Archive of Our Own ^beta

Leonia, New Jersey, US

140 Hillcrest Ave

The home of Mr. Victor Shade and Mrs. Penelope Montague

Near 2AM in the morning

He woke up suddenly, his breath nearly stolen from him, the aftermath of…the nightmare? Premonition? He didn’t know, but he knew he didn’t like it.

Billy Maximoff’s eyes were wide open as he sat up in bed, his brain and body trying to catch up to his frantic breathing. Panic still flowed through his body, the instinct to run away from the situation – what his father would no doubt identify as a ‘flight or fight’ response – was very strong, even as his brain tried to calm him. It still took him a moment to realize where he was.

Both his physical body and his brain told him that he was in a bed; not just a bed, but his bed, in his new home in a city called Leonia. He was in his bedroom, across from his twin brother and they were on the second floor of their home. His parents were down the hall and the bathroom he shared with Tommy was slightly down from where he was.

Realistically, this should’ve been a comfort for him, but his mind was racing. Worse, after the…images he saw, the boy wondered if maybe this was the dream instead and what he had awoken from was his real life. Was he imaging being in a house, reunited with his brother and parents? Where he was safe in a home?

Billy sat on the plush mattress for a few minutes, probably more than he was giving himself. Once calm, the boy looked around, observing his surroundings, and accepting that this was indeed the real world; he was actually wrapped in sheets and a bedspread, sitting in the middle of an aptly named twin bed, in a bedroom that was obviously in a house. While it was similar to their house in Westview, that is not where he was, he was in the next city over.

It was a complete change of scenery from the year he and his brother had been held captive within the dreaded book of sins. Only a short two weeks had past since their release and their reunion with their parents, that horrible ordeal ending with their little family hanging up posters, watching a movie, and then going to bed. The days that followed were seemingly the same – breakfast with the family, going outside and hanging out with the neighborhood kids who were clearly intrigued by the appearance of children to a couple they thought didn’t have any, lunch, dinner and a movie, and bed.

Rinse and repeat.

It was the summer months, so it made sense that neither he nor Tommy were expected to do anything, but there had been a few innocent questions that had come from their new friends, specifically about their previous schools and where they had lived before.

Answers the boys didn’t exactly have.

Perhaps an unknowing child could pretend they didn’t have the knowledge being asked of them, but Billy and Tommy were more than aware of what those answers were.

To a point.

Clearly, their parents were masquerading as the Shades and not the Maximoffs, which made sense considering the…thing that happened in Westview. That was something they didn’t know; there was a reason they weren’t in Westview and it wasn’t just because they had been essentially kidnapped by the witch Agnes. It was something big because whenever the city was mentioned, both their parents would be quick to change the subject or would do their best to not talk about their previous home.

Billy didn’t understand that…actually, there was a lot the boy didn’t understand and he was sure Tommy felt the same.

The boy began to settle back down into, the call of sleep dragging his body to snuggle against his pillows. They had been through a lot and this was probably just his mind trying to work things out; there was no reason to be worried. Everything would be okay, they were together now and anything that could happen, his parents would protect them against.

Closing his eyes, Billy went back to sleep, hopeful for the future that would come.

Unknown to him, trouble always seemed to follow a Maximoff. No matter their location.

What We Owe Each Other

I. ABOUT THE ADEQUACY OF REASONS FOR ACCEPTING OR REJECTING PRINCIPLES

Two weeks is a long time for a ten year old.

It had been a little over two weeks since Tommy and Billy Maximoff had been freed from their magical prison, two weeks since Wanda and Vision Maximoff had found and rescued their children while also securing and returning the dreaded Darkhold to the Sorcerer Supreme Doctor Strange, and two weeks since the latter two had somewhat reluctantly re-joined a new roster of Avengers.

Two weeks since the family of four journeyed to their new home in Leonia, two weeks of them learning how to be a family again, maybe for the first time.

It was a strange sense of renewal, rebirth some would say, for all involved; Billy felt…weird, was the best way to explain it, but the boy couldn’t exactly tell you what that weirdness was. Things were very different outside of Westview, outside of the book…the loudness that he had once complained about to his mother seemed to be ever present, like a radio continuously flipping through a wide variety of stations.

Sometimes the radio would be off, almost like the switch had been flipped, other times, it was like sitting in the car with Tommy as he went through station after station after station; to put it mildly – it was annoying as hell.

He had mentioned this weirdness once, to his mother, right after Halloween, but she had been…well, let’s say she had been in the midst of an episode, so Billy decided that he’d bring it up when she felt better. In fact, he could feel it – he could feel his mother’s sadness that seemed to overwhelm him whenever they were in the room together; it was something he had been feeling more and more, especially when his father hadn’t come home the next day.

And speaking of his father, Billy wasn’t sure, but something about the synthezoid seemed…off.

The most obvious reason would be that he didn’t have the yellow colored gem in the middle of his forehead like he used to; now it seemed to be replaced by a small upside down blue triangle. Billy was sure he had seen that type of design before, but he couldn’t remember where or when.

His mind was already a jumble of confusion by the time he woke up the next day, the images from the night before still heavy in his thoughts. Tommy had already headed downstairs and was in his seat at the dining table, eagerly awaiting the breakfast their father was preparing in the kitchen to the side. Billy groggily made his way from their shared bedroom, but stopped short at the top of the stairs.

The boy rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the voices slowly beginning to build behind his skull; he could hear the sounds of people, places, and things beginning their day just as they were – parents were making breakfast, going to work, while children were sitting down to watch television or were running outside. Birds were chirping in the trees, the wind was blowing slightly, the grass was growing, things were moving around in the dirt and underground…

Cities were being built, cities were being torn down, the earth was spinning slowly on its axis…

Take a deep breath.

The voice was muffled against the backdrop of noise filling his head, but he did as he was told.

In for four, then out for four.

That was much clearer, though not as loud as he expected it to be. The breathing was actually helping, as the static and noise began to fade and the boy opened his eyes. He was still standing at the top of the stairs, but not only was his mind clearer, he wasn’t standing alone. Looking to his left, he saw his mother standing next to him, smiling slightly down at him. “Morning,” she whispered.

“Morning, Mom,” he replied, smiling widely in return.

Wanda’s own smile grew, as she threw a comforting arm around her son and began leading him downstairs. “Sleep well?” she asked.

The boy shrugged in response. “I guess so,” he said. “Sleeping in a bed was nice.”

“I bet,” the woman chuckled. “There’s nothing better than sleeping on something soft and something that’s uniquely yours.”

Billy nodded, though that feeling came back, that feeling of sadness that would come to her sometimes. As they crossed over towards the dining room, the boy turned towards her, a question on his lips, but he didn't go through with it like he wanted. He clearly wasn’t subtle enough because Wanda saw the questioning look on his face.

“Billy?”

He debated for a bit before plastering the smile back on his face. “It’s nothing, Mom,” he said. He hurried over to the table, taking a seat next to his brother, just in time for Vision to place a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast before the two of them.

“Bacon eggs!” exclaimed Tommy, grabbing a fork and eagerly shoveling food in his mouth.

“I’d tell you to tuck in,” Vision quipped. “But you seem way ahead of me. Thomas, please chew your food before swallowing or you’ll choke.”

The eldest waved a hand in acknowledgement, even as his mother gave him a look. “Slow down, Tommy,” she admonished, taking her own seat and plate as Vision took the seat next to her.

“If you choke to death,” Billy began. “I get to have the whole room to myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” growled the boy.

“Boys,” Vision warned, giving the two a look.

“No one is choking to death,” Wanda stated, taking a bite out of her bacon. “Let’s not…iskušati sudbinu.” Both boys looked at her in confusion.

“Tempt fate,” Vision translated.

“What does that mean?” Tommy asked, around a cheek full of toast and bacon.

“Don’t speak with your full mouth,” the synthezoid replied. “And it means not doing something that is risky or dangerous.”

“It means to avoid doing something that could result in that something turning bad,” Wanda corrected.

It took a moment, but both boys seemed to understand what their parents were trying to tell them, nodding and saying, “Oh!”

Tommy swallowed, a question on his lips, but like his brother before him, he found that he couldn’t ask what was on his mind. Instead, he opened his mouth and piled more eggs into it. The action didn’t go unnoticed, by either parent, though they weren’t sure if they should approach the boys about it or not. It took a moment for Wanda to realize what she had done, the slip into Sokovian came much easier to her now, but it was something she hadn’t really used while in Westview.

Not since the boys were babies and Geraldine had been at the house.

Before Wanda threw her out.

As far as the boys knew, their mother was born in Westview or at the very least, was an American born citizen. They hadn’t exactly explained Vision – not the conceptual version or the real one that had returned – but as per the script Wanda’s reality followed, the boys had been aware that their father was not human; that was why they had never questioned his appearance from synthezoid to human. Glancing at her husband, the witch could feel his own thoughts on the matter, that perhaps they had gotten so used to their alternate reality, they hadn’t thought to consider the ramifications when returning to the actual outside world.

Did the boys have questions?

Were they afraid to ask?

“Boys…” he started, causing the two to look up at him. It was as though no time had passed at all; they were still the ten year old boys he’d last seen in Westview, the same ten year olds who had gone from babies to toddlers to children in a literal day. The thought that they could still have that ability, that they could easily age themselves up should the occasion occur was both fascinating and terrifying.

The two waited for their father to continue his thought, their curiosity heightened at the way he’d address them. Even Vision was at a loss as to what his original train of thought was, his mind now realizing the actual loss of time he’d truly gotten with his own sons. The three were in a confusing staring contest that even Wanda was perplexed by until the chime of the doorbell managed to startle all four.

