams caused by his sudden appearance, cradling Wendy in his arms.

“Wendy, what happened?” he all but demanded.

His twin offered no response, crying in pain. Her red hair seemed pale, contrasting against the deep red of the blood collecting beneath her. Peter flinched at the sight, tears starting to fill his sight. Fear kept him frozen, staring at Wendy.

Tears were streaming down his face as he held his sister tightly. “Wendy, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he cried.

“Pete,” she whimpered quietly.

“It’s okay,” he promised.

She remained silent, still in his arms. “Wendy?” he pleaded. “Wendy... Wendy!”

Five days later, Marya found Peter curled up in his closet, music blasting from his headphones.

Kneeling down in front of him, Marya gently pulled the headphones away. “I was calling you,” she said softly. “You know, if you keep playing your music this loud, you’ll damage your ears.”

“I like it loud,” Peter whispered as Marya stroked his hair. “It’s... it’s too quiet now.”

Marya kept stroking his hair, humming lowly. “I know, baby,” she said.

“I… I used to be able to feel her. All the time,” Peter continued, looking up at his mother. “Now she’s gone…”

Mother and son sat curled up together on the floor in silence for a long time, Peter practically shaking the longer the silence went on. With Wendy gone from his mind, the world felt so empty. Even before their powers manifested, he could always feel her. Had always been able to sense her, regardless of distance. To have that part of him torn out, never able to repair itself…

“Wendy used to be able to tell me where you were, when you were running,” Marya said, cutting into his depressing thoughts. “I was happy, knowing that even when you were out there alone, when no one could keep up with you, you had your sister.” She smiled sadly at him before looped the headphone over his head to rest around his neck. “She always loved music.”

Peter nodded, glad his mother understood. “She would always hum or sing in her mind,” he murmured. “I could always hear her.”

Marya sighed. “I know it’s hard, baby, but… don’t shut the rest of the world out,” she pleaded. “Not all the time, at least.”

Peter fiddled with the headphones, but nodded once. He felt Marya press a kiss on the crown of his head before standing up.

“Come on,” she said. “The funeral is in half an hour, and it’s a twenty minute drive to the cemetery.”

She offered a hand to Peter. The boy stared at it before pocketing the Walkman and reaching out for his mother.

WESTVIEW, NEW JERSEY

Peter came to, gasping for air as the familiar sharp stab of pain hit his chest. His eyes were blurry with tears, the wound of losing his twin sister reopening violently. Losing Wendy had been like losing half of himself, and he had never fully recovered. It stayed buried underneath his immaturity, his kleptomania, his general joking nature. He hadn’t been able to save his sister, because for some reason, whenever it really mattered? He had always been too slow.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” a voice whispered inside his mind. “Your sister is here. She’s here, and she needs you.”

It was a lie, Peter knew that. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. Wendy was dead. Gone. She couldn’t possibly need him.

But what if…?

“That’s right,” the voice said softly, tempting Peter to just believe it.

Then there were flashes in his mind, memories that weren't his.

“These are your memories, Pietro.”

Peter flinched at the name. “No—”

He didn’t hear Agatha murmuring lowly in a different language, couldn’t make out the purple glow of her magic, before she assaulted his mind once more.

The memories ripped through his mind, their weight on his mind pressing that much further, running rampant in his mind’s eye.

The bomb that crashes into their home, the name Stark emblazoned on the side.

Joining HYDRA, in order to change the world. The experiments; somehow surviving.

“You two are very special,” Strucker praises. “Very special indeed.”

“You didn’t see that coming?” he taunts, smirking at the archer before running off.

He looks at Wanda. “You know I’m twelve minutes older than you?” he says with a grin. Wanda smiles back.

Clint and the little boy are going to die unless he does something. He rushes forward, but he’s not fast enough to save them all. As long as Clint and the boy survive, it’ll be worth it.

He can feel the bullets rip through his body. ’Wanda,’ he thinks. ‘I love you. I’m sorry.’

Then he collapses, and all goes dark.

“Wanda, who is this?” Vision questions.

Wanda’s gaze shifts from her husband to the man at the door, his silver hair sparking familiarity and relief in her chest.

He smiles at her, her red hair easing the inexplicable ache in his chest. The audience track cheers as he enters the house.

“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?”

“Pietro?” Wanda whispers, almost afraid to believe it.

A half-nod is his response. ‘ Close enough ,’ a voice whispers in his head as Wanda quickly pulls him into a tight hug, an unseen audience applauding and cheering.

“ Worse than the costumes Mom made us when we got typhus.”

Wanda frowns. “That’s not exactly how I remember it...”

“Your brother suppressed a lot of the trauma,” he replies.

“You are her brother,” Agatha’s voice whispers in his mind. “These memories are yours.”

“You’re testing me,” Peter Pietro points out.

Wanda shakes her head, trying her best to smile. “No, I’m not,” she laughs, a forced sound.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he assures. “I know I look different.”

