Jon gave a small, understanding nod. He knew this was the crucial moment. Her inability to read him was both a barrier to trust and a demonstration of his unique capabilities. He needed to bridge that gap. "Because my mind is protected," he explained, his voice calm, "with magic. It's a different kind of power than what you've encountered, or even what you're using yourself." He watched their reactions carefully.
Both Wanda and Pietro stared at him, a shocked, almost bewildered look on their faces. Pietro actually took a step back. "Magic?" Pietro scoffed, a nervous laugh escaping him. "There's no such thing. It's... it's science. Experiments. That's what they told us." The denial was almost reflexive, a desperate clinging to the only framework they'd ever known for their abilities.
Jon's expression softened, a hint of genuine sadness in his eyes. He saw their confusion, their ingrained beliefs crumbling. "Wanda, all that power you have. The way you can move things with your mind, twist thoughts, even just now, when you tried to reach into mine. That's not science, not in the way they told you. That's magic. Raw, powerful, untapped magic." He paused, letting the word 'magic' hang in the air, allowing it to sink in. "Those experiments they put you through? They didn't give you powers. They just... opened something up. Activated what was already inside you. It's why you feel so connected to it, why it feels like a part of you. Because it is."
Jon sensed their turmoil, the desperate need for something solid to grasp onto amidst this new, dizzying truth. He lowered his hands, and with a gentle, shimmering wave of golden energy, a small, steaming plate of freshly baked bread, warm cheese, and a couple of ripe apples appeared on a nearby rock. Next to it, two steaming mugs of sweet, fragrant tea. The golden light pulsed, then faded, leaving the mundane objects sitting impossibly on the cold stone.
Wanda and Pietro stared, first at the food, then back at Jon, their eyes wide. A plate of warm bread and cheese, steaming tea, it just appeared. Pietro's jaw actually dropped, and he blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. "Did... did you just pull that out of thin air?" he mumbled, his brain just kept screaming impossible. He even poked the bread with a tentative finger, as if expecting it to vanish. It's just a trick. It has to be. My powers are science. They told me. Right?
Wanda, meanwhile, felt a different kind of shock, deeper and more profound. Her striking green eyes were fixed on the faint, golden shimmer that had faded from Jon's hands. It wasn't technology. It wasn't an illusion. It felt... real. Like my own power, but different. Controlled. Effortless. A dawning, almost terrifying realization began to bloom in her mind, pushing aside the ingrained scientific explanations Hydra had fed them. Magic. He called it magic. Could it be? Could everything they told us about our powers, about science, be wrong? The comforting aroma of the food, the sheer impossibility of its sudden presence, cut through their exhaustion and lingering suspicion in a way words never could. They were battered, disillusioned, and utterly exhausted. Their quest for revenge had led them to a horrifying truth, leaving them with an aching void. They had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, just each other, constantly running, constantly fighting. Jon's proposal, stripped of grand promises, offered something far more fundamental: safety, a home, and the chance to simply stop surviving and start living.
Wanda looked at Pietro, a silent, desperate conversation passing between them. Her striking green eyes, usually so fierce, were clouded with weariness. What does he want from us? Is this just another way to control us? Another cage, just a different kind? A tremor of fear ran through her, the idea of being manipulated again, even for safety, was a bitter pill. Yet, the warmth from the steaming tea, the scent of fresh bread, spoke to a deeper, more primal need. I'm so tired, Pietro. So tired of running. So tired of fighting. Just to rest... to not worry... A profound longing for peace, for a moment of true calm, washed over her, an almost physical ache.
Pietro, seeing the raw vulnerability and exhaustion in his sister's gaze, nodded slowly, a weary acceptance settling over him. His own thoughts were a whirlwind of suspicion and a desperate, aching need for respite. What's his angle? No one does this for free. He's got a motive. His protective instincts screamed at him to grab Wanda and run, to disappear into the blur of his speed. But then he looked at her, truly looked at the deep lines of fatigue around her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped, the sheer, utter exhaustion that permeated her very being. We have nothing left. Nowhere to go. This... this is our only chance. Even if he's playing a game, what choice do we have? A wave of profound weariness washed over him. Just one night of sleep without listening for footsteps. Just one meal that isn't scavenged. Just to stop running. Just to breathe. They didn't have much of a choice, not really.