Both adults tried looking out into the foyer, out the window to see who could possibly be at their door. They weren’t expecting company and the worse case scenario was that one of the Avengers was coming here to recruit them again. “I’ll get it, darling,” Vision murmured, standing from his chair and heading for the door. He was already in his human disguise by the time he’d opened it, revealing the petite form of their neighbor across the street, Susan Weiss. Susan was on the short side, barely approaching 5’5 at most, with a short brunette bob cropped slightly below her ears. Her smile widened upon seeing the blonde, her light brown eyes lighting up at his appearance.

“Oh, Victor!” she cooed. “You are home. Andy said he stopped by a few days ago and you and your wife appeared to be gone for the day.”

Vision chuckled in response. “Susan, hello,” he greeted. “Yes, Wa…um…Penelope and I were out of town visiting some old friends, a bit last minute or else we would’ve gotten the Johnsons to check on the mail and plants.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Susan replied, her smile only growing. “Sometimes you can’t help but want to spend some time away, perfectly understandable. I was actually coming by to ask if you happened to have seen RJ’s football in your backyard. Apparently, he and the Johnson boys were playing outside and it may have gone over the fence. And with you being gone…”

“Of…of course,” the synthezoid chortled.

While Vision and Wanda had only been in the neighborhood for a little over six months, they were acquainted with a few of their neighbors. The aforementioned Johnsons lived in the house to their left and consisted of husband and wife Kevin and Marla, respectively, and their three sons Kyle, Mark, and Jeffy. Susan and her husband Anderson, usually called Andy, lived directly across the street from the Maximoffs and had one son, Rustin John, who went by RJ.

There were a few more people who the couple knew by face, but not name – the elderly woman who rode by on her bicycle every morning between 8 and 9 o’clock and the elderly man who took his small motorcycle out everyday at precisely 10:15.

For all appearances, the couple who resided at 140 Hillcrest Drive were Victor Shade and Penelope Montague, a young couple who dealt in artifacts and investigative history. They had no idea they were living next door to two former superheroes and current, possible fugitives.

“Well, if I happen to see it…” Vision continued, but was interrupted by the slight change in the air as it quickly went past him.

“Here you go.”

Tommy appeared by his side, his arm outstretched to the woman at the door, a football at the other end of it.

“Oh!” Susan gasped, startled by the sudden appearance. “Oh, hello! Thank you…aren’t you a dear? What’s your name?”

“Oh, uh…Thomas, this is our neighbor Mrs. Weiss,” Vision introduced. “She lives across the street. Susan, this is our son, Tommy.”

“Hi.”

“Your…your son?” the woman stumbled. “Oh. Oh! My apologies, Victor! We…we…we all thought you didn’t have any children.”

“Ah, yes,” the synthezoid laughed, nervously. “So sorry. The boys have been out of the country, visiting their grandparents.”

“Boys?” the woman asked, confused.

Her question was immediately answered with the appearance of Victor’s wife, Penelope, along with another boy. His looks were very similar to the boy she met named Tommy, though he wore a different set of pajamas than his brother, who clad in green while the second boy was dressed in blue.

“Susan, good morning,” the red head greeted. “Billy, that’s our neighbor, Mrs. Weiss. She lives across the street.”

“Good morning,” the second boy said, politely. “We found your football.”

“Yes, you did,” Susan smiled, taking said football from Tommy’s hand. “Thank you very much. I’ll let you all get back to breakfast. So lovely to have met you boys. Bye now!”

The quartet waved, saying their own goodbyes as well. The brunette hurried down the steps and across the street to her own home, her mind buzzing with the information she had just learned.

She couldn’t wait to tell her husband.

II. THIS BURDEN IS ONE HE COULD HAVE AVOIDED BY CHOOSING APPROPRIATELY

The darkness was the worst part.

It wasn’t that Billy was afraid of the dark, but it was hard to be brave when you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. That would’ve been okay, if not for the voices. The voices of the people or souls or whatever were in there with them, trapped just like they were, except they had been there far longer than the twins had.

The absolute worst thing was that some of these souls had been here for centuries, millennia even, and their torment was very palpable.

It literally felt like the walls were closing in and the air was getting thinner.

“Help us!”

“Release us!”

“Please stop,” Billy whimpered. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how to help.”

“You can’t help…” whispered another voice, one deeper and more troublesome, especially in the darkened environment. “You’re all alone here.”

“No, I’m not,” Billy said. “Tommy’s with me.”

The voice laughed, a scary sound on its own even without the surrounding darkness. “Oh no, your brother is with me,” the voice said. “And neither of you will ever leave here. You are mine now.”

Billy wanted to dispute that, but suddenly he was bombarded with frightening images – a young man’s face twisting in pain and horror, a young woman going up in flames, a young girl crying as someone inserted a strange needle into her arm…

Billy woke up, his heart beating erratically and small beads of sweat gathered at his temples. His nightmares were growing and getting more disturbing as the nights went on. Just like the other nights he had awoken, the bedroom was dark, with only a sliver of light coming from the street lights below and the night light that lit the hallway outside their bedroom.

The younger twin looked over to the other side of the room, seeing his brother nestled in his own bed and apparently sleeping soundly. Billy couldn’t help but be a little jealous of the way Tommy was able to sleep so thoroughly sometimes, even when things weren’t going well. The boy tried to follow the words of his mother, to breath in and out calmly, but the visions still flashed across his mind when he closed his eyes. Billy’s head moved to look at the digital clock that sat on their shared bedside table, seeing that it was just a little before one in the morning and the boy was sure he wouldn’t be able to continue sleeping in his bed.

Sighing, he pushed the covers from his body and slowly slid out of bed, making sure to catch his teddy bear Mr. Bearly before it could hit the floor and possibly wake his brother. Despite the summer weather, the house was a moderate temperature, the coolness of the air conditioning making the room bearable, with help from the cooling breeze from outside. Ensuring that his movements hadn’t woken his twin, Billy stepped quietly towards the half closed door, opening it, and stepping out into the hallway.

There were two paths the boy could take – to his right were the stairs, which would lead down to the first floor, a bowl of ice cream, and maybe some late night television or he could go to his left, where the master bedroom was and where his parents were most likely asleep on the other side. Given the shakiness of his breathing, Billy opted to go left, the hope that perhaps his mother and father could make sense of what he was seeing.

The younger twin made the walk towards his parents’ room, noting that the door was partially open and quiet. “Mom?” he whispered, poking his head around the door. Like his own room, theirs was dark as well, though Billy could easily pinpoint his mother sleeping in bed; she was facing the door, lying on her side and deep asleep. Taking a step closer, the boy noted that his father was missing, his side empty with the covers pulled back.

Billy turned slightly, seeing the darkened master bath off to the side, so his father wasn’t there; not that his father ever needed to use the bathroom like a human would. The boy looked around again, wondering where his father could be before a large yawn overtook him. Rubbing his eye, the boy nonetheless stumbled his way to the other side of the bed, crawling in from his father’s side and sliding under the covers.

Snuggled up against his mother’s back, it didn’t take long for the boy to go back to a dreamless sleep.

Vision took a deep breath, his chest cavity filling with the cool night air. His need for breathing had never been an issue, as there was no need for him to do so, but he had always found the act of breathing to be…calming and soothing in times of upheaval or stress.

Moments earlier, an intense memory had invaded his thoughts, causing him to wake in a minor fit of terror. He had never been prone to nightmares before - at least not before Thanos had invaded both the earth and his mind - though he knew Wanda had often been one of their victims.

His wife also tended to be a light sleeper and, not wanting to wake her or worse worry her, Vision had decided to take his mild disturbance elsewhere. So for the past twenty minutes, he had hovered outside their home, doing a quick perimeter check before floating himself up to the roof.

The night air was cool, helping to bring down the higher temperatures of the day and it was quite peaceful at this time of night. The synthezoid tried using the familiar breathing techniques he often coached Wanda through, breathing in and out on a four count and while his overall panic subsided, the memories were still within.

While Vision knew he would always have these particular, troubling memories, a large part of him wished he would never think of them again. As a synthezoid, he technically did have the means to erase these things; with a few lines of code, he could forget Thanos ever coming to earth and their eventual showdown, for instance.

But the very act of doing that would only trigger the other event he wanted so badly to ignore - his resurrection at the hands of S.W.O.R.D and it’s former director. And though he was more than happy to state that it was truly Wanda’s magic that was the final ingredient needed, the fact of the matter was that it was Hayward’s direction that his body was taken from the lands of Wakanda and stored until the moment he was released onto the streets of Westview.

Vision was thankful that he had been given this second chance - truly he was! - but if he had his way, he would have never been revived. That or he would’ve tapped into his wife’s reality powers much earlier, taking them both out of play upon Thanos’ arrival. And certainly there was a lot to be thankful for now - he and Wanda were together, they had been reunited with their children, and they were finally, seemingly, living their dream of a quiet life.

Regardless of the idealistic life he held, those previous events would always plague him, no matter what.

Wanda had once told him that her grief over her brother’s death was like an ongoing wave that would knock her down and swallow her; endlessly, on loop, for eternity. At the time, he hadn’t understood her meaning, hadn’t understood the context of the human expression and feeling of grief. All he had known was that his teammate seemed to be suffering and the others weren’t sure how to help her.

It was funny, then, that he should now be in that same position.

The difference was of course that he hadn’t exactly lost someone close to him; he had just lost…well…himself, if he was honest. Yes, the combination of his conceptual self and the physical being that had been Vision should’ve been the completion to the overall person that was The Vision.

But sometimes, he didn’t feel like Vision.

He held the near identical look as his former self, minus the Mind Stone, but his sense of fairness, his sense of the beauty of humanity was…tarnished. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in humanity - he did - but it had been…tempered by some of the actions he had encountered by others.

It was one thing to hear about the experiences of others - how James and Sam would always be treated and looked at differently because of the color of their skin, how Wanda’s own muting and desire to mimic the sitcoms she grew up with a way to bury the ‘outsider’ perception many Americans held against foreigners, how she and Nat would need to overly exceed and succeed due to their gender - but it was another to have those experiences.

