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“Where are my children?”
Agatha couldn't help but laugh at that statement coming from the pesky little witch. “Now I’m tempted to make a crack about that temperamental accent of yours, my dear but I’ll hold off on that.”
“Where are my children?” Wanda repeated and tried to accentuate her words with what Agatha knew the self-absorbed witch thought was going to be a powerful display of her magic.
Agatha didn’t do anything, she didn’t need to. She just stood in her makeshift wonderland, the only sanctuary she was able to claim in this madhouse of a town, she just stood there in plain sight and did nothing. And most importantly, she let the self-styled Witch, the stain in the name of Witches everywhere, see that she did not do anything.
Her magic frazzled out, having been nullified the moment she entered a domain that was Agatha’s. Westview might have been Wanda’s playground to do as she wished but this one corner of it was hers and hers alone and she was not going to let her have a foot in there.
“Oh, your magic is no good here.” She informed the little witch and flexed her fingers a little. Her grunts and groans were music to Agatha’s ears, especially considering how much she had seen the residents of Westview suffer under Wanda.
She just let Wanda stew there for a while. For a Witch, she was relatively young and relatively inexperienced. Why even the most inexperienced witches knew the fundamentals, knew how territorial a witch could get, knew to look for basic protection spells before entering another’s domain.
She conjured up a throne and sat on it regally, mostly for the theatrics but also because she was getting rather tired of this pesky little problem that was growing day by day. She thought she would be out of here in a week tops, but this little pest was just becoming more and more of a nuisance. She had figured out the source of the disturbance in the mystical energies of the Earth, but she had not figured out how Wanda was doing all this.
She raised up her head to look at the object of her thoughts and musings. The woman in question didn’t look like much, had the innocent girl look pasted on her face in perfection for any arrogant male to throw themselves at her to ‘protect her’. Agatha had no problems against that sort of tactics, of course, she had utilized them herself on so many occasions, especially in her youth. But she couldn’t deny that she was getting quite irritated with this one.
She briefly wondered if she should reveal something about witchcraft to gauge her reactions, the most basic fundamentals that any aspiring witch, hell anyone with even an ounce of talent of magic would know but promptly decided against it. Wanda did not look like she knew anything, she definitely was not a good witch if her public actions were anything to go by. After all, any decent magical user would be able to contain a bomb.
“What do you want from me?” Wanda asked after minutes of quietness. Agatha just looked at her, at least she had stopped squirming. That was getting a little annoying, to be honest.
“Oh darling, I don’t want anything from you.” And it was partially true, Wanda was powerful and Agatha once coveted that power but she also knew how dangerous that kind of power could be, how much it would consume from her.
“You’ve got me tied up here. Why?”
“Questions questions questions. Do you ever shut up?” Agatha drawled in a bored voice. “Whatever you may think little witch, I don’t owe you anything, least of all answers. Why give them to you when I can just watch you squirm with not knowing?”
The little menace tied up in her basement said nothing and just glared at her. That glare might’ve worked with others but Agatha was a centuries-old witch with experience that Wanda could only dream of having.
Agatha stood up from the eloquent chair and just walked towards Wanda, like a predator studying her prey. She loved making the little pesky witch squirm with just her look.
“Whatever you want from me…” And there was the fake sob and break in her voice. “Just please don’t hurt my kids. Please.” Wanda looked the perfect picture of a mother begging for her children, the perfect heroine of a tv show, trapped in the villain Agatha’s lair and begging, not for herself but for her lovely, cute-as-a-button kids.
Agatha was moved by the performance, she really was. Her slow clapping was not sarcastic at all. “Brava.” She cheered on, moving her body with her voice. “Such an amazing performance. That’ll win you an Emmy, a Golden Globe at the very least.”
Wanda glared at her through angry eyes and unshed tears, so much emotion and so much anger packed into that one look alone. “This isn’t a show. This is my LIFE. THOSE ARE MY KIDS.” She shouted, with all the anger in her voice. Agatha merely rolled her eyes.
“Interesting. Very very interesting.” Agatha remarked, and she was being genuine this time. It was interesting how she worded it, her life, her kids. Agatha slowly let her down from the center and guided her to stand right in front of her.
Wanda was still squirming and grunting but thankfully she didn’t say anything. Agatha didn’t know how much of that grating voice she could handle. A swipe of her hands and the bonds shifted, and slowly Wanda sat down on a comfortable grass stool. The bonds were still in place, she couldn’t move much but at least she was comfortable.
“Now, what kind of hostess I would be if I didn’t let you get comfortable while I begin my obviously villainous monologue.” She said flippantly as she seamlessly moved her throne right where she was standing. The stage was set, the actors perfectly situated and everything else accounted for.
If she was going to talk, which judging by Wanda’s responses seemed to be the case. If she was going to explain things, if she was going to monologue, she might as well look comfortable. “Your life? Your kids?” She started flippantly. “You only care about yourself. Not that I’m shocked or disapproving. After all, if a girl doesn’t look after herself, who else is going to look after her?” She shot Wanda a wink that just seemed to sour her look.