“Why do you? Look different?” Wanda whispers, leaning in somewhat closer as she inspects his features.

‘Why do you look different?’ he wonders before a heavy weight soothes the thought away.

“You tell me,” is what he says instead.

FLASHBACK

“It’s not like your dead husband can die twice,” he chuckles before Wanda sends him flying across the town square.

END FLASHBACK

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my finest moment,” he confesses. “I was just trying to, you know, lighten the mood a little bit. I thought Wendy would know I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Wendy?” someone asks off-camera.

Peter… Pietro pauses, blinking. “Did I say Wendy? I meant…”

‘ You meant Wanda… ’ Agatha’s voice slithers through his mind once more.

“I meant Wanda.”

He stares off to the side, contemplative.

“She’s only twenty!”

“She’s twenty-nine,” the voice off-camera corrects.

“Twenty-nine?” he repeats, voice pitching slightly higher.

’ That can’t be right. She’s my twin, we’re supposed to be the same age,’ Peter thinks, panic swirling in his chest.

Agatha’s voice shushes him. ‘It’s not important.’

‘She’s not Wendy-’

‘That’s enough,’ Agatha warns.

‘I'm not supposed to be here-’

‘ENOUGH!’ Agatha roars.

“Wow,” he says. “She is… old,” he finishes with an abrupt fake laugh. “Old and married to a microwave oven, pfft. And Mom said I’m the disappointing twin.”

He sees Monica at Agatha’s house, opening the basement doors. He slips into his super speed, coming to a stop right behind her.

“Snoopers gonna snoop,” he says before the screen turns to the black.

Chapter Text

“Is the helmet truly necessary, my friend?”

Erik glanced at Charles, who was staring at the helmet Erik had in his lap.

“We’re going to an alternate reality to face off one, perhaps two, witches who have both been shown to posses the ability of mind control,” Erik said drily. “It is absolutely necessary.”

“Coming up on Westview,” Hank called out from the pilot’s seat. The X-Jet began its descent just outside the town border, and the X-Men readied themselves. It would take Hank some time to set up his equipment, even with their assistance, but once he did, they would be crossing over into another universe.

The thought filled Charles with a level of dread. He was careful to not project his emotion to not worry the X-Men, although he suspected Jean could sense his concern. After all, the idea of an alternate universe was both amazing and terrifying. He had faith in Hank’s scientific abilities, and knew the scientist wouldn’t allow any of them to travel through if it was unsafe.

Glancing at Erik, whose eyes were focused straight ahead, his calm exterior hiding the turmoil broiling inside, Charles could only hope they were successful in rescuing Peter.

“Snoopers gonna snoop.”

Monica flew backwards, crashing through the wall of Agatha’s house and into the kitchen. She groaned at the impact, winded as she watched Fake Pietro stalk through the hole in the wall and towards her. “You know, I’m pretty sure this counts as trespassing,” he remarked.

Staring at him, Monica slowly stood up. Her eyes glowed, seeing the purple hue of magic surrounding the necklace he wore. “She’s controlling you, isn’t she?” she breathed.

He said nothing, head tilting with a bored expression.

Monica rushed at him, unsurprised when he easily sidestepped her with his speed. Crashing into the kitchen counter, Monica quickly turned, frying pan in hand. It connected with Fake Pietro’s head, making him recoil in pain. Taking advantage of the distraction, Monica lunged forward, grabbing the necklace.

Before she could yank it off, she was slammed against a wall. With one hand, Fake Pietro restrained her wrist, preventing her from ripping the necklace off. With the other, he grabbed her neck and began to squeeze.

Gasping for air, Monica tried fighting back, but all of her hits seemed to do absolutely nothing to him. Black dots began to flood her vision.

“Sorry about this,” she heard him whisper.

She could feel pressure build up within her, countering the sensation of the lack of air. She surrendered to the feeling, not realizing her eyes were glowing blue. Power flowed to her hand, combating the magic on the necklace. It was enough for Fake Pietro to falter.

Not wasting time, Monica ripped the necklace off before punching him in the chest, sending him flying out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She rushed after him, watching him warily as he groaned on the floor.

“Ugh, never again,” he said, slowly sitting up. He looked at her, and Monica was surprised to see the concern on his face. “You alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, standing up. “How long have I been here? It’s been a least two days, right?” he continued, seemingly asking himself more than actually asking Monica. “The Professor must’ve been able to sense where I am by now.”

Monica stepped forward, hands up placatingly. “Alright, let’s just take a moment to breath here-“

But he was at the other side of the room in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind left in his wake as he stared out the window.

“You’re actually a speedster,” she breathed, staring at him in surprise.

“That’s my mutation,” he shrugged.

“Mutation,” Monica repeated uncertainly. “Right. And your name is…?”

“Peter. Maximoff,” he answered.