Vision could at least understand these failings in humanity - he was, after all, an other; not enough human characteristics to be human and yet, not fully computerized either. Not that it mattered if he kept his human disguise on all the time - he was essentially a walking, talking computer and his use was only seen for that purpose.

Hayward had wanted to make a weapon out of him, a mechanical being with no feelings, no emotions, and more importantly, no attachments that could sway him to go against his programming.

The mere thought of Hayward caused the synthezoid to ball his fists tightly, a frown immediately appearing on his face before he relaxed his shoulders and arms. It was growing late and he had been out there for some time, ruminating. He again tried a breathing exercise, this time finding a measure of success that managed to release some of the tension he had built up.

Nothing wanting to spend away more time away, Vision easily phased through the roof and the small attic space until he was drifting through the ceiling of his bedroom. His feet silently touched on the carpet floor and he turned to resume his position in bed, however he noticed that his spot was now occupied. Tilting his head, he could make out the small form of his youngest son, his face buried next to his wife’s back and cuddled around her.

Unsure as to why the boy was in bed, the synthezoid none the less searched his internet databases for the case. Most of the articles that appeared was about why co-sleeping was either a great idea or a horrible idea, but he was finally able to find the reasons for children to be sleeping with their parents. Many options were their own sleeping difficulty, with a mention of children having nightmares and wanting to comforted, even if their parents weren’t awake.

Had Billy had a nightmare? And if so, what could it have been about?

It didn’t seem right to wake the boy and shoo him back to bed or worse, wake him to find out what his reasons were to be in their room. Instead, Vision just shrugged, phased into a more child friendly appropriate form of pajamas and climbed in next to his son. He dropped a fatherly kiss on the back of his head and powered down most of his systems.

Wanda drifted out of slumber slowly, her dreamscape changing from her strange dream of having too many pineapples but not enough apples, for some reason and back into the waking world. 

Normally, she’d wake up and turn, facing the red face of her beloved husband or she’d feel the squeeze of his arm around her waist. Today, however, she woke up on her back and found she couldn’t move her left arm, even when she tried. Turning her head, she was met with the back of a small, brown tousled head that was currently using her arm as a pillow.

When she tried moving her right arm, she was dismayed to discover that she could only move that one slightly; turning to her right, the same brown hair stared back at her, but this time the little body was actually partially draped across her middle, which would explain why she couldn’t really move her upper body.

The bedroom door opened quietly, revealing Vision, already dressed in a dark, plaid button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of jeans. He smiled fondly at the sight that greeted him, the gesture only growing at his wife’s confused gaze. “Do you know what’s going on here?” she asked, softly.

Vision took a seat on the side of the bed, careful not to jostle Tommy as he continued to sleep on. “I believe Billy came to sleep with us sometime in the middle of the night,” he explained. “I didn’t know about his brother until I awoke this morning.”

Wanda’s confusion only mounted. Though they hadn’t spent that much time in Westview, the witch couldn’t recall any time the twins had ever come to sleep with them in their room. Even after the events of that fateful Halloween, the boys had only come in to notify her of the strangeness that was happening in the house and that was during the day.

We might be able to ask , Vision communicated, gesturing to the moving form of Tommy, who was wiggling around.

The boy, who had been sleeping on his side, turned so his face was buried in his mother’s pillow and further onto her arm. “Tommy,” Wanda groaned, as the boy turned again and began to face her. “Dečačić, you’re about to crush Mommy’s arm.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the boy mumbled, snuggling closer before letting out a yawn. The act was too cute for Wanda to not deliver a good morning kiss to his forehead.

“Is that Tommy?” asked a sleepy Billy, who also began to turn from his position on his stomach to his side to face the voices coming from afar.

“Sit on up, lads,” Vision said, a fond smile for the boys as he gave Tommy’s legs a gentle pat. “Let your mother get some feeling into her arms.”

The twins did as they were told, though slowly as they tried to work their tired little bodies into a sitting position. Wanda copied them, pulling herself against the pillows and the headboard, before wrapping an arm around Billy and pulling him closer. The youngest didn’t protest, if anything he leaned into the comforting gesture, wrapping both arms around his mother and snuggling against her side.

“Any particular reason I’ve woken up to your delightful faces,” she asked, trying to look at Billy, who immediately buried his head against her side.

At the time he’d come into their room, he was just seeking comfort of some type after his dream, but now that it was morning, the entire thing was embarrassing, especially with his dad and Tommy there. Honestly, he felt like a big baby and he was supposed to be ten years old, for goodness sake! Granted, in the grand scheme of things, technically he and Tommy were still babies, given the fact they had easily aged themselves up twice in a single day.

Afraid of their reactions, Billy just shrugged sheepishly. 

“Hey,” Wanda whispered, giving the boy an affectionate squeeze. “You know you can tell us anything, especially if something’s bothering you. You know that, right, Billy Bear?”

The boy nodded, slowly.

“Did you have trouble sleeping?” Vision ventured, hoping some help in the manner would help his son open up.

Though reluctant, Billy none the less nodded again. “I had a bad dream and got scared,” he mumbled. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, probably judging his babyish behavior, despite feeling his mother’s hand rubbing up and down his arm. To be honest, the young boy was expecting his family to laugh at his predicament, at his childish reaction to a simple dream.

“Everyone has bad dreams sometimes,” Wanda whispered, giving Billy a squeeze. “There’s nothing with that, but you have to remember that these are just dreams and they can’t hurt you.”

Vision nodded. “Dreams are your mind trying to work through your feelings,” he said, summarizing years of reading about dreams, nightmares, and interpretations; this information had come after watching his wife - at the time, his teammate and friend - suffer through night terrors after the events of Novi Grad and the death of her brother.

Billy’s small face scrunched in confusion. That didn’t make sense; why would his feelings want to give him nightmares?

“Do you want to talk about it?” questioned his mother.

The younger boy’s mouth thinned, the choice behind keeping quiet or revealing the truth weighing on his mind. “I dreamed I was still in the book.”

Neither adult said anything, but both tensed at the confession. “I can see why you would be scared,” Wanda murmured, giving the boy another squeeze.

“And what about you, young sir?” Vision asked, poking the leg of his older son. Tommy had been quiet through this whole thing, mostly feigning the grogginess of still waking up, but he had been listening to his brother’s tale, almost knowing immediately what had sent him out of their bedroom and into his parents.

“Did you also have a bad dream?”

His father was still speaking, still asking a question that - like his brother - Tommy was reluctant to fully answer. Shaking his head, Tommy mumbled, “I got scared cause I couldn't find Billy.”

The adults, while quite familiar with the concept of bad dreams, didn’t exactly have any experience with the dreams of children and certainly not dreams that were clearly manifested from their own experiences. Wanda, the brilliant woman that she was, gave her husband a look and said, “We know you boys went through a lot and your father and I couldn’t be more proud. You were so strong and smart to not only get through what happened, but to make sure you were able to come back to us. Your dad and I know what it’s like to get scared about things…”

“You guys get scared?” Tommy asked, looking between his parents in surprise. He was smart, so he knew sometimes adults could be frightened, but these were his parents; there was no way they could ever be scared of anything!

“A shock, I know,” Vision chuckled, patting the boy on the leg. “But your mother and I have…well, she is correct. We were very worried and scared about the two of you, for instance.”

“Do you stay scared?” asked Billy, his voice small and muffled.

“No, anđeo,” Wanda cooed. “Luckily, being scared doesn’t always last, but sometimes being scared can be scary. You’re afraid that something bad will happen and it makes it scary to do things.”

“Were you ever scared, Mom?” Tommy asked.

Wanda was silent for a moment, to the point that Vision thought perhaps he would need to speak on her behave and the twins wondering if maybe this was something her mother didn’t want to admit. “When your Uncle Pietro went away,” she began. “The first time, the…real time…I was afraid I’d never be able to do anything. I was afraid I wouldn’t be happy anymore.”

This was the second time she had talked about her brother in front of the boys, perhaps a clear indicator that Agatha had manipulated her to some degree when her Fietro suddenly knocked on the door one night. In hindsight, Wanda did wonder why she hadn’t created alive versions of her family – Pietro, their mother, and their father – perhaps it was because those heartaches were in the past, while Vision’s had been fresh.

Certainly, if she had discovered her powers right after the loss of her only family and the only home she’d ever known, perhaps she may have created those memories.

“But you know what?” she continued, looking down at Billy and then over at Tommy. They both shook their heads. “After a while, I wasn’t afraid.” Her eyes found Vision’s with her next words. “I was actually quite happy, because I had really good friends who wanted to make sure that I was safe and would always protect me.”

“Always, darling.”

That had meant to go to her through their mental link, so it was only at the fact that their eldest made a disgusted noise that Vision realized he had said the statement out loud. “Are you guys gonna kiss?” he groaned. “Ew.”

“You know,” the synthezoid huffed. “One day, you’ll find kissing to be quite enjoyable.”

“Ew, Dad!”

“But not for many, many, many, many, many, many,” Wanda stated, a hand clamped to the back of the boy’s neck. “Many, many, many, many years from now.”

“Alright,” Vision chuckled, standing. “Up and at ‘em, chaps. I just came up to check if anyone was awake for breakfast.”

“Yes!” Tommy exclaimed, jumping from the bed and rushing to the door. “Dad, can we have pancakes?”

“I already have the ingredients out.”

“Oh, I like Dad’s pancakes,” Billy said, moving himself away from his mother. “They’re the best. I mean…” He gave his mother a look. “I like your pancakes too, Mom.”

Wanda scoffed. “Your dad makes fantastic pancakes,” she admitted. “I have no issues in admitting that.”

That seemed to give the boy some comfort, because he gave the redhead a smile before leaving the bed in a move to catch up to his brother. Tommy was already out the door, had been twice now and had returned twice to see where the rest of his family were. Seeing Billy, the two managed to race downstairs, the eldest having the easiest time winning due to his speed, leaving the parents in their bedroom.