“I’m nothing like you.” Wanda declared in her most hero-like manner. Probably learned from the greatest and the most amazing Captain of all time, if Agatha had to take a guess.
“Oh no, darling, not what I was implying at all.” She replied while inspecting her nails. The purple looked good on her, but it did need more glitter. “You’re worse than me.” And snap back at her. Another perfect scene and dialogue delivered just brilliantly. Maybe she should take a gander at acting and Hollywood after this.
Wanda looked horrified. Agatha outright laughed at the gaping fish look that Wanda sported. “That’s- that’s not true. You killed Sparky.” Agatha rolled her eyes. As if that was supposed to prove anything.
“Do you know how you know that you’re the hidden villain of a great TV show?” She asked rhetorically and didn’t even wait for an answer. “When you care about one small, innocent dog more than you care about the thousands of people you’re hurt over the years and the thousands you’re hurting right now.”
And just like that, the gaping fish was back again. Wanda didn’t really have much more emotions and ways to express them, such a shame. After all, they were on a TV set.
“Oh, fishie fishie fishie.” Agatha laid back on her throne and regarded Wanda with sharp eyes. “Let’s go over the top with your infamous list, shall we?” One swipe and Wanda’s face was turned towards the side where a giant TV screen appeared magically.
Now, Agatha couldn’t claim to be as powerful as Wanda. She knew that outside her little sanctuary and into Westview, Wanda would be able to trounce her magically. That much raw power she could sense. But she could manage on her own, and she had done so for centuries.
The TV played, as Agatha had said, Wanda’s greatest hits. Sokovia, Johannesburg, Lagos, Germany, Westview. Agatha didn’t stop at just what Wanda had caused, she, like the good bad witch she was, went into more detail.
Gruesome images of victims, of people who had scratched their eyes out, killed themselves in horrifying ways because Wanda had commanded them to. Hundreds dead in Johannesburg because of the rampage she had sent Hulk to, fully knowing what a mind-addled rage monster in the middle of a populated city could and would do. The destruction of Sokovia, hundreds being trampled by debris. The fifteen dead at Lagos, people who only wanted peace blown apart because Wanda couldn’t control a bomb. Hah.
And of course, Westview deserved an entire paragraph of its own. What Wanda had done here rivaled and exceeded everything she had ever accomplished. People, with their faces set in mortification because of the sheer amount of pain they were feeling. Parents not being able to look at their kids, people separated from their loved ones, unknowingly and very much cruelly on Wanda’s part.
“When the camera’s off, everything’s a lot less glamorous isn’t it?” Agatha just said sadly, none of her flourishments present in that small statement. “This is what you’re doing here Wanda. This is not your perfect dream of suburban life with your husband, this is the pain and suffering that thousands in this town are feeling. Because. Of. You.”
Wanda shook her head. “No. No. NO.” The bonds shook a little but they maintained. Agatha was shocked and a little concerned but she had to do this, she had to stall Wanda for a bit more for the sorcerers to be able to work in peace and quiet. If her magic somehow failed, then she had other backup plans to ensure that Wanda remained here and remained busy.
“If you were a halfway decent person, you would acknowledge what you’re doing here,” Agatha said simply and tightened the bonds, making Wanda face her. “You would’ve stopped hurting all those people the moment you realized that, if that act of innocence you put up is even true. You would’ve stopped.”
“I’ve lost so much. I deserve a chance at happiness.” Wanda had the gall to say.
“Not at the expense of everybody else.” Agatha countered. “Not while thousands suffer for you to get your Happily Ever After.”
Wanda didn’t say anything, not that Agatha really expected her to. She continued. “And why is it only you that deserve happiness? Why does only your happiness matter? What about everyone else? Everyone goes through so much loss, so much pain. The only difference is that they don’t subjugate an entire town to get their happiness.”
Wanda squirmed under her gaze. “Please…” She whispered in the perfect whisper of a tortured heroine. “Please don’t hurt my kids. You can do anything you want to me.” And that was back. Well, it was more time Agatha had expected, Wanda listened for longer than Agatha had thought she would.
“Oh, darling Wanda,” Agatha replied, condescension dripping from her voice. “You’re forgetting one thing, this is not your show anymore, it’s mine. You don’t get to turn on the switch of poor, tortured mother who just wants her kids to be safe.” The catchy music of her song, her takeover in this fantasy land, played as she talked. “Agatha all along.” She finished with a wink.
“It’s catchy, isn’t it? Although I would need a new theme song, this one just signifies that I’m the one calling the shots now. I’m gonna need an entire new thing for the show of course.” She waved her hand in exaggeration. “But that’s a bit further. We’re talking about you now.”
“I just want to know if my children are okay.” Wanda sobbed, she freaking sobbed.
“Oh, poor Wanda. That might’ve worked on the good virtuous Captain Perfect and his spy henchgirl but guess what? They’re dead now.” She put her hand on her cheek in fake sympathy. “Oof so much grief. What are you going to do now? Take over the world because it’s so okay if you’re so very sad.”