Monica rose a brow, unimpressed. “If you’re going to make up a fake name, I think you can be a little more creative than deriving from Wanda’s brother’s name.”

“Wanda,” Peter repeated softly. He turned to Monica. “Where are Wanda and the twins?"

“I thought she came in here with Agnes,” she said, remembering her initial goal when coming to the house. “I don’t know where the twins are.”

“We need to find them,”  Peter declared. “I don’t know what Agatha’s planning on doing to them, but it can’t be good.”

“Agatha?”

“Agnes, whatever her name is,” Peter said. “She’s the one who brought me here. She wanted me to spy on Wanda, to find out how she did… whatever all of this is,” he finished, gesturing lamely around them.

Monica mulled over the information. She couldn’t see any residual energy of Agnes- Agatha’s- magic on him. Even if he wasn’t making complete sense, it wasn’t exactly like Monica had many other allies in the Hex. “Why you?” she finally asked.

Peter paused, trying to remember anything from his time in Agatha’s torture dungeon that could be helpful. He frowned when one phrase in particular stuck out. “She said she needed a version of Pietro Maximoff.”

OUTSIDE OF WESTVIEW (X-VERSE)

Erik was doing his best to not bother Hank, choosing instead to pace, glaring at the town line. The very place where Peter had disappeared from only days prior. He knew Peter wasn’t actually in Westview, at least not this world’s Westview. Erik couldn’t help but feel restless; a barrier of space and time was keeping him from his son. Peter was in Westview, but wasn’t in Westview, so marching into the town would be pointless.

He couldn’t do anything.

Charles, he knew, was staring at the back of Erik’s head, no doubt cursing the helmet. Erik refused to remove it, not even for his oldest friend. If Peter, a speedster, could be taken, then what hope did any of them have of avoiding capture should Agatha deign to come for them. Erik wouldn’t allow himself to be manipulated under the witch’s control, especially not when his son needed him.

“Any idea how much longer?” Raven asked, more for Erik’s benefit than her own.

Hank shook his head. “No,” he admitted regretfully, glancing at Erik’s back. “But I’m working on it.”

The boys struggled against Agatha’s magic, crying out for their mother and for each other, Tommy’s “Let go of my brother!” pulling at Wanda’s heart even more.

“Agnes- Agatha,” Wanda pleaded. “Let my children go. I’m not this Scarlet Witch you’re talking about.”

Agatha’s eyes never left Wanda as she floated back down to the ground. She didn’t let go of the boys, her magic still restraining them. “Let’s not play games anymore, Wanda,” Agatha declared.

Wanda shook her head slightly, uncertain what to do now. Her powers still flowed in her hands as she looked at her children in concern before meeting Agatha’s gaze again.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she whispered.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe after I kill your boys, you’ll realize how serious I am,” she hissed. She cast a spell, purple light flying towards the boys.

“NO!” Wanda screamed, red energy flying from her hands towards Agatha.

Almost instantly, the world slowed down. The red and purple light barely moved. The fear in the twins’ eyes, the fury in Wanda’s glare, and the calculating satisfaction on Agatha’s face; all of it, practically frozen in time.

Peter surveyed the scene, feeling anger fill his chest at the sight, before leaping into action. He rushed to the twins first, taking one under each arm before taking them to their room in Wanda’s house. Returning back outside, he saw that with the twins out of the way, Agatha’s spells were heading directly towards Wanda.

Grabbing her, he brought her to a lawn off to the side and out of harm’s way. Then he turned to Agatha, his eyes narrowing. Going faster than before, he ran towards the witch, punching her at full speed. Her body began to fly backwards, eyes slowly widening.

Making sure to sidestep Wanda’s own powers so as to not get hit, Peter resumed a normal speed. Time caught up with him and he watched with satisfaction as Agatha was thrown backwards, crashing into a parked car further down the street.

“YOU!”

Peter turned around, seeing Wanda march towards him with red eyes, her powers swirling in her hand. He took a step back, putting his hands up in surrender. “Woah, wait-”

“What did you do with the boys?!” she demanded.

“They’re in the house, they’re safe!”

Wanda aimed her powers at Peter, not trusting a word from him.

“Wanda!” Monica rushed over, catching the Avenger’s attention. “Wanda, it’s okay, he’s fine,” she insisted. “Agatha was controlling him.”

Slowly, Wanda looked back at Peter, studying him. “Who are you then?” she asked. “Because you’re not Pietro.”

“No, I’m not,” Peter answered. “At least, not exactly,” At Wanda’s questioning look, he continued. “My name’s Peter Maximoff, but I had a twin sister, Wendy. She had powers like yours.”

‘Had?’ Wanda’s brow furrowed, using her powers to subtly poke around in Peter’s mind. She saw two children, different from her and Pietro and yet, similar in so many ways.

“I don’t understand,” Wanda said, staring at Peter.