“That was a lot of ‘many’ years you gave out,” Vision smirked, standing as Wanda stretched and climbed out of bed.

The woman shrugged. “I only meant about 30, 50, 100 years, whichever one of those comes first.” She tilted her head, the familiar sign for a good morning kiss, that Vision was more than happy to deliver. “I’m gonna take a shower and be down in a bit.”

“I’ll save you a plate,” was his response, along with another quick peck on her lips and forehead.

The two headed in their separate paths, as the synthezoid watched his wife’s departure with a bit of longing. The thought that he might be able to join her was tempting, but then he heard Tommy’s impatient cries of hunger and that made the decision for him. Once out of the bedroom and in the hallway, Vision’s mind then turned to the boys’ reasons for being with them that morning and it made him even more concerned about their health than he had let on earlier.

From the running shower water, Wanda was thinking the same thing.

III. RELATED DUTIES CONCERNING THE EXPECTATIONS WE LEAD OTHERS TO FORM

For the rest of the day and into the next morning, Vision couldn’t help but think over the words of his sons. From his online research, childhood nightmares were very common, however it seemed like the average age was between 3 and 6. It wasn’t unheard of for children at this age to have nightmares, though Vision noted that children who had experienced a traumatic event would tend to have vivid dreams from several weeks or months afterwards.

But that of course brought into question what he and Wanda should actually do about it.

From all reports, the suggestion of getting the boys professional help was the most recommended. Certainly that wasn’t completely out of the picture, however the thought of seeking out a child therapist made him think of maybe his wife wanting to meet with an adult one as well.

It was no secret now the tragedies that had plagued Wanda since childhood and while she had managed to survive through it all, Vision knew more than most that his wife could still sometimes suffer from the same prevalent nightmares that had dogged her in the past. The synthezoid was of course more than willing to be an ear or a shoulder to lean and cry on, but he was no expert in treating that trauma and was not explicitly trained in analyzing human emotions.

Especially not in his changed state.

And though he was of the opinion that yes, the boys maybe should be seeing someone, this was not his decision alone; he would need to discuss with Wanda on what her thoughts were on the matter. 

That’s what led him to sitting on their bed upstairs while the boys were playing at the neighbor’s home. Wanda had made a visit to the Sanctum Santorium earlier in the day, but stated she’d be home by lunch time at the earliest. Since then, Vision had been trying to formulate the discussion he knew he needed to bring up, pulling up the facts and statistics in case Wanda had any questions.

It was nearly an hour after the expected arrival when Wanda finally arrived back home. Stephen and Wong had some updates on their previous magical mystery tour, something they felt would be important for Wanda to be aware of. The redhead had recently begun to meet with the Sorcerer Supreme and some other magic users at a strange, mysterious bar that was hidden from the world through…what Wanda had to assume was some sort of dimensional portal.

She had actually been on the way home when she had run into Bucky Barnes on the sidewalk, apparently wandering the streets looking for a place to have an early lunch. The former soldier had offered her a free meal and comfortable companionship and the witch was hard pressed to say no, so the two had headed to a nearby diner. It put her a little behind schedule, but she knew the boys would most likely be occupied at their new friends’ house, which left her husband by himself.

And if she was honest, it gave her a few ideas of her own, as long as the boys were out.

“Vizh?” she called, opening the front door and looking around the foyer. 

Upstairs, darling.

Glancing up the stairs, Wanda closed the door, and made her way up. She found her husband sitting on their bed, looking contemplative and slightly pensive, especially when he noted her appearance in their bedroom. “ Šta nije u redu, ljubavniče? ” she asked, raising an eyebrow at his demeanor.

“I’ll explain in a bit,” he replied, clearing his throat. “How was your meeting with Stephen? Good? Bad? You were a little late, so…”

Shrugging, Wanda strode the few steps to place herself in front the synthezoid, her hands resting on his shoulders as she looked down at him. “Things are good,” she said. “For the most part. They’re still trying to discover why magic seems to be disappearing, but the spread seems to have halted for the moment. For how long, we don’t know. And…I was late because I ended up running into Bucky on the way out and he invited me to lunch. I didn’t think we had plans, but…”

Vision shook his head, his hands immediately going to rest on her hips. “Other than enjoying a child free morning and afternoon,” he began. “I hadn’t thought anything past that.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, planting herself between his legs and giving him a look. “I had a few ideas downstairs on how we can spend the rest of the time we’ve got…”

“Darling, I would love nothing more,” he sighed, giving her hips a squeeze. “But…there is something I think we need to discuss beforehand. If…if you aren’t opposed.”

Wanda gave him a look, this time of concerned curiosity, as she asked, “Everything okay?”

“Oh,” he said, realizing what his tone indicated. “No, Wanda, it’s nothing…if anything it’s something that I believe we have encountered recently that has made me…consider some options we might employ.”

“The boys.”

Vision nodded.

Wanda released the tension she had been holding with her husband’s statement, not sure what he might have been going with everything, but of course he was correct. Even when they weren’t speaking telepathically, the couple were usually so in sync with each other, they were aware of thoughts that didn’t need to be spoken.

“Ordinarily, I’d say this was just the latent signs of childhood normalcy,” Vision began. “But after some investigation and with recent events…”

“You’re afraid this is a sign of something else entirely,” she concluded, which the synthezoid nodded to. “I was thinking that, too. The other morning I found Billy standing at the top of the stairs; I honestly thought he looked too afraid to go down.”

“Why?”

She took a breath, her eyes dropping as her hands did, her fingers toying with some of hte peach fuzz on his sweater. “If I had to guess?” she began, quietly. “He almost looked as though he wasn’t sure if this was real or not.”

Vision took a deep breath through his nose before letting it out. “Wanda…”

“I know,” she sighed, running a hand down her face. “Vision, believe me, I’m worried too. And of course I’m open to any kind of suggestion you have.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” he responded. “Because I’ve been worried that perhaps my ultimate suggestion might not be something that you would initially consider.” Wanda gave him a look. Taking another breath, Vision reached for one of her hands, before bringing it to his lips.

“You of all people know and understand traumatic events,” he began. “And you’ve managed to survive through all of it and I have no doubt that our sons will be able to do the same, but…there’s only so much we as their parents can provide them. And I have and will always be the support and comfort whenever and however you need, but I am no expert, darling.”

Wanda was quiet, knowing exactly what Vision was alluding to. Though he himself had never broached the subject with her during their time together, the others had tried to gently suggest that she may want to seek professional help. Once the accords had passed and she had been on the run, that option was only good if she happened to be in the same vicinity as Sam and she never felt right about taking advantage of his counseling abilities, even if he had offered them on more than one occasion.

“Did you know Bucky had to attend court mandated therapy sessions?” she asked, the question seemingly unrelated to their current topic. Vision none the less shook his head. “I don’t remember how we got on the topic, but in order for him to achieve the pardon he got after…the battle, he had to see a therapist and basically atone for his previous actions.”

“Atone?” the synthezoid asked. “But Bucky was a victim; he had been manipulated by Hydra since his time in the second world war.”

“Well, as Bucky tells it,” she continued. “He may not have been in control of his actions, but he still did them. And he did hurt some people that just ended up…in the crosshairs.” Looking away, she whispered, “Even if you don’t mean to, the knowledge that you’ve hurt people can still weigh on you.”

Maybe it had been divine intervention for her to have run into Bucky that afternoon; her husband was right, he had been the pillar of strength and support she had needed in a way the others hadn’t understood or could even be at times. Strangely, if anyone could understand the dilemmas she often faced, it was the former soldier.

Bucky had been a subject of Hydra, though their circumstances were different at how they arrived into the organization’s hands, their treatment had been the same and had the same result - human weapons made to destroy their enemies. It was only in hindsight - for both - they realized the toll all of the hurt and destruction they had caused.

The soldier had told her of the sister he hadn’t been able to see grow up, the mother he hadn’t been able to bury and mourn until much later, and friends who were older while he stayed young. He hadn’t meant it, but the talk had put Wanda back in that cozy apartment, before everything that happened…happened.

She hadn’t been able to truly mourn her parents or even her brother, not the way most would do so. It was only later she learned that Stark of all people had commissioned a headstone and burial for Pietro, something she hadn’t been able to see or attend. Even now, almost a decade later, she hadn’t seen her brother’s grave and there was nothing left of her old country to even contemplate creating one for her parents.

“He says she’s a very nice lady,” she continued. “Tough, won’t allow him to get away with being an ass, which in some cases can actually be helpful.”

“Are you considering seeing her?” asked Vision. “Even if just for a first impression of her personality and services?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda whispered. “It’s not that I’m opposed, I just…I’m not sure I want to bring all of that up again. It was bad enough when Agatha did it.”

Vision nodded, understanding clear on his face. While Agatha Harkness had been helpful in their last adventure, the synthezoid didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her and then some. Wanda was well aware of her husband’s feelings, but appreciated that he did his best to hold some of the errant thoughts that would pop up whenever the elder witch’s name was mentioned.

“I might give her a call.”

The statement was slightly mumbled, but as always he was able to hear it, looking up at her and giving her side a squeeze. “Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked, quietly.

Wanda shook her head. “I think this might be something I need to do on my own,” she responded. “But I appreciate it. And what about you, muža?”

“What about me?”

Lifting her hand again to rest on the side of his face, she tsked. “Always so ready to help everyone and those he loves, but forgets to take care of himself.” The ability to blush was something he had never actually been able to do, the sensation of heat still rose to his cheeks in embarrassment. “I know you can’t sleep sometimes,” she continued. “Before long, the whole house is going to be sitting downstairs in the middle of  the night, watching reruns on TV.”

Vision couldn’t help, but chuckle, despite the seriousness and truth of the statement.

“It’s…” he began, but saw the slim eyebrow of his wife raise, daring him to continue with the typical comment they had both used in the past to cover the lingering feelings that flowed through them. Dropping his head, the synthezoid sighed. “I don’t like waking you,” he murmured. “Especially when I know you need the sleep. You apparently aren’t the only person who has noticed I’ve…seemed a little out of sorts lately.

