I Thought You Were Different: Part 3

Wong

When Steve pulled the truck up to the curb at 177A Bleecker Street, he reluctantly shifted it into park and let out his held breath at the sight of the large, ornate building that would be his children's home for the next year or more. When the trio were born, he had gone through the thoughts of sending them off to school for the first time, high school dances, moving into college dorms, and so many other things that he actually was looking forward to sharing with them; in none of those thoughts were the idea that they would be apart from him so long at such a young age, and certainly not to learn mastery of powers that he had yet to understand. All he understood right now was that his children were getting stronger, and this was the best way to keep them and everyone around them safe.

"Alright," he sighed, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze, "we're here."

"Wow," Brooklyn gasped from her window, "I didn't think it would be so dark. I always think of magic as so bright and colorful."

"You're thinking of cartoons and comics," Grant scoffed, "and this is the real deal, sis. Not all magic is good."

"Magic doesn't have to be good and bad, or light and dark," Anthony added, grabbing his bag to jump out of the truck, "it's about how you use it, not the magic itself. Besides, I'm not interested in the magic so much as how to use the powers that I already have."

"Well I want to learn magic," Brooklyn argued, joining him on the sidewalk. "Aunt Wanda gave me a good start, but I'm ready for more."

The three children now stood together, bags in hand, staring up at the building with eyes wide and ready to begin their adventure. The door in front of them opened slowly, and rather than a greeting from the Doctor as they had expected, they were met by an older Asian man with a stern expression, his hands folded in front of him and saying nothing.

"Hello," Anthony offered, taking a step forward with an extended hand, "I'm Anthony. This is my brother Grant and my sister Brooklyn."

You and Steve had joined the kids and stood behind them, doing as you had promised to keep quiet and let them take the lead; they insisted that if this was their journey to take, they wanted to guide it as much as they were allowed to.

"Welcome, Rogers children. I'm Wong."

"Wong? Just Wong?" Grant asked politely, though with a slight smirk. "Like Madonna? Prince? Zendaya?"

"Just Wong," he replied flatly, glancing to you and Steve as you barely stifled your laughter to maintain your composure. "Come in, your rooms await you." He took a step aside and held his hand out to allow the kids to pass through the door, but when you and Steve reached the steps, his other hand came out to bring you to a halt. "I'm sorry, but only the children are allowed inside."

"Oh, okay," you answered quietly, feeling a sudden pain wash over you in the realization that you were actually being separated now; the moment had come, and the idea that you thought you were ready for it became a joke that you didn't find funny at all. "Could we say goodbye before they forget we exist?" You peered past Wong and into the building, only to find that your three were completely enamored in their new home and hadn't even realized that you were no longer behind them.

"My sincere apologies, Ma'am, I thought you had already done that. Children," Wong called out to them harshly, "it's disrespectful to walk away from your parents so easily, when you will not be seeing them again for several months. Come and say your goodbye's properly."

"Yes, Master Wong," Anthony hurried out in front to agree, rushing to the door again and down the steps to smash into you with a hug that knocked the wind from your chest. "Thank you, Mom," he whispered against you, "thank you for letting us do this. I'm going to miss you so much."