A loud rumbling noise caught all of their attention. Agatha rose into the air again, purple magic swirling around her. “So, you freed Fietro,” she observed. “No matter. He already served his purpose. Although I suppose I should make introductions, shouldn’t I?”

She grinned, a malicious glint in her eyes. “Wanda, meet Peter Maximoff. An alternate version of Pietro. Peter, you’ve already met Wendy’s alternate self.”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda demanded.

“You wanted your brother, and I needed a spy,” Agatha said. “So I plucked this one out of the multiverse.”

“‘The multiverse?’” Monica repeated in disbelief.

Agatha cackled. “There are infinite universes, some quite similar and some very, very different. But interestingly enough, in every single one of those universes? The Maximoff twins exist.”

The words made Peter and Wanda exchange a glance before they looked back at Agatha.

“I hoped for a Pietro that resembled your brother a little better,” she continued, “but this was the only one who answered my call.”

“I heard my sister,” Peter countered. “I heard Wendy.”

“Wendy,” Agatha scoffed. “You mean your dead twin?”

Peter’s jaw clenched as he glared at the witch, not seeing Wanda look at him once more, this time with sympathy on her features.

“An infinite number of Maximoff twins, and yet the two of you are the only ones without your twin,” Agatha laughed. “It’s actually quite pitiful—”

Agatha went flying backwards as a car, carried by Wanda’s powers, struck her. She crashed into a house, the car landing on top of her. Peter and Monica both looked at Wanda in surprise.

“She talks too much,” was all she said, making Peter grin at her before movement behind her made his brows furrow in confusion.

“Uhhh,” he said dumbly, pointing at the new arrival.

Monica and Wanda both followed his gaze, seeing Vision, completely white unlike the last time any of them saw him, walking towards them.

“Vision?” Wanda breathed, moving to him.

Peter and Monica stayed behind, watching the two come together. “Okay, I know my brain’s been through the blender the last couple of days, but… wasn’t he purple? Or something?” Peter asked. Monica didn’t answer him, looking just as confused as he felt, so Peter took some comfort that he wasn’t totally out of the loop.

Wanda stopped right in front of Vision, eyes studying his new white form. “Is it really you?” she whispered, smiling at him.

“Wanda,” he said softly, placing a hand on her cheek. Wanda returned the gesture, staring at him in awe as he lifted his other hand, cradling her face.

Then he began to squeeze.

Wanda gasped in pain, unable to react before the White Vision lifted her in the air. She kicked her feet, grabbing his arms as she felt the pressure increasing on her head.

“Wanda!” she heard before she fell to the ground, free from White Vision’s hold. She grabbed her head, wincing in pain before looking up, seeing Peter shake his hand out.

“Ow,” he grumbled. “What’s he made of, anyways? Adamantium?”

“Wanda!”

She looked over, seeing Vision, her Vision, rush towards her.

“There’s two of them?” she heard Peter mutter, as she stood up.

“Vision!” she exclaimed.

“Where are the boys?” Vision immediately asked.

“They’re safe, they’re in the house,” Wanda answered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you-”

“It’s alright,” Vision interrupted. “I understand why you did it.”

“Well, isn’t this a lovely reunion,” Agatha snarked, floating in the air. “Your ex, your husband, and your not-brother. And whoever you’re supposed to be,” she said, gesturing to Monica at the end. “So what happens now, Wanda?”

Wanda turned to Vision. “I can fix this,” she said.

“Can you?” Vision asked gently.

Wanda nodded resolutely. “This is our home,” she insisted.

Vision smiled softly. “Then let’s fight for it.”

Swallowing roughly, Wanda turned to Monica and Peter. “The twins,” she said, her voice pleading.

“I’ll keep them safe,” Monica promised.

Wanda nodded gratefully, then turned to Peter.

“I’m not letting you fight her alone,” he stated. “I got your back.”

Vision glanced at Wanda, uncertain. She met his gaze directly. “We’ll be okay,” she assured.

Comforted by his wife’s words, Vision flew towards White Vision, the two colliding further down the street. Monica had already run off towards the house. It was just Wanda and Peter standing opposite of Agatha.

The witch merely smirked at them before vanishing, reappearing as a small dot in the air, miles away.

“She’s in the town square,” Wanda deduced.

“Right,” Peter replied, before bracing the back of Wanda’s head.

She stiffened, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “What… what are you doing?”

“I’m holding your neck so you don’t get whiplash,” Peter explained.

The answer did nothing to clarify the situation to Wanda. “What?”

“Whip. Lash.”

Wanda blinked and they were in the middle of the town square. A second later, she felt the effects of motion sickness catching up to her, and she doubled over, trying to catch her breath. Peter’s hand remained on her arm.

“It’ll pass, just take deep breaths,” he consoled. “It happens with everyone.”

Wanda didn’t understand- it had never been like this with Pietro. Was Peter just faster? Had her bond with Pietro shielded her from the negative effects of his powers, and vice versa?