“Sam made a comment to me recently about stopping by the support group he runs. I found it interesting he was still leading the group, given his new association as Captain America, but he said things don’t necessarily have to change just because he’s known as someone else now.”

The red head copied her husband’s earlier chuckle. “That’s such a Sam Wilson thing to say,” she said, a smile on her face. “But I’m sure there was a meaning behind it, that probably applies to both of us. And he might be right.”

Vision nodded. “Captain Rogers chose his successor well.”

“So will you?” asked Wanda. “Go to one of his meetings then?”

He shrugged. “Those discussions are reserved for military personnel who have suffered significant trauma in the line of duty,” he said.

“And that doesn’t apply to you…how?” she asked, kindly, stroking his cheek and turning his head so he could look at her. “I know we don’t often…we’ve never talked about what…happened, but the circumstances are somewhat similar.”

“I doubt many soldiers aside from Sgt. Barnes are brought back to life and used as a governmental weapon,” he huffed.

“I’m not talking about that.”

Vision tensed before relaxing somewhat, though his thoughts still raced. When described in such a way, Wanda was correct – Vision had been a member of the government backed Avengers and in trying to stop the approach of Thanos and protect the Mind Stone at all, the synthezoid had willingly given his life if it meant stopping the mad titan from destroying the world.

And if that had been the end of it, it would have been the same sacrifice that Captain Rogers himself had done at the end of second world war and what Tony Stark had done to fully and finally stop Thanos once and for all.

But it hadn’t.

While three of the founding members of the team had given their lives to save humanity, Vision’s own sacrifice had been violently reversed, Thanos using the Time Stone to rewind time to the point before Wanda had completely destroyed the stone before ripping it from his forehead himself.

It wasn’t to say that he didn’t remember the event – he did, and with great detail – but he had focused on the pain that his wife had gone through, his order to kill him only being derided by his very murder before her very eyes. His anger on that event only fueled the constant rage at what his death had eventually led to.

“Point taken,” he whispered, nodding slightly.

“I’m not saying you have to…”

“No, I know,” he interrupted, turning his head to kiss the palm at his cheek. He took her hand, kissing it again, before giving it a grateful squeeze. “It’s…these are big decisions that shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Wanda nodded in argument. “Vizh,” she replied. “I know you want the best for the boys, but if we do this…if we think that a professional is the best person for them to speak to, they have to be prepared to know just exactly who and what they are. And who we are.”

That was a sticky situation, for sure. Their citizenship status may have been resolved and they weren’t expecting a team of agents to come pounding on their door anytime soon, but it was precarious on what rights they did technically had at this point; Ross was just waiting for the moment one or both of them made a mistake, no matter how minimal or trivial.

And who knew what the secretary would do if he found out about the twins.

“That’s completely understandable,” Vision said. “But where would we find someone who…well, who would be willing to counsel a family of former superheroes?”

“That’s a good question,” sighed Wanda. “I mean, I guess ask Bucky’s therapist, seeing as she was able to counsel him and seemed to be aware of…his unique past. Outside of that…”

Giving her hand another squeeze, Vision said, “We’ll continue to look into it, especially if things begin to get worse. Luckily, I think we have resources and people that can point us in the right direction.” Pulling her closer, the synthezoid fell back on the bed, taking his giggling wife with him. “Now, if I heard right, you said you had some thoughts on how we could occupy ourselves in the limited time we have until the boys come back?”

IV. WHAT WE OWE EACH OTHER

Two weeks turned into three and before they knew it, a month had passed since the reunion of the Maximoff family. In that time, both Tommy and Billy had begun making friends with the neighborhood children, exploring their new home, and growing in excitement about this new life they were going to live.

But along with the bright spots – being with their parents, meeting new people – there was still a building tension that seemed linger in the home.

It reminded Billy of Westview, when his parents were fighting, though not actively in front of him or Tommy. He’d heard from various TV shows that when parents fought or hid their fighting, they were going to get a divorce, something the young boy didn’t want at all. He didn’t get the sense his parents were angry with each other or that they were angry at all, but there was something…something just buried under the surface, that would maybe explode at some point.

Billy wasn’t sure if he should be scared or not by that.

As it would happen, he didn’t need to wait long before it did.

It was a Thursday evening when things finally came to a head. The boys had been across the street at the Weiss’, playing with their son RJ and one of the Johnson boys from next door. That seemed to be a daily occurrence at this point, where the two Maximoffs went off to play, either the two running out of the house in the morning or one of the boys coming over to invite them to play.

A typical summer for two young boys.

But Tommy and Billy Maximoff were not your typical young boys. And it was becoming clear that the others in the neighborhood were starting to notice as well.

It started when RJ and Mark started playing with their combined collection of action figures, a grouping of different characters from G.I. Joe, Matchbox cars, and anime figurines; however, it was the larger collection of superhero figures that threw the entire afternoon off. To start, neither twin had ever seen or heard of the figures being pulled out and they were even more thrown for a loop when Mark showed off his Avengers collection.

Both Tommy and Billy tried to play along, as though they knew who these people were, but the other two weren’t fooled, especially not when they started talking about some alien who had killed half the world. The confusion must’ve been so clear on their faces, RJ quickly tried to explain, wrongly assuming that the two had either just been born or had been taken like everyone else.

Needless to say, it had been a very confusing morning.

Luckily, as children, it was easy for the four to get over that hurdle and continue on with playing in the afternoon sun, running around, and just enjoying the wonders of childhood. But the event wouldn’t completely leave the way the day had, the sun lowering in the sky and Marky being called back home, giving Tommy and Billy the desperately needed out they had wanted ever since mid-morning.

While the twins warred with confusion, their parents grappled with the next course of action on what they should do for the mental state of the entire household. Their previous conversation hadn’t left either of them, the contemplation of professional therapy being both a salve and wound at the same time. Though both parents were aligned on the prospect of their sons perhaps seeing someone, they couldn’t exactly say the same about seeing one themselves.

Wanda had played around with the small white card Bucky had given her, the name Dr. Christina Raynor embossed across the front. She had done her own research, looking up the doctor and her credentials, noting her military service and medical specialty; given the breadth of her expertise, the witch was worried that the former military officer was only seeing military personnel, which completely left her out of the running.

She had even texted Bucky, asking if the therapist truly knew the patient she was treating. Wanda figured the soldier would respond back that she had been briefed on her unique patient, but that she was strictly a military psychiatrist and one not open to the general public. She was then surprised when the response came back that she had been retained by Stark Industries to help any member of the Avengers or any of their allies.

Bucky further surprised her when he followed up with the admission that Rhodes had seen her himself, during the two years the team had been broken apart.

Ironically, the endorsement did nothing to alleviate her fears or uncomfortable nature of having to relive events she would rather just put out of her mind. She knew Vision felt the same way, the very allusion to them in Wakanda was enough to make him tense, the memory too painful for him to dwell on. If the very thought of these things caused them pause, how would they be able to discuss them in front of a complete stranger?

Dinner that night felt strange, everyone could feel it, that something seemed off, but each were afraid to mention it. Wanda had an almost uncontrollable urge for ćevapi, a traditional grilled minced meat dish that had been a favorite of hers during the warmer days in Sokovia, when it was perhaps too warm for shells and bullets; a moment of relative calm before more fighting began again.

The preparation of that dish made her think of another – mućkalica – which was normally made from the leftover barbeque meat the night before. Her mother had often combined the meals, making the minced meat dish during the week and then having the stew for the weekend.

It always reminded her of family time, when they would gather at the table – if her father had returned early, he’d make a nuisance of himself in the kitchen, distracting Mama with quick kisses before stealing bits of meat or vegetables, she and Pietro making faces and giggling at the display. They would eat dinner then settle in front of the TV, a new sitcom to watch if they were lucky; even if they weren’t, Wanda had been excited to watch anything that was American, anything that showed how life could be.

This resurgence of her memories, of the fun times she and her family had in Novi Grad, seemingly came out of nowhere, though her thoughts reminded her that this had been going on for some time, since she had stopped fighting against her own self and her own powers. For a long time, she thought she was the last of the Maximoffs, the sole survivor of a relatively small, unremarkable family; through a series of interconnected incidences, Wanda again had a family, one that she could continue the Maximoff name with.

There had never been an official conversation about their surname, however Vision seemed more than happy to become a Maximoff, only their alias’ contributing the name of Shade; even then, her husband hadn’t batted an eye when using her assumed name when introducing themselves. She hadn’t been sure if it was something he felt needed to be done, taking her name, or if he had always assumed they’d be the Maximoffs and nothing else.

Three plates of ćevapi had been placed on the table, the meat surrounded by chopped onions, a bit of ajvar, peppers, and sour cream. A half slice of flatbread had been placed under the links, accompanied by a butter knife and fork. Vision often wished he had more of an actual palate, especially whenever his wife made food from her home country; she usually held such a joyful expression when cooking, a small hum coming from her lips, a smile wrapped around the vocals as she prepared.

He'd always helped in the preparation, a ready to learn assistant standing at her side, as she gave him the rundown on cooking in general. She was the definite chef in the home, but Vision had proved to be a very adequate sous chef in her stead.

Tommy and Billy had sat down at the table, their faces confused at the strange food placed before them. “Tuck in, boys,” Vision said, gesturing towards the food.

“What’re we having?” asked Tommy, poking at his meat.

“Ćevapi,” Wanda replied. “It’s like minced meat, but grilled. I took a page from a friend of ours and put the grill to good use today.”

The elder twin, far more adventurous than his twin, immediately did as their father had instructed, stabbing one of the links and popping it in his mouth. The first bite was apparently all he needed, because he began shoveling the onions and peppers right behind the meat, mumbling about how good it was. Never wanting to be left out when it came to his brother, Billy took a hesitant bite from his meat, using the knife to cut a small piece before placing it in his mouth.

