We moved to the couch.
I sat down. Wanda climbed into my lap.
She sat sideways, her legs draped over the armrest, her head tucked into my neck.
I wrapped my arms around her automatically.
"You are a cat," I whispered into her hair. "A demanding cat."
"Purr," she deadpanned.
I laughed, rubbing her back in soothing strokes. "Okay, kitty. Go to sleep."
She sighed, relaxing completely against me. "You are comfortable, Aryan. You make a good chair."
"I aim to please," I said, resting my chin on her head. "But don't scratch the upholstery."
[Perspective: Wanda Maximoff]
She could have stayed there forever. In his lap. In the sun.
But she had a mission.
She sat up, poking Aryan in the chest.
"Up," she commanded.
Aryan blinked, looking like he was about to fall asleep himself. "What? Why? The chair is occupied."
"The closet," she reminded him. "The Great Migration. We have clothes to move."
He groaned, letting his head fall back against the cushion. "Can't you just... manifest them there? Teleport them?"
"No," she said, grabbing his hands and pulling. "We do it the human way. It builds character."
"I have enough character," he grumbled, but he let her pull him up.
They went upstairs to her room… the Wanda Wing.
It looked... temporary now. Her suitcase was open on the floor. Her clothes were half hung.
"Okay," Aryan said, surveying the room. "Strategy. Grab everything. Run across the hall. Dump it."
"No," Wanda said. "We organize."
She walked to the closet. She pulled out a stack of hangers holding her sweaters.
"Here," she said, handing them to him. "Carry these."
He took them. "Heavy wool. Nice."
He walked them to his room. She followed with a stack of jeans.
They went back and forth.
"Wait," Wanda said, stopping by the bed. She picked up the pillow. The pillow.
She hugged it to her chest.
"This one comes," she said.
"Obviously," Aryan said, carrying a box of her books. "It's practically attached to your head."
She picked up the blanket too… the soft grey throw she liked.
They entered his room.
Aryan opened the closet doors wide. He had cleared one side, pushing his clothes to the left.
"This is your territory," he said, gesturing to the empty rail. "Prime real estate."
Wanda walked up to the closet. She hung her sweaters next to his flannels.
The fabrics touched. Her cream knit brushed against his forest green plaid.
She ran her hand over them.
"They look good together," she whispered.
Aryan came up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"They do," he agreed.
She turned in his arms. They were standing in the closet, surrounded by the smell of their combined lives.
"Thank you," she said. "For making space."
"There was always space," he said softly. "I was just waiting for you to fill it."
She kissed him. A sweet kiss that tasted of carbonara and gratitude.
"Now," she said, pulling back. "The shoes."
"Oh god," he groaned. "Not the shoes."
[Perspective: Aryan Spencer]
By 3:00 PM, the migration was complete. My room now looked lived in. Her perfume bottles were on the dresser. Her books were on the nightstand. Her clothes filled half the closet.
I looked at Wanda. She was sitting on the floor, folding the last of her socks. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were drooping.
"Okay," I said. "Time out."
I walked over and scooped her up.
"Again?" she laughed weakly. "I have legs, Aryan."
"They're tired legs," I said. "I can feel the fatigue radiating off you."
I carried her to the bed (our bed) and laid her down. I pulled the duvet up over her.
"Nap time," I declared. "Doctor's orders."
"But it is afternoon," she protested, trying to sit up. "I am energetic. I can..."
"You can sleep," I pushed her gently back down. "Close your eyes. Five minutes. If you're not asleep in five minutes, you can get up and reorganize the spice rack again."
"I am not tired," she mumbled, her eyes already fluttering shut.
"Liar," I whispered, kissing her forehead.
"What about you?" she asked, grabbing my hand. "Are you staying?"
"I have to go out," I said.
Her eyes snapped open. "Out?"
"Shopping," I said. "Round three. We ate all the meat. And we need more coffee. And... I saw a bakery that might have croissants."
"I will come," she said, trying to throw off the covers.
"No," I stopped her. "You are resting. I will be gone for... forty minutes. Max. I'm just hitting the market."
"Forty minutes?" she asked suspiciously.
"In and out," I promised. "Ninja shopping."
"A minute or an hour?" she asked, referencing our joke.
"Just minutes," I smiled. "You close your eyes, count sheep and I'll be back with pastries before you reach a hundred."
She looked at me. She squeezed my hand.
"Okay," she relented. "But bring the chocolate ones."
"Obviously."
I kissed her her lips. A deep kiss to keep her grounded.
"Sleep," I ordered.
"Go," she murmured.
I walked out of the room, closing the door softly until it clicked.
I stood in the hallway for a second. The smile dropped from my face.
I got into my car. I backed out of the garage.
I drove toward the town center, keeping up the appearance of a grocery run.
But my mind was expanding.
I felt it. An itch in the back of my skull. A disturbance in the energy field that I had carefully curated around this timeline.
S.W.O.R.D.
Tyler Hayward and his little band of militarized scientists. They had Vision's body. The original body.
And right now, about five hundred miles away in a hidden facility, they were doing something stupid.
I parked the car in the supermarket lot. I sat there, gripping the steering wheel.
I closed my eyes. I extended my senses. Past Westview. Past New Jersey.
I found them.
A sterile lab. White walls. Too many screens.
And in the center, on a table... Him.
PS: Hi guys, I'd like to inform you that we have officially completed the WandaVision arc in "Marvel: Reality Bender and the Scarlet Witch" at chapter 92. For the next major arc, I'd love your participation if possible. I've created a poll on my Patreon page right in front of you, so you can vote for what you'd like to see next from the three options. If you have any better suggestions, feel free to drop them in the comments. I do listen to my readers, so don't worry about that, haha.