That might’ve been a touch more mockery on her part Agatha realized as she watched Wanda get more furiouser and furiouser. More furious? Splitting in rage? Whatever, she had planned for this and the show was almost over now. They were so close to the ending.
Wanda broke through the binding, the sheer power of her magic, the raw magical power that she possessed breaking through Agatha’s carefully crafted spells and centuries of experience. No matter, Agatha had definitely prepared for this. You don’t get to be a witch of her caliber and her age and not expect the occasional setbacks.
She simply floated away in her majestic purple throne, just out of the boundary of the circle she had spent hours creating the other day and activated it, not that Wanda knew about it, of course, the poor thing had no idea what magic was even about.
Wanda stalked forwards, the rage in her face finally showing its true colors. She looked like the true villain Agatha knew her to be, every inch of one. Stalking towards poor Agatha in her home, looking like a predator coming towards her prey. She came to the edge of the runic circle and just stopped, the invisible wall of magic trapping her and her uncontrollable power within that one space.
“Oh, Wanda Wanda Wanda.” Agatha stepped out of the throne regally. “Did you really think it was going to be that easy? I’m an experienced Witch, my dear. You might have the power, but power doesn’t really matter when you don’t know how to use it. Unfortunately for you, I do know how to use my powers.”
“Let me out. Let me OUT!” Wanda screamed in rage.
“Why?” Agatha went right up to her face. “So you can hurt me? So you can torture me? So you can turn me into one of the residents of Westview? Oh! You probably would turn me into the nosy neighbor I was pretending to be and ride off into the sunset patting yourself in the back for a job well done.”
“I just want to see my kids,” Wanda screamed. “I just want to see Billy and Tommy.” She sobbed as she slid down the invisible wall, crying for her non-existent kids.
Agatha did not move from her spot. “Those are not their names. Those are not your kids.” Her voice was controlled but she was angry, she was very very angry. She might’ve been a power-hungry witch only concerned about herself but she never hurt children.
Wanda looked at her through tear-filled eyes and Agatha found herself getting angrier and angrier. She waved her hands in an intricate pattern and muttered a familiar spell. The vision of a perfect reunion showed where Agatha had shown Wanda her crimes before. The parents crying as they saw their twin sons after so long, that they got to hold them, that they got to hug them.
“Brian and Andrew. That’s who they were before you took them and twisted them. You hurt children Wanda, and for that, you will never be forgiven.” Wanda had the gall to look away. “Look at them, look at the family you separated. Look at how much pain you put them through. LOOK AT THEM.” But Wanda didn’t.
Fortunately, both for Wanda and to some extent for Agatha herself, the mystical sorcerers she had chosen to align herself with arrived to inform her that everything was done. Leading them was of course, the ever so good-looking Sorcerer Supreme.
Agatha clasped her hands in merriment at their entrance and with a “Oh, Stephen!” went to hug the man, mostly because she knew how much he would hate it.
After one solid minute of hugging, the most powerful Sorcerer on Earth cleared his throat. “Ms. Harkness.” He simply said. Agatha smiled and let him go.
“There’s your witch.” She simply said. “A bit more powerful than anticipated but not surprising. Hardly any experience with those powers, it was fairly easy.”
The other disciples? acolytes? Agatha didn’t know what they called themselves and she didn’t care to find out. Strange's underlings took to the task of actually capturing Wanda and transporting her to wherever to do whatever they were going to do to her. They were sensibly equipped with magic nullifying restraints and were possibly good at magic themselves if she had to venture a guess.
“With the infinity stones disappearing, it’s no surprise that her powers grew.” Agatha gave the deliciously aging Sorcerer her full attention. That made sense, considering the fact that it was the Mind Stone that awakened her powers in the first place. “We might be able to do something about this, now that you’ve successfully captured her.”
“Wasn’t that hard really,” Agatha replied, tracing those gorgeous cheekbones of his with a nail. The sorcerer was getting annoyed at her antics, she could tell, but that was the point. “But mostly it was the fact that you offered me that once-in-a-lifetime deal.” She dropped her hand, surveying his reaction.
“You were willing to give up the Darkhold. Without it, you’re not that dangerous.”
“That hurts my feelings, Dr. Strange.” Agatha placed a hand on her heart and made a show of things. “Never tell a centuries-old witch that she’s not dangerous.”
Strange simply smiled politely at her and didn’t say anything. Once his minions had taken ahold of Wanda and everything was done and presumably, the entire neighbourhood was curse-free and within their own minds, not that Agatha cared, of course. Point is after everything was done for and it was awkward goodbye time, the Sorcerer Supreme turned to her for the awkward goodbye.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Agatha called it, it was awkward goodbyes.
“I was thinking of the 20s aesthetic. Flapper dresses, murder mysteries, the works.” Agatha hastily added to his incredulous look. “Not that I’m killing anybody, just grand parties.”
He nodded incredulously. “Of course Ms. Harkness.” God, he was so firm and polite.
“Toodles then, Supreme Strange.” She said just for the thrill of it as she made her grand exit. Now that this was over, that she had that annoying book and the thirst of power that came with it gone forever, it was time to live her life to the fullest. And she would do exactly that.