Shaking her head, she brought herself back to the present. “Do you see her?” she asked shakily.

“No,” Peter said, eyes scanning the area. “Should we split up?”

Wanda shook her head. “No, that might be what she wants,” she countered.

No sooner did the words leave her mouth did a cloud of purple smoke strike Peter from behind, throwing him across the square.

Wanda whirled around, creating a small barrier just in time before another one of Agatha’s spells could hit her. Agatha was relentless, throwing spell after spell at Wanda, forcing the younger woman to stumble backwards with each blocked spell.

Using her powers, Wanda levitated to meet Agatha in the air, throwing her own blasts at the witch. Agatha absorbed more of Wanda’s power- her magic?- and Wanda watched her hands began to shrivel even more.

From his point on the ground, Peter watched the two duke it out. He ran forward and up the side of the building closest to them. Using his momentum, he pushed off the building’s edge, launching towards Agatha, punching her square in the face.

The impact slowed him down, and he flipped himself in midair, landing in a crouch on the ground. When he looked up, Agatha caught herself with her powers, glaring at him.

Wanda floated down next to Peter, the two of them watching Agatha warily and waiting for the next attack.

“Did you know there’s an entire chapter dedicated to you in the Darkhold, Wanda?” Agatha said, ignoring the alternate twins’ confusion over the non-sequitur. “The book of the damned,” she clarified, summoning the book with her magic. “The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, no need for incantation.”

“I’m not a witch, I don’t cast spells,” Wanda snapped. “No one taught me magic!”

“Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme,” Agatha continued on, as if Wanda hadn’t spoken. “It’s your destiny to destroy the world.”

“I’m not what you say I am!” Wanda insisted.

Agatha rose a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

Peter glanced at Wanda, seeing uncertainty color her features. Before anyone could say anything else, military vehicles pulled in the town square from all sides, blocking off all the roads and exit points.

“Who are these guys?” Peter asked.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed. “SWORD. Government agents.” Her gaze lifted to the sky, only to see Agatha smirk at her.

“Same story, different century,” the witch taunted. “There will always be people with torches and pitchforks who come after ladies like us, Wanda.” Then she vanished from sight.

“So, are government agents good or bad in this universe?” Peter asked just before the agents all swarmed out of their vehicles, aiming their guns at the duo.

“Bad guys,” Peter surmised with a resigned sigh. “Well, at least we have that in common.”

“Mom!”

Looking back, they saw the twins arriving with Tommy’s super speed, staring at the SWORD agents with fearful eyes.

“Boys!” Wanda exclaimed, reaching a hand out for them.

“Don’t move!” the agents barked, removing the safeties from their weapons.

Wanda glared at them, only for her frown to deepen with displeasure as Hayward appeared. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Hayward eyed Wanda with disinterest, before turning to his agents. “Open fire,” he ordered. “Kill them all.”

“No!” Wanda shouted, throwing a shield towards the boys just as the agents all fired.

Time slowed down as Peter slipped into super speed. He wished he had his walkman to listen to something. Preferably Eurythmics. ‘Oh well,’ he thought. Cracking his neck, he began to run.

He ran to the twins first, grabbing them and setting them down near Wanda for safety. He then ran towards the agents closest to the trio, swiping bullets out of the way before punching and kicking them at full speed. Their bodies slowly floated in the air, and Peter continued on, following the perimeter the agents established. He relieved them all of their weapons- the ones being fired, and the ones they had holstered as backups- and took care of the remaining bullets.

Eyeing the vehicles, Peter began pulling out anything he could from the engines, rendering them useless. Glancing over to his left, he saw Tommy speeding around, pushing and tripping the agents Peter had merely disarmed.

“Keep it up, demon spawn!” he shouted proudly. Tommy beamed in response.

Finally, Peter stepped in front of Hayward, the man who ordered his agents to shoot two kids, making faces at guy before handcuffing him to a vehicle. An idea struck him and he ran into one of the stores, returning with a sharpie in hand. Drawing a mustache and writing the word ‘CLOWN’ on his forehead, Peter took a step back as Tommy came to his side.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Tommy grinned. “Perfect!”

Grabbing Tommy’s hand, Peter brought them back to Wanda and Billy’s side and let time resume as normal. All at once, the agents flying in the air crashed to the ground or against the side of buildings, those that had been pushed or tripped fell down, and Hayward jerked against the handcuffs in surprise.

Wanda and Billy both surveyed the damage in surprise, a soft “Woah,” coming from Billy.

Turning to Tommy, Peter smiled at the younger speedster. “Nice work, little dude,” he congratulated.

“Thanks Uncle P,” Tommy said, high-fiving him.

“Are you?” Billy wondered, making all eyes turn to him. “Our Uncle?”

Peter hesitated, glancing at Wanda who seemed as equally uncertain as he did.

“Boys,” Wanda began slowly, cut off by the crashing of Vision’s body in the square.

