Wanda Maximoff was many things: a twin, a sister, a girl with many undiscovered powers at her fingertips.
But never call her an Avenger. They are to blame for her brother's death in their home of Sokovia.
Having refused to stay in Avenger care, Wand...
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Helena's legs screamed, and her feet ached. But she trudged on. She wanted to put as much distance from Wanda Maximoff as possible. She considered going to the Avengers, though when she thought about it more, that was a terrible idea. It'd put her in the crossfire, one day. Besides, what could the Avengers do with her? Detain her? Lock her away somewhere so she couldn't kill again, intentionally or on accident?
Not that she ever killed intentionally. There were plenty of deaths on her hands by mistake.
The sun was lowering itself to bed in New York. Helena's stomach growled, and her bladder was starting to whine. She found the closest food joint and slipped inside. The hostess had her seated at a booth. As soon as her waiter came and she ordered her drink, she made a run for the bathroom, careful to not touch anyone in her mad dash.
As Helena left the stall to wash her hands, she took a look at herself in the mirror. How could she be good company when a touch from her caused illness and inevitable death?
When Helena returned to her booth, she bristled. Waiting on the opposite end of the table was Wanda Maximoff. She looked apologetic, but Helena wasn't buying into it.
"What are you doing here?" Helena snarled.
"Please, sit."
"I'll go somewhere else."
Wanda's eyes flashed red. "I insist."
"Is that a threat, Maximoff?"
The witch sighed, her eye color going back to normal. "Helena, please. Let me say my piece, and then you decide whether or not you want me around anymore."
Conceding, Helena sat herself. She stirred her Coke around with her straw. "Start talking."
Wanda put her hands together on the table. "I'm sorry. All I intended to do was to show you perspective. Remember when I said we're both learning our abilities? I'm still learning to harness mine. It got away from me. I...I never intended for it to happen."
Helena scoffed. "And I'm supposed to believe you're sincere?"
"I didn't want to do that to you. If you can't dig into my mind, I should pay you the respect of not digging through yours. My magic can be temperamental and sometimes develop a mind of its own. Sometimes it gets very curious and can't help itself."
"Your magic is part of you. Therefore, you were curious and couldn't help yourself." Helena tapped her fingers against the wooden surface. "You know what they say about cats, Wanda."
"I do." The witch sat back in her booth. "But I'm not easy to kill."
"You wanna test that?"
"Is that a threat?" Again, the witch's eyes flashed red.
On cue, the waiter came back with Wanda's drink, a Sprite.