His reaction was the same as his brother, the flavor the meat combining with the onions and peppers into a delicious dinner treat. Tommy used the flatbread as a simulated taco, piling most of his plate into the small slice. “Mom, you should make this like every day,” he complimented, trying to take to fit the strange combo between his lips, only for most of it to fall out the back.

Wanda chuckled. “I’m sure I can make it a regular thing,” she said. “But probably not every day. And slow down.”

“Did you boys have a good time at the Weiss’ today?” asked Vision.

Both boys looked up, their eyes wide as though they had been caught in something either dangerous, inappropriate or very not allowed. “Did something happen?” Wanda questioned, looking at their expressions. It took a moment before each boy was shaking his head in the negative.

“No!”

“Everything was okay!”

“We had so much fun!”

“Too much fun!”

Wanda and Vision looked at the two in slight confusion, wondering if they should continue with the line of questioning, but Tommy’s next question stopped them. “What did you two get up to today? Hopefully nothing gross.”

“Oh, we totally did a bunch of gross things,” Wanda said. “Kissing, hugging…whole nine yards.”

“Nerds,” Billy chuckled, his mouth still wrapped around some onions and peppers.

“Gross nerds,” Tommy added, smiling at the two.

“Yes,” Vision replied. “But we’re your nerds, so…you are stuck with us.”

“You are going to have many, many years of us doing gross stuff for you,” Wanda suggested.

“I don’t remember us volunteering to do that.”

“Parental right,” Vision said.

Dinner had clearly been a preview of how the rest of the night would go; in fact, it was the indication that had been growing for several days.

The conversation mostly flowed freely and happily, though there were times when someone would falter in an answer, but trudged on, ignorant of the looks they received. Several times, one of the boys looked like they had wanted to ask or say something, but each time they backtracked; the same could be said for their parents, who also endeavored to speak to them about…something, but like their sons, they kept their mouths shut.

Washing the dishes afterwards was a simple matter – the boys helped their father rinse and then place the dirty dishes within the dishwasher before heading into the living room to set up their choice for movie night. Have you noticed anything off about the boys?

The question was casually asked, but Vision could hear the concern within the statement. He looked over his shoulder towards the foyer, seeing the back of his wife as she watched the boys figure out which movie they wanted to watch.

There is definitely something going on with the both of them, he replied. Should we ask?

Do you think we should?

Vision dried his hands on the nearby towel before joining her as she headed for the couch, sitting themselves on either side of the twins. “What was the verdict, lads?” Vision asked, bumping into Tommy playfully.

“We couldn’t decide on a movie,” Billy sighed, wiggling himself further into the cushions. “So we decided to go with a classic – Ozzie and Harriet.”

“When did we get Ozzie and Harriet?” asked Wanda, trying to remember when she or Vision had purchased the long running classic sitcom.

“It’s streaming,” Tommy answered. “Mrs. Johnson is a big classic TV nerd; she has like a million TV shows and knows where to find them.” Leaning over, he continued with, “I told her you were also like a total geek about classic sitcoms and she made a whole list of stuff you should watch. It’s really long. I didn’t even know television was that old.”

Leave it to Vision to not let that tidbit alone, quickly telling the boys an abridged history of television, with its roots beginning with vaudeville and then growing with the advent of the radio. Wanda had heard this story – one of the first her husband had been eager to share with her once he had learned it himself – and it never failed to endear him to her more.

She hadn’t told him how worried she was about him, how their now shared trauma was shaping them both; Vision had always been a strange mirror to her, his calmness against her heated thoughts, her impulsiveness against his relative guidelines…it worked for them, for better than she had ever expected, but now it seemed as though those roles had been reversed.

Where she was now the calmer one, the one who wasn’t quick to act as she had been, Vision could barely hold his temper on things; a stark contrast to the synthezoid he had been in years past.

That of course brought up their recent discussion, something she continued to play around with in her mind. Speaking with some stranger about her life and the events that shaped it was odd enough, but adding in the things she had done and the witch she had become was something entirely different; even if it was with someone who counseled a hundred year old super soldier.

The adventures of the Nelson family played out on the television, an episode where youngest son Rick and his fraternity brothers had to sneak into their opposing frat’s house and retrieve their mascot. It was typical shenanigans one would expect from a group of young men in the 1960s, but for some reason the episode failed to really capture the imagination of the family watching it.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity the twins had with the show – after all, they had only just learned about it a few days ago – or maybe it was jumping into the well established lives of the Nelsons – the episode was at the start of season 14, well after David and Rick had become adults and were even engaged to their real life wives – something about the normal evening sitcom viewing was…off.

And then the toy commercial came on.

Given that the channel they were watching was dedicated to classic television, it made sense for them to run classic commercials along with the programming, helping to give off the nostalgia of the original broadcast. And seeing as this was one of the longest running television shows in history, that just happened to be family friendly, a toy commercial wasn’t out of the ordinary. This one certainly was.

It began in black and white, a young boy playing with the action figure of Captain America. This was the Steve Rogers version, depicted in his wartime uniform from when he fought during World War II; despite the war having ended seven years before the very first episode of Ozzie and Harriet, the show itself was still on the radio at that time and when those shows moved into television, of course advertisers would take advantage of the medium.

The commercial however suddenly changed, the camera technique of dissolving from one subject and then revealing the transition from the Captain America of old to the Captain America of modern times. Replacing the first boy in the first commercial, there were now a group of children playing with the Sam Wilson version of the hero, along with action figures of the Hulk and Iron Man.

“Huh,” Vision murmured, the word pretty much summoning up the reactions he and the rest of his family were experiencing.

The shock quickly seemingly gave way to fear and then confusion, neither of which came from the adults, something both Wanda and Vision not only felt but turned to look at the two boys between them for clarification. “Boys?” their mother asked, seeing the surprised looks on both their faces.

“Is something wrong?” asked their father.

“No!”

The exclamation from both was supposed to put the adults at ease; it clearly did the opposite because Wanda was quick to grab the remote and turn the TV off and turned to the two. “Alright,” she said, sternly. “Out with it. The two of you have been off since dinner, so what exactly is going on.”

“It’s nothing, honest!” Tommy tried to state, looking to his brother to back him up. Unfortunately, Billy’s reaction was quite the reverse; he had dropped his head, a look of resignation on his face, as though he already knew it was pointless to try and keep something from their parents.

Especially their mother.

“Boys,” Vision replied, his voice gentle but also commanding to show that this was now serious business. “It’s clear that something has made you upset, but your mother and I can’t help with the situation if we aren’t aware of the situation. And there is obviously a situation.”

Knowing the jig was literally up, Tommy and Billy slumped even further against the couch cushions. “Alright, first and foremost,” Wanda began. “Whatever it is, your father and I aren’t going to be mad about it. Maybe disappointed, but that really all depends on what’s actually happened. Okay?”

The two nodded.

“Can we make an estimated guess that whatever has happened initially happened when you were over at the Weiss’?” Vision asked.

Again the two nodded.

“Did something bad happen?” asked Wanda. She didn’t exactly explain what ‘bad’ meant, but the twins wouldn’t be acting this way if something ‘good’ had happened.

“Not bad, exactly,” Billy whispered.

“It’s just…” Tommy started, before glancing at his brother and then shrugging. “We were playing and RJ was asking questions and we didn’t know what the answers were.”

“Ah,” voiced Vision. “And I take it this was in regards to the action figure we just saw or something similar?” Again, the answer to his question was met with two identical nods.

This was by far the biggest moment of truth the two of them had to face; even the prospect of facing all of the other dangers in their line of work, having to reveal their lives and history to their sons was still the most daunting and frightening aspect of their lives. And the choices were clear.

They could either keep the twins in the dark, brushing off the incident with a rather convenient story.

Or they could tell them the truth, all of it, everything that made up the two adults on the couch and ultimately, the family name the boys carried.

And Wanda had most definitely made up her mind.

“Okay,” she whispered, a look of determination on her features. Vision had always loved this side of her, but in this moment, he wasn’t sure what she would actually do. “I know…you and your brother have questions, probably a lot of questions and…and a lot has happened, to us, to people we know, and to people we don’t know. And…”

Looking at the two children she had grieved at losing, had fought to get back, she continued with, “I don’t want you, either of you, to think that you can’t come to your Dad or I about something, no matter what it is. So…if you have questions, then you should ask them, and your father and I will answer them.”

Tommy and Billy looked at each other, questions and confirmations passing between them on what needed to be asked and whether it would be answered or not. Appearing making the decision for both, Billy turned to look at his mother and asked the question that he and his brother had wondered for well over a month.

“What’s an Avenger?”

The question, though not exactly unexpected, managed to catch both Vision and Wanda off-guard. The two looked at each other, wondering who would answer the question and what exactly the response would be. The synthezoid decided he would field the query, trying to adjust the explanation to the story less jarring.

“An Avenger is someone who helps people,” he described. “As a group, we…they are tasked with the protection of everyone around the world and help to protect it from outside threats.”

“Our friends that you met,” Wanda continued. “Those are Avengers.” Before resuming, the redhead looked at the boys. “Did RJ mention the Avengers to you?”

Both boys shook their heads. “When we got rescued,” Billy replied. “The guy with the arrows-”

“Clint,” Vision supplied.

“Right,” the boy said. “Him. Well, when he was letting us out, he said that he was an Avenger. He was kinda confused when we didn’t know what that was.”

“Ah.”

The explanation made sense; they would often introduce themselves to people, especially those who were frightened during an experience. This was of course certainly true when dealing with children and Clint, who was a family man with three children himself, would have introduced his affiliation, hoping it would put the boys at ease.

The archer had just learned his two closest friends – one whom he considered more of a daughter than a sister – had children, literally a few hours before he met the two. Of course Clint would be confused, most likely assuming the boys were aware of who their parents were, creating equal uncertainty as the boys were presented with friends they had never even known their parents had.