“Vision!” she screamed, running over to him. White Vision rammed into her before she could reach her husband, sending her rolling on the ground. She could hear the boys screaming for him, the sound of someone else crashing into something, before White Vision grabbed her. With increased speed, it flew her to the edge of the Hex, slamming her into several obstacles on the way.

It was just before the town line that White Vision let her go, and she rolled several times on the ground again. She remained on the ground, breathing heavily, her bruised body protesting each breath.

Back at the square, Peter checked on Vision. “You good, man?”

“I’m fine,” Vision managed. “Go, help Wanda. I have the boys. Go!”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice, zipping away.

At the town line, Wanda barely had a chance to stand before White Vision fired its energy beam at her. Wanda conjured up a shield, struggling to maintain it. She screamed with the effort, fighting back, her desperation tapping into her powers. Red light exploded from her body into the immediate area—

OUTSIDE OF WESTVIEW (X-VERSE)

Red light sparked at the town line, catching the X-Mens’ attention.

“Was that the door you were talking about?” Raven asked.

Hank frowned at his equipment, observing the readings. “No, no, that… that was something else. I don’t…”

What looked like a barrier came into view, sparking and glitching twenty feet away from them. It disappeared for a moment before returning, switching from the view of the town to a red barrier.

“What’s happening Hank?” Charles asked, but Hank didn't have an answer.

The barrier became clearer, the glitches coming less and less, allowing them to see…

“Is that Wanda?!” Jean exclaimed. “What… What is Vision doing to her?”

Scott fired a beam at the White Vision, but the beam dissipated when it hit the barrier.

A bang echoed as Wanda and White Vision fought, distracting Wanda as the barrier rippled, as if something was trying to get through. White Vision took advantage, grabbing her by her arms and lifting her up again. The blue gem on his head began to glow and Wanda struggled to escape.

For the second time, she found herself falling to the ground as Peter zipped by, knocking White Vision away from her. He became a blur, punching White Vision again and again, sending the android flying in all directions. It reminded Peter of fighting Apocalypse; except this bad guy couldn’t make the ground swallow up Peter’s foot.

Swinging another punch at White Vision, Peter couldn’t regret jinxing himself. The android caught his fist, squeezing it and forcing him to his knees.

Peter yelled in pain, hearing Wanda scream his name. A red burst of energy- or was it a spell, like Agatha suggested?- knocked White Vision away. Wanda came next to him, her powers flickering over Peter’s hand to help heal the bones.

“Where’d he go?” Peter wondered, looking around.

Wanda lifted her gaze, and sure enough White Vision was nowhere to be found. The two of them stood up, the clank of metal echoing from behind them. Turning their backs to the barrier, they saw the White Vision standing several feet away.

“Why are you doing this?” Wanda asked.

“My parameters are set,” came the answer. “Wanda and Pietro Maximoff are to be destroyed,” White Vision stated blandly. “As is the Vision.”

“Not happening,” Wanda snapped, summoning her powers. She glanced at Peter, raising a brow in question.

He nodded with a smirk, and they set off, attacking White Vision with all they had.

Whirling around to Hank, Erik demanded, “How much longer?”

“I can’t stabilize it!” Hank snapped. “It won’t stay open. If we go through, then we’d be trapped with no way back,” he added on, continuing to work frantically on his equipment.

“Then what are we meant to do?!” Erik growled.

“Stop distracting me and let me fix this!” Hank all but snarled.

Glancing back at the flickering barrier, Erik watched Wanda and Peter face off the White Vision. The two gave as good as they got, their powers well matched against the android’s own abilities.

A punch to Peter’s chest sent him flying back again, skidding on the ground and landing heavily on his back.

“Peter!” Erik shouted, helpless to do anything but watch.

“Peter!”

Eyes widening, Peter turned his head towards the barrier. There was no one there, but it had sounded like…

“Dad?” he whispered.

Realization punched Erik in the chest. ‘He heard me.’

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who came to that conclusion, the others either staring at Peter in surprise or eyeing Erik warily.

Hank’s expression never changed from its frustrated glare as he still continued to rapidly tinker with his equipment. They all knew he just needed more time, yet time was something Peter didn’t seem to have.

Erik had waited long enough.

He strode towards the barrier, ignoring the others’ protests, flicking his hand and sending all of them except Charles flying back with the metal on their suits.

“Erik!” Charles shouted, powerless to stop him with the helmet on.

Stretching his arms in front of him, Erik felt the resistance immediately but pressed on. Keeping his eyes ahead, his world narrowed down to his son. His body pushed forward, moving through the barrier, yet still not in Westview.

‘Get to Peter,’ he thought to himself. ‘Just get to Peter.’

Charles watched as Erik vanished from sight, the glimpse into the alternate Westview disappearing entirely. There was no Peter, no Wanda, no Vision. No Erik.

“Did he make it through?” he asked shakily, looking to Hank.