With a silent, almost invisible move, Jon opened a portal. It wasn't the crazy, broken kind from the Mirror Dimension, but a steady, shimmering circle of golden sparks that led straight into the living room of his new villa in New York. "Come on," he said, his voice gentle, seeing them hesitate. "Let's get you somewhere warm."
Wanda and Pietro looked at each other, then, with a shared, tired sigh, stepped through. The portal closed behind them with a soft shimmer.
The villa was a modern, big house tucked away among some tall, old trees on the edge of upstate New York. It wasn't super fancy, but it felt quietly luxurious. Big windows looked out onto a private, wooded area, far from the city noise. Inside, the rooms were huge, with comfy, modern furniture in soft colors. You couldn't see his magic defenses right away, but you could feel a subtle hum of high-tech stuff, the quiet whir of hidden cameras, the faint pulse of motion sensors, all smoothly built into the smart home system. It felt safe, but surprisingly welcoming.
"Bathroom's through there," Jon pointed to a hallway, "and there are fresh clothes in the closets in those two rooms," he pointed to two doors. "Make yourselves at home. Seriously. No one's watching, no one's coming for you here. Just... rest. You've earned it." He left them with a quiet nod, giving them space. They need time to chill out, to process everything. Pushing them now would just make things worse. He went back to his own study, leaving them the whole side of the house.
Hours later, as the sky turned orange and purple at sunset, Jon pulled out his phone. He walked to a quiet corner of the villa, a small, soundproofed room he'd set up for private calls. He tapped a contact.
"Ghostwire," Jon said, his voice clear. "It's Jon. Got a new job for you."
"Jon?" Ghostwire's voice came through.
Jon showing a faint smile on his face. "Two new identities. Brother and sister. In their mid-twenties. From Eastern Europe, specifically Sokovia. They're... complicated. Think refugee situation, maybe orphaned by some smaller conflict in the area. Something that makes sense for them arriving in the US. No official ties to any government, no military stuff. A totally clean slate, but with enough of a story to pass a basic background check, good enough for everyday life, social security numbers, driver's licenses, bank accounts. I need them to be completely untraceable to their past, but totally traceable in their new lives."
There was a moment of silence on Ghostwire's end. "Sokovian refugees, huh? That's... a specific kind of job. And you want it really clean, not just 'looks good on paper' clean."
"Exactly," Jon confirmed. "No shortcuts. This needs to be perfect for regular agencies. And quick. Within the next few weeks, if you can."
"Perfect for regular agencies, untraceable to the past, and quick. You don't ask for much, do you, Jon?" Ghostwire chuckled, a low, electronic sound. "Alright. Send me their basic info. Pictures, height, eye color, whatever you've got. I'll get started. This is gonna cost you, though. More than the last one."
"Consider it done," Jon said, "Money will be in your account within the hour." He hung up, feeling a sense of relief. One less thing to worry about.
Later that night, long after the house was quiet, Jon found himself drawn to the big window in the living room. The city lights were a faint glow far away, but here, the sky was dark and full of countless stars. He saw someone outside, near the edge of the property where the trees started. It was Wanda. She stood still, looking up at the sky, her shape clear against the faint starlight.
Jon moved quietly, slipping out the back door and walking across the cool grass. He stopped a few feet behind her, standing like she was, just listening to the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant sound of crickets. He didn't speak, just felt the quiet peace of the night and the unspoken weight of her presence.
After a long moment, Wanda broke the silence, her voice soft, almost a whisper, carried on the cool night air. "Thank you," she said, not turning, her gaze still fixed on the stars. Her voice was calm, steady, a huge change from how upset she'd been earlier. It was clear she'd done a lot of thinking, a lot of processing. "For... for everything. For the truth. For this." She vaguely waved her hand at the peaceful surroundings. "It's... quiet here. Different." A faint, almost invisible shift in her aura, like something settling inside her. It wasn't peace yet, but it was a step away from the crazy storm of revenge. She seemed to see things differently now, a tired acceptance mixed with a fragile hope.
"Hey," Jon said softly, stepping closer, his voice gentle. "You should probably get some sleep. We can chat more tomorrow about... well, everything. Your new life here."
Wanda nodded, a small, tired smile gracing her lips. Pietro, who seemed to appear from nowhere beside her, gave a quick nod too. They headed inside, their footsteps quiet on the polished floors, each lost in their own thoughts.