“Are you guys Avengers?” Tommy asked, timidly. Given the nature of their rescue, the comment by the man named Clint, and the apparent aversion in their father’s testimony seemed to reveal that perhaps there was more to their parents then they believed.

Again, their parents looked at one another, each trying to decide how to best answer that question. “That’s…” Vision began, glancing at his wife to gauge her thoughts.

“We were Avengers,” she admitted. “That’s actually how your father and I met. Or rather…we met during an Avengers mission and…”

“Eventually joined the group,” the synthezoid finished. “As to our status now…your mother and I have decided to focus primarily on being there for you boys, but…”

“But?” the eldest asked, excitedly.

“But,” Wanda countered. “We do help the others on occasion. Should they need us.”

“So you’re like…part-time superheroes?” asked Tommy.

The adults seemingly shrugged. “That’s…a good way to put it, I guess,” replied the witch.

“How did you become Avengers?”

Now that the initial question had been asked, the knowledge of their parents lives before Westview would’ve been exciting regardless, but knowing that they had been – and currently were – superheroes was intriguing. Vision must’ve seen the hesitancy on his wife’s face, because he was already cueing himself up to deliver a very quick summary of what happened in Novi Grad, but Wanda shook her head.

Instead of shrugging off the story, Wanda gave a short flick of her wrist, a somewhat faded photograph appearing in her hand. Turning, she offered the image to Billy, who took it and looked at it strangely. “To understand the reasons why I and your father ended up in an Avengers’ mission,” she began, her eyes gazing fondly over the image. “You know to know about Sokovia.”

Isn’t that the name of that rule book or whatever Kyle was telling us about?

Wanda hadn’t exactly heard the question, but the feelings that came from her sons told her this was not the first time they had heard the name of her home country. Taking a moment, she began to point out the figures in the picture. “Those are your grandparents,” she murmured. “And your uncle – your true uncle – Pietro. This is one of the last pictures we ever took together and the only one I still have left.”

It was funny – Wanda had spent days fretting over the prospect of telling a complete stranger her life story, but yet, a simple question asked by her youngest child seemed to propel her to open up about the family that haunted her, the family she loved despite having lost so long ago.

And open up she did.

She described the country of Sokovia before the wars, of the childhood she and Pietro had enjoyed before they had needed to sequester themselves inside. However, their parents never allowed them to think much about the fighting and destruction that happened outside their walls; inside, their home was as warm as any other because of the activities the adults ensured would keep the kids occupied on the happiness that would one day come.

And for them, for her, that happiness was television.

Because of the state of the country and the turmoil that existed, most American sitcoms trickled in well after their air date and many classic shows were becoming big again thanks to the advent of the DVD and assembled collections. She spoke of her father doing his best to find shows they hadn’t watched, Wanda being a serial binge watcher even as a child, and the family learning the American language through consistent watching.

She talked about her mother, who was always kind, but stern when she wanted her two children to do what they were told; that was especially true of Pietro, who tended to get into more trouble than perhaps they admitted when they were younger. It was the first time she had discussed her parents in…well, quite some time.

It was rather ironic that the last person she did speak about her parents with sat at the other end of the couch. Wanda could’ve left the story there, left the happy memories where they were, but when Billy ultimately asked what happened to his grandparents, she only hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Remember how I said there was a war going on?” she asked, both boys nodding. “Well…sometimes wars affect people who aren’t involved with them, which is why they’re…just really harmful for everyone. But when you’re fighting a war, you sometimes don’t think about those that are outside of your enemy.

“When your uncle and I were about your age, one of the missiles that were being used to fight struck our apartment. Pietro and I were able to escape, but…unfortunately, your grandparents weren’t so lucky.”

In any other circumstance, or maybe any other family, speaking so frankly about death - especially deaths that were not natural or peaceful - to small children would’ve been seen as taboo or inappropriate, but the budding witch had been adamant that if the boys wanted to know the truth about the Avengers, they needed to know the whole truth.

It could’ve been easier to just sugarcoat and say that she and Vision had met on a mission, but if the boys were getting outside information - especially about them - it was far better they hear the stories from their parents, who were there and lived it, than a second or third handed account of events.

Besides, the death of Oleg and Irina Maximoff was what led the first Maximoff twins to Hydra, which led to them facing off against the Avengers.

Wanda had some tact, of course; she glossed over their time in the orphanages, then foster homes, and then living on the streets. She and Pietro had to grow up incredibly fast and given her own twins’ ability to age themselves up, she didn’t want them to imagine life on the streets to be exciting nor did she want them to shun those who had no choice but to end up there.

Vision stayed largely quiet as his wife went through a small portion of her childhood. He had heard some of these stories before, and others, but he didn’t want to derail her narrative. He had internally questioned if telling the twins the whole story was a good idea, but he too came to the same decision his wife had - it was better for the two of them to tell the truth than for the boys to hear it elsewhere.

Certainly, that was one of the reasons why they sat here now.

So he sat and listened, only interrupting once - the point where she admitted her and Pietro’s involvement in several of the country’s protests before ultimately joining Hydra and then Ultron. It was in argument to Tommy’s question, “You mean, you were like a bad guy?”

“Yes.”

“No,” the synthezoid countered, receiving a look from Wanda for his answer. The boys turned to him, confused as to why he would say something that didn’t match up to what their mother was saying. “Your mother and uncle were trying to find a means to better their country. Sometimes, boys, good people do bad things because they believe it’s the only way out of situation.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re bad, just…misguided. And unfortunately, your mother and uncle became involved with people who were bad and did bad things, but told people differently.”

“Your father’s being incredibly nice,” the redhead retorted, though she did give him a small smile for his efforts. Vision always tried to see and believe the good in her, even when she felt - and was treated - as the biggest threat the world had ever seen. “But I guess he is right in a way.”

Holding up her hand, she let a small tendril of magic weave through her fingers, watching as it whirled and wrapped around at a slow pace. “Pietro and I did want a better life and a better country,” she continued. “And we were willing to do anything to get that. That’s…how I got this and that’s how I ended up fighting against the Avengers.”

“At first.”

“At first,” she conceded.

From there, Vision took up most of the story, how the being known as Ultron had wanted to destroy the earth and wanted the Maximoff twins to help him. Once they realized what his plans were, they immediately tried to reverse their actions and atone for their previous misdeeds. The synthezoid then quickly explained how he came to be - a product of Ultron, but also a product of some of the Avengers, and he too joined them in battle to fight against Ultron.

“What about Uncle P?” Billy asked. “You told us once that he was far away. Is he still in Sokovia?”

“No,” Wanda murmured, shaking her head. “You know our friend Clint? Well, he was one of the founding members of the Avengers; in fact, he’s the reason I wanted to stay and help fight against Ultron. He and the others went to go rescue the citizens, get them on air cruisers so they wouldn’t get hurt. Well, there was a mother on board one of the ships who had lost track of her son and Clint went out to go find him.

“Ultron saw him, saw them both and was going to shoot, but Pietro moved himself in front, so Clint wouldn’t be hit. Clint saved that little boy’s life, but your uncle died saving his.”

That was a lot to take.

Not the violence of everything - they watched TV after all - but the thought that their mother was the only member left of her family. At least until them. And worse, they all sounded like really nice and great people, people that Billy and Tommy would’ve like to have met one day. “Sorry, boys,” the mother whispered. “I know you were probably hoping and expecting a much better story.”

“No,” Tommy said, shaking his head, but shrugging. “Well, I mean, yeah, but…”

“I like the truth better,” Billy finished, his brother nodding solemnly.

The truth was hard, clearly, but it was better than lying about something. And it was sad, but that just made things…better; that sadness Billy had noted from his mother now made sense. She was probably thinking about her family, knowing that they couldn’t be there to see the house they now lived in, they couldn’t meet her husband, and they would never know her children.

Billy couldn’t imagine what he and Tommy would do without their parents. They barely kept it together even when they knew their folks were okay or at least hoped they were. He still leaned over and gave his mother a hug, hating how bad her life had been when she was such a nice person and a great mom.

“Do you boys have any other questions?” Vision inquired, knowing that children often followed up one question with several others. Billy seemed content to stay in the warmth of his mother, but Tommy seemed to still be buzzing with energy. “Thomas?”

Taking a breath, Tommy asked, “What does it mean when someone gets snapped or blipped?”

Again, the two adults looked at each other, Wanda looking down at the head of her youngest. “RJ?” she asked, receiving a nod in response.

“He asked if we had been snapped cause we didn’t know who the Avengers were,” he replied.

In a reverse of the earlier conversation, Wanda looked to Vision, wondering if she should continue talking, but the synthezoid shook his head. “I’ll take it, darling,” he whispered. Looking down at his son, he asked, “Do you remember what I said about the team? That we protect those on earth against extraterrestrial threats?”

Both boys nodded.

“Well,” he began, swallowing. “A few years ago, there was a being…called Thanos, who came to earth with the purpose of - to his point of view - help us balance our world.” For obvious reasons, the boys gazed up at their father in confusion. “Thanos believed that our world and others were in danger of being extinct due to overpopulation and that in order to maintain an efficient economy, there needed to be balance.

“And that balance meant that a good portion of the world needed to be…disposed of.”

“Like killed?” asked Billy.

“No,” Wanda said. “Just…disappeared. Removed from the planet entirely.”

“But what about people’s families?” Billy asked. “RJ said it was really sudden and no one could say goodbye.”

“Unfortunately, Thanos did not think about the impact on others,” the synthezoid whispered. “And sadly, that’s what happened - Thanos was able to make half of the population disappear, very suddenly and without warning.”

“But…” Tommy huffed, a combination of confusion and frustration. “Why didn’t you guys do anything? The Avengers, I mean. You said they helped people.”

“Tommy…” Wanda started, believing the conversation had reached the end or at least, to a point that was still very painful for both her and Vision. However, the synthezoid held up a hand, stalling her protest.