The scientist rushed to his device, studying the equipment and swallowing roughly.

“Hank?” Charles prompted.

“I… I don’t know.”

The White Vision squeezed Wanda and Peter’s throats, both of them struggling against the android’s hold. The two gasped for air, unable to free themselves. Not even Wanda’s powers could make the being relent.

Dangling just a few feet off the ground, both of the Maximoffs’ efforts to fight back dwindled to nearly nothing, their bodies slowly going limp.

The White Vision suddenly stiffened, its hands opening to release the multiverse twins. As Wanda and Peter fell to the ground, coughing and struggling to catch their breath, White Vision’s form was dragged through the air down the street.

Glancing over, Wanda stared at the new arrival; a man wearing a helmet, his eyes fierce as his hand seemed to summon White Vision over to him.

“Who-“ she coughed, her voice scratchy. “Who is that?”

Following her line of sight, Peter couldn’t help the surprised yet relieved smile that came onto his face. “That’s my father,” he replied.

Wanda watched with wide eyes as the man clench his hand into a fist, and the robot crumpled in on itself. He flicked his hand to the side, and the crumpled ball of robot was discarded to the side. She sighed in relief, knowing that was one less threat against her family to worry about.

Peter was up and speeding over to his father, “Dad, how did you get here?” Peter said as a greeting, letting out of soft ‘oof’ as Erik pulled him into a hug. He hugged his father back, unable to stop himself from grinning.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Erik whispered. He stepped back, looking him over. “Agatha’s magic?” he asked.

Peter blinked, surprised. “How do you know about that?”

“The broadcast,” Erik sighed. “It’s how we found you.”

“It made it all the way to your universe?” Wanda asked, embarrassed.

Erik looked over at her, forcing himself to shove down his protectiveness of Peter. The two seemed to be allies at the moment, and it wasn’t her fault Peter had been dragged into this mess. He understood the desire to bring back those who had been lost; he couldn’t really blame the girl for any of this. “It did,” he replied simply.

“Dad, this is Wanda,” Peter introduced with a wry grin. “My alternate universe twin.”

Wanda could feel herself smiling at that.

“And Wanda, this is my dad, Erik,” Peter added.

“Thank you for your help,” Wanda said. She turned back towards town. “I need to make sure Vision’s okay,” she added.

Erik’s brow furrowed. “That wasn’t…?”

“No, that’s some creepy clone or something,” Peter countered. “The real Vision is with the twins…” His voice trailed off, staring behind Erik. “Hey Dad, you’re not... doing that, are you?” he asked hesitantly.

Frowning, Erik glanced back, shocked to see the White Vision stretching out from the tangled mess Erik had left it in. Slowly but surely, it’s limbs resumed their normal form, White Vision standing upright once more.

“Oh Wanda,” Agatha’s singsong voice echoed around them. She hovered in the sky above the trio, smirking. “You didn’t forget about little old me, did you?”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed. “You two take care of that,” she said, gesturing to the approaching White Vision. “I need to have a little chat with my neighbor.”

She flung herself into the air with her powers, chasing after Agatha and leaving the father-son duo on the ground.

Glancing back at his son, Erik asked, “Shall we?”

Peter grinned. “After you, old man.”

“In a given space, only the witch who casts the rune can use her magic,” Wanda recited. “Thanks for the lesson.”

Peter sped him and Erik to the town square, holding onto his father’s arm as they came to a stop. Erik grimaced at the motion sickness, but still couldn’t help but feel amazement at his son’s gift.

“Uncle P!”

He turned just in time for the twins to crash into him. “Hey demon spawn!” he greeted, hugging them back. “You guys alright?”

The boys both began talking excitedly, their voices overlapping. Erik watched Peter interact with them, surprised to see Peter seemed as attached to them now as he did when under the witch’s control. When Wanda returned from talking to Agatha, although Erik supposed she was actually Agnes now, the boys rushed over to Wanda’s side and Peter watched them fondly.

“They’re good kids,” Peter said after a moment. Erik remained silent, clapping a hand on Peter’s shoulder as they watched the family of four embrace each other.

Wanda murmured softly to Vision, who nodded. He led the boys off to the side, and Wanda approached Peter and Erik. “I know I have no right to ask you for anything,” she began, “but can you watch the boys until I get back? I need to tell Vision goodbye.” Her voice cut off as she choked up. “I don’t want them to see it happen.”

Peter stepped forward. “Wanda, are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “I need to do this.”

“Okay,” Peter replied. “We’ll be here.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Wanda sighed.

Peter shrugged. “Eh, what are alternate universe twins for?”

Wanda chuckled, squeezing his arms. She nodded at Erik before heading back to her family, directing the boys towards their uncle before taking Vision’s hand, the two of them beginning the trek back home.

Vision looked Wanda in the eyes. “We’ve said goodbye before, so it stands to reason-”

“We’ll say hello again,” Wanda finished.