Jon watched them go, a genuine sense of relief washing over him. Finally. Things are actually moving. He stretched, a deep, satisfying sigh escaping him. He could finally relax a little, knowing they were safe, knowing he'd set things in motion. Maybe I can even enjoy this whole 'being a rich sorcerer' thing for a bit, he mused, a small, tired grin playing on his lips.
The next morning, the villa was bathed in soft sunlight. Jon found Wanda and Pietro in the spacious kitchen, looking a bit more rested, if still a little wary. He'd laid out a simple breakfast, fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee.
"Morning, guys," Jon said, pulling up a chair. "Sleep okay?"
Wanda gave a small nod. Pietro just grunted, already halfway through a croissant.
"Alright," Jon began, pouring himself some coffee. "So, about your new identities. I've got someone working on it. They're gonna whip up some super clean papers for you two. You'll be totally untraceable to Sokovia, but perfectly legit here in the US. New names, new backstory, everything. Once that's done, you're free. Seriously. You can do whatever you want." He took a sip of coffee, watching them. "But Pietro," he continued, turning to the speedster, "I was thinking, if you're up for it, I could really use your help with my company. It's an investment firm. Nothing shady, just smart money moves. And I'd pay you really well, enough to not worry about money"
Pietro paused, a pastry halfway to his mouth. "Work? What would I even do? Run errands?" he asked, a hint of his usual sarcasm returning.
Jon chuckled. "Nah, man. Think bigger. My company's about finding opportunities, moving fast. Your speed? It's literally a game-changer. delivering sensitive documents, even just optimizing logistics for our operations. You could be my eyes and ears, my rapid response unit. You'd be invaluable. And the pay would be well enough. Like, seriously good pay."
Pietro's eyes lit up, a quick grin flashing across his face. "Seriously?" He swallowed his croissant. "Count me in, Jon. Running around for money sounds way better than running from bad guys."
Jon smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him. "Awesome. Glad to have you, Pietro." He then turned to Wanda, his expression softening. He'd been watching her, subtly, throughout the morning. There was a quiet intensity about her, a vulnerability that drew him in. She's so much more than the 'Scarlet Witch' from the movies. So much more... human. And kinda captivating, honestly.
"Wanda," Jon said gently, "about your powers. What you have... it's not just 'mind tricks.' What you have, it's something ancient. It's called Chaos Magic." He stood up, gesturing slightly with his hands, letting a faint, controlled shimmer of golden energy appear. "Imagine... ancient witches, powerful sorcerers, bending reality itself. Not just moving objects, but twisting fate, creating things from nothing, seeing into minds, even changing what people believe is real."
As he spoke, Jon conjured fleeting illusions, shimmering like heat haze in the air before them. A spectral flower blooming in an instant, its petals unfurling in impossible colors. A shadowy, ancient figure, a witch from Kamar-Taj's forgotten history, her hands glowing with raw power, then dissolving into mist. A quick flash of a distorted cityscape, reality bending like clay. "It's raw power, Wanda. Like a storm without a funnel. Incredible potential, yes, but also incredibly dangerous if you can't control it. Not just for others, but for you. And trust me, there are people out there, who would kill to get their hands on that kind of power. They'd use you, exploit you, far worse than Hydra ever could, if they knew what you truly were."
He let the illusions fade, the air returning to normal. "So, you have a choice. You can try to figure it out on your own, which, no offense, could be disastrous. Or, I can teach you. Or, if you prefer, I know a place, a hidden sanctuary, where people like us learn to master these abilities. Kamar-Taj. It's intense, but it's safe." He gave her a moment, letting the weight of his words settle. "No pressure, just think about it. It's your power, your choice."
Wanda sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the spot where the illusions had vanished. Her mind was clearly reeling, processing this new, fantastical truth. Pietro, meanwhile, was already excitedly chatting about his new job, oblivious to the deeper conversation.
After a few minutes, Wanda looked up, her hazel eyes meeting Jon's. There was a newfound clarity in them, a quiet resolve replacing the earlier despair. "Jon," she said, her voice steady, "teach me."
A genuine smile spread across Jon's face. "Really? You're sure?" Yes! This is great! He felt a surge of warmth, a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper. He was just happy. This means more time with her. More time to understand her, beyond the movie plots. She's... captivating. More than I ever thought she'd be. I really want to get to know her, like, really know her. He found himself watching her, a subtle attraction pulling at him, a desire to know every facet of this complex woman. He nodded. "Alright, Wanda. I'd be happy to."
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