“It’s alright, Wanda,” he said. Once again, he looked at his eldest and seeing the guilt on his face, he laid a hand against the boy’s neck. “It’s alright, son,” he continued. “You’re right; the Avengers were formed to protect the people of earth, from all threats. Unfortunately, before Thanos arrived, there was a…rift between the group.”

“Dad, what’s a rift?” Billy questioned.

“It’s like a disagreement,” he explained. “There was…is…a law that affected many of the Avengers, including your mother and I. And possibly the two of you, as well. Tony Stark, who was Iron Man, believed that, as protectors of the world, we needed to be held accountable whenever we cause destruction to an area because of fights that we have with our enemies.

“As your mother said, sometimes people who aren’t directed involved in our crusade end up getting hurt, and that’s the very opposite of what we want. Captain America, the first Captain America, believed that if the governments of the world were in charge of us, we wouldn’t be able to help others when they needed it. Some of us believed what Tony thought was true…”

“And some of us believed Steve,” Wanda added. “That’s why we weren’t exactly a team when Thanos attacked.”

“There was some good that came out of that split, however,” Vision murmured, reaching across the back of the couch to grab his wife’s hand.

“What?” Billy asked, now sitting back up and becoming involved in the story’s continuation.

“Your mother and I ended up admitting our feelings for each other.”

“Ew, gross!” Tommy squirmed, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

“Hey,” Wanda retorted. “I’d like to remind the both of you that if your father and I hadn’t gotten together, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Billy giggled, though more at his brother’s very dramatic act of being disgusted at their parents. If anyone loved their parents being together more than he did, it was Tommy. “So, the Avengers broke up, but you and Mom still got to see each other?” the younger asked. “It’s like that story, Dad. You know the one where the families don’t like each other, but their kids do and they fall in love? You know that story, Dad?”

“Indeed I do,” Vision said, smiling at his son. “Romeo and Juliet, though I’m quite curious as to how you know it. I don’t remember us getting to Shakespeare yet.”

“Mark and Jeffy had a babysitter over one time,” Tommy responded. “And they were reading it for class. And -” He emphasised the word as he looked at his twin. “Both of those kids died at the end. Mom and Dad aren’t dead.”

The lighthearted moment seemed to dissipate at those words, Vision’s hand immediately going slack against Wanda’s own and the woman was sure that her husband’s face paled. Both twins picked up the change, though it was Tommy who turned to look up at his father.

“Right?”

Receiving no answer, Tommy sat up straighter. “Dad, you never answered my question.”

“What?” asked the synthezoid, somewhat startled from his own thoughts. “Yes, sorry. My apologies, Thomas, I…I was lost in thought for a moment. You were asking about Thanos.”

Tommy nodded. “You said the Avengers had broken up,” he began, looking at his father. “And that Thanos or whatever made like half the world disappear, but why couldn’t you guys stop him? From doing that I mean.”

“We tried, Thomas,” Vision replied, solemnly. “Thanos needed the power of six specific items to achieve what he did. I asked your mother to do…an extremely hard task and she did it, even when she knew it would hurt us both. Unfortunately, Thanos had enough power to undo that task, as though it had never happened, and that was how he was able to make half the population vanish.

“It was only later, much later, that the other Avengers were able to reverse what Thanos did. They were able to bring back those people who had been ‘snapped away’ as they call it, including your mother and many of our friends.”

“And…you too, right, Dad?” the elder asked, his voice small and showing his true age.

Wanda was sure her husband would put a stop to the conversation; this was hitting too close to his own traumatic experience and they had never addressed Vision’s non-human appearance. Again, the synthezoid halted his wife’s protest and smiled kindly at her concern.

“I’m afraid not, son,” he admitted. “That first time, when we fought Thanos, the team lost and we weren’t able to stop him, as you’ve recently learned. And unfortunately, the team was only able to reverse the effects of those that had disappeared. I was not one of them; during that first fight with Thanos…I died.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide, Vision allowing those words to sink into his eldest’s mind. But it was what he said next that truly shocked the young boy.

“And I suspect that’s something your brother has been aware of for some time.”

Tommy whipped his head around, the surprise on his face only growing when he noted that Billy didn’t seem at that shocked at the reveal. In fact, he looked a little guilty, though whether it was because of what he knew or the fact he hadn’t told his brother or mother. He gave a sheepish shrug.

“He feels…different,” he whispered. “I mean, he’s still Dad, but…ugh! I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like…like if he grew a beard. He’s still him, but…just different.”

“You’re saying he’s like zombie or something?”

“What? No!”

“Dad, are you a zombie?”

“I never said he was a zombie, Tommy,” Billy whined. “I just said he was different! Haven’t you even noticed his little gem is gone?” The boy pointed at the center of the synthezoid’s forehead.

“What?” the elder asked, incredulously. He looked at Vision, and then did a double take when he actually did notice that the ‘little gem’ in question was, not exactly gone, but definitely replaced by something else. “Oh! Oh. Okay, yeah that’s new, but…” The boy shrugged.

“Your father is still your father,” Wanda interrupted. “And we’ve gone well over your bedtime.”

At that, both boys groaned. “But you haven’t finished telling us everything!” Tommy whined.

“Tomorrow is another day,” Vision said, shooing the boy off the couch. “Go on, spit spot.”

The whining and grumbling kept on, but the boys still got off the couch and began stumbling their way upstairs to put their pajamas on, brush their teeth, and hop into bed. Billy was the straggler, walking a few ahead before turning back around and hugging Vision around the neck.

“’M sorry I called you different,” he said, pulling back to look at the red face of his father. “You’re still my dad and my favorite dad at that.”

Vision returned the boy’s smile, saying, “Thank you, Billy.”

The boy’s smile grew as he placed his hands on his father’s cheeks and pushed his features inward. “And I can squish your face,” he said, happily, laughing at the way Vision made a gruff huff between his smooshed lips.

“Upstairs,” he grunted, giving the boy a playful swat against his bottom. The boy was still chuckling as he joined his brother upstairs, their footsteps being heard as they ran around to beat each other to the bathroom and whatever else the two boys were getting up to. Wanda stood, taking a few steps into the foyer and looking up the stairs, Vision joining her just a short time later.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he said, wrapping an around her shoulders. “I don’t know if we’ve done more harm than good, but I believe telling them the truth was important. They shouldn’t have to hear things about us and have it not come from us.”

Wanda took a deep breath. “Agreed.”

Twenty minutes later, both twins were nestled in their beds, kisses to foreheads and sayings of ‘I love you’ passed between parent and child. The adults made their way to their own room, themselves getting into their own night clothes and putting themselves into bed. Wanda was just about to turn out the light when a shy Billy poked his head around the open doorway.

“Hey Billy Bear,” she greeted. “You alright?”

The boy took that as permission to enter, carefully making his way to the side of the bed and fidgeting nervously. “I didn’t like being in the book,” he whispered, his small hands playing with the spread. “It was always dark, at least until some of the people came in, and it was always so loud and it made my head hurt.”

It was a strange confession, but the boy seemed adamant on making it. Perhaps his earlier guilt about not asking his questions before or maybe it was the openness that both his parents had shown, either way Billy felt it was only fair to tell them about his feelings of late.

“That was it,” he finished, though he shifted back and forth with a small amount of unease.

“Aw, anđeo” Wanda cooed, sitting up slightly. She patted the other side of the bed, Vision scooting over slightly in order to accommodate the additional body. Billy did not hesitate to jump in the space that had been made for him, snuggling under the covers, and accepting the kiss his father dropped on his head and the cuddle he got from his mother.

Again, Wanda went to turn out the light and again, she was interrupted by one of her sons.

“Mom? Dad?” came the call from door the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Yes?”

“You guys in bed?”

“Yes, Tommy,” Wanda shouted back. “Why?”

“Just checking!” came the loud response. That seemed to be the end until, “Billy? Billy!”

“What?”

“Are you in there with Mom and Dad?”

“Yeah!”

Wanda held the sigh that threatened to be released. She couldn’t help but be reminded of her walk down memory lane with Agnes while they had still been in Westview, the memory of the night of the bombing when her parents had been killed. The elder witch had complained, loudly and numerously, about Pietro’s tendency to shout everything and not for the first time, the woman was reminded how much her eldest son seemed to have inherited some of her brother’s characteristics.

Not a moment after Billy had answered his brother’s question, said twin was rushing into the bedroom, a near blur until he was physically in bed with the others, his place behind Wanda with his back to the door. “Oh good,” he said. “You’re all here.”

“Yeah, we told you that,” Billy huffed. “Also, you know Mom and I are telepathetic, right?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes. “Your point?”

“Maybe we don’t need to shout down the hallway,” Wanda said, looking over her shoulder.

“I was making sure you were okay,” the boy insisted. Like his brother, he snuggled down under the covers, his arm hugging his mother as he burrowed against her back. “I like having verbal confirmation, thank you.”

Admittedly, Wanda knew she and Vision should have addressed this, but the situation itself was just so funny, she couldn’t help but laugh about it. “You are so your father’s son,” she said, causing Vision to raise an eyebrow. She smirked at him, this time the wave of her hand turned the lights out and the family began to drift into their dreams.

We should take the boys to the compound, came the thought. Wanda smiled, knowing her husband could clearly see it in the dark.

Yeah, she responded. We should. Bucky said there’s some sort of exhibit on the lower level, for any tourists that come in. Said we’d find it interesting.

Next time we go up there, we’ll bring the boys.

That was the last thought that passed by as Wanda and the boys slipped into slumber. Vision watched and listened, keeping his ear on his family and any disturbance outside. He wasn’t sure when ‘next time’ would occur, but he knew there were many things he planned to do with his family and he couldn’t wait to enjoy the second life he’d been given.

There would always be this unsettled feeling between the four of them, their shared traumatic experiences would never truly go away, but they were together and like they had done before, they would face this and they would face it together.

Because family was forever.