“Goodbye, my darling…”

Chapter Text

“Erik!” Charles shouted, powerless to stop him with the helmet on.

Stretching his arms in front of him, Erik felt the resistance immediately but pressed on. Keeping his eyes ahead, his world narrowed down to his son. His body pushed forward, moving through the barrier, yet still not in Westview.

‘Get to Peter,’ he thought to himself. ‘Just get to Peter.’

Charles watched as Erik vanished from sight, the glimpse into the alternate Westview disappearing entirely. There was no Peter, no Wanda, no Vision. No Erik.

“Did he make it through?” he asked shakily, looking to Hank.

The scientist rushed to his device, studying the equipment and swallowing roughly.

“Hank?” Charles prompted.

“I… I don’t know.”

Peter shrugged. “Eh, what are alternate universe twins for?”

Wanda chuckled, squeezing his arms. She nodded at Erik before heading back to her family, directing the boys towards their uncle before taking Vision’s hand, the two of them beginning the trek back home.

Vision looked Wanda in the eyes. “We’ve said goodbye before, so it stands to reason-”

“We’ll say hello again,” Wanda finished.

“Goodbye, my darling…”

FIVE MONTHS LATER…

It was Charles’ turn to watch over Geraldine. The poor girl had been unconscious for a little over a week now, though it was miracle she even survived.

When the President asked the X-Men to rescue the NASA team, a tear ripping through the very fabric of reality hadn’t even been a factor in the mission plans. Yet, that was exactly what happened. Jean had been about to attempt diverting the solar flare that was bursting through the tear in space, only for a bright figure to fly through from the other side. The bright figure then somehow closed the hole and when the team recovered it- her- they’d been shocked to discover it was Geraldine.

There’d been no severe injuries or damage that Hank had been able to detect, other than exhaustion and some bruising. She’d clearly been in some sort of battle, which was surprising enough. Though, in all fairness, Charles knew she wasn’t really Geraldine.

Geraldine was a character, created by Wanda in the Westview of that alternate universe. This woman, whoever she truly was, somehow came from that reality.

Meaning the barrier between dimensions wasn’t completely shut.

Which meant that maybe, just maybe… they could bring Erik and Peter home.

Geraldine shifted in the hospital bed, groaning lightly as she slowly woke up.

“Where am I?” she murmured. “What happened?”

“It’s alright, you’re safe,” Charles assured. Hank, he sent mentally, she’s awake.

On my way, Hank thought back.

Geraldine pushed herself to a seated position, wincing as she did so.

“Easy,” Charles insisted, reaching a hand out to her. “You’ve been unconscious for about a week.”

“A week?” she repeated in shock.

Charles winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have led with that…

Thankfully, Hank entered at that exact moment. “Oh good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I- fine, I suppose-“

Hank checked her vitals, “Any dizziness? Nausea?”

She shook her head. “No, just… tired,” she answered, eyes still darting between them. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose introductions are in order,” Charles nodded. “I’m Charles Xavier, this is Hank McCoy. You’re currently in New York. Westchester to be exact.”

“Captain Monica Rambeau,” she responded in kind. “I need to make a phone call and contact my team.”

Hank glanced at Charles nervously, before looking back at Monica. “That may be a problem,” he informed.

Monica frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Captain Rambeau,” Charles began, “what is the last thing you remember?”

“I was with my team, in… in space...” Monica’s voice trailed off, and Charles could sense the memories returning to her. Her realization was projecting strongly enough that Charles didn’t even need to probe her mind to tell that she knew.

The Captain let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, shit.”

MEANWHILE…

Erik enters the cabin with a sigh, relieved to be out of the cold, and taps the security code into the perimeter alarm. Depositing the freshly chopped wood by the fireplace, he glances at Peter’s sleeping form on the couch with fondness.

A crackling sound catches his attention, orange sparks forming on the far side of the living room.

Erik’s immediately on the defensive, putting himself between this unknown potential threat and his son, hissing out Peter’s name to rouse him.

Peter, for his part, is up and awake in seconds. Seeing the growing sparks, he rushes to stands at Erik’s side, with Erik putting his arm out to avoid the boy from moving any further.

Rambeau and Fury had assured them the cabin was safe. Not even Agent Woo knew the exact location of the safe house.

Reaching out for all the metal surrounding them, Erik watches as the sparks turned into a circle—

A cloaked man steps through, a young dark-haired girl walking alongside him.

“That’s far enough,” Erik warns.

The man looks at the floating metal aimed at him and nods in understanding. “Erik Lehnsherr, Peter Maximoff,” he greets, “my name is Doctor Stephen Strange. This is America Chavez. We need your help.”

“With what?” Peter asks, frowning.

America takes a step forward, fear in her eyes. “It’s Wanda,” she replies. “She’s trying to kill me.”

MAGNETO AND QUICKSILVER WILL RETURN…