Trust | Wanda Maximoff

Chapter 30: Next Flight

An: Sorry guys I got hit by a car.. well a truck... but heres the next chapter. If none of this make sense... it's the oxy they put me on.

The car hummed softly as it cut through the stillness of the night, the dark road ahead illuminated only by the twin beams of the headlights. Kennedy's hands were steady on the wheel, her gaze fixed on the stretch of empty highway in front of them. She was calm, her posture relaxed, but there was a quiet intensity about her—a focus that Wanda couldn't look away from.

Wanda sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning back against the cushion, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her eyes fluttered closed every so often, but they always reopened, sneaking glances at Kennedy. She wasn't trying to stare, not really, but it was impossible not to.

Four years.

That's how long it had been since Wanda had seen her, really seen her. She let her eyes trace over Kennedy's profile, relearning the sharp angles of her face, the curve of her jawline, the way her lips pressed into a thin line as she concentrated on the road. Her hair was lighter now, the sun having kissed it with a honeyed hue.

Kennedy looked older, more mature. Wanda could see it—how the years had etched themselves into her in subtle ways, ways that only someone who truly knew her could recognize. And it struck Wanda, as she stared out at the road ahead but couldn't stop glancing sideways, just how much could change in four years. Not just in Kennedy, but in herself too.

She caught herself wondering what Kennedy saw when she looked at her. Did she see the same Wanda, or someone completely different? Did she see the cracks, the scars left by everything that had happened?

Kennedy's voice cut through the silence, low and steady. "You should try to sleep" she said, her tone casual but carrying a hint of concern. Her eyes stayed on the road, but there was a softness in her voice that made Wanda's chest tighten.

"I'm fine" Wanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper, though she didn't move to sit up straighter or try to convince Kennedy otherwise. She let the words hang there, her eyes stealing another glance at Kennedy, committing every detail to memory.

And Kennedy, as if sensing Wanda's gaze, let the corner of her mouth twitch into the faintest of smiles. "You're staring" she said lightly, her voice teasing but without accusation.

Wanda looked away quickly, heat rising to her cheeks as she muttered, "No, I'm not."

Kennedy's faint smile lingered as she kept her eyes on the road, her fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. She didn't press Wanda further, letting the moment settle into a familiar silence.

Wanda shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze drifting back to Kennedy's profile. The question had been burning in her chest for miles, and finally, she couldn't hold it back any longer. "Will things..." Wanda hesitated, her voice quiet but steady, "...ever not be awkward between us?" Her words were tinged with frustration, a vulnerability she couldn't entirely hide. "I don't like this. It's... strange, and I hate it."

Kennedy didn't respond right away. She kept her focus on the road, her expression unreadable as the car's headlights sliced through the darkness. After a beat, she let out a soft sigh, her voice calm but thoughtful. "I don't either" she admitted, her tone carrying a weight of its own. She glanced over at Wanda briefly, her eyes meeting hers for just a moment before returning to the road. "But I think... it's just going to take time."

Wanda's lips pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed. "It's just—" she started, but the words faltered, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "It feels like we're walking on eggshells around each other. And I hate that. I hate feeling like I don't know how to talk to you anymore."

"You think I don't feel the same?" Kennedy asked, glancing at Wanda again. Her tone was gentle, but there was a trace of vulnerability there. "I've spent the past four years thinking about what I'd say if I ever saw you again. And now that you're here... it's like I don't have the right words anymore."

Wanda sat quietly, the weight of Kennedy's words settling over her like a thick, suffocating blanket. Kennedy's voice still hung in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way that made Wanda's heart ache. For Kennedy, it had been years—years of silence, of absence, of living with the emptiness Wanda had left behind.

But for Wanda?

For Wanda, she'd had Kennedy only days ago. Days. In the Hex, Kennedy had been hers—fully, deeply, and unconditionally. The Kennedy there wasn't haunted by time or pain. She was whole. She had loved Wanda without question, had stood by her through their perfect, fabricated life. They had a home, a family, children who laughed and played in the warmth of the world Wanda had created.

It wasn't fair—not to Kennedy that Wanda wanted everything to return to normal. She knew that.

Kennedy pulled the car into a dimly lit gas station, the fluorescent lights casting a pale glow over the quiet lot. The engine rumbled to a stop, and without saying a word, she began searching the car. She opened the glove compartment, checked the side pockets, and finally started patting down the area under the seats.

Wanda watched her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What are you looking for?" she asked, tilting her head.

Kennedy didn't look up as she muttered, "Nat's stash."

Wanda's brow furrowed, her lips twitching in amusement despite herself. "You think she hides—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because Kennedy suddenly pulled out a wad of cash from beneath the driver's seat, holding it up triumphantly.

"Of course she has a stash" Kennedy said with a smirk, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She's a spy."

Wanda blinked, then let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as Kennedy peeled a few bills off the top and tucked the rest back under the seat. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that was there."

Kennedy stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind her. She walked a few steps toward the gas station before glancing back, realizing Wanda hadn't moved. With an exasperated sigh, Kennedy turned around, walked back to the car, and opened Wanda's door.

"Are you coming," Kennedy asked, her tone teasing but with a sharp edge of impatience, "or are you just going to sit there and make things more awkward?"

Caught off guard, Wanda bit her lip, suppressing a small laugh. She shook her head and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Okay" she muttered, stepping out of the car. "But this is your mess if Nat finds out you touched her stash."

Kennedy smirked, holding the door open as Wanda stepped out. "She'd be disappointed if I didn't" Kennedy quipped, leading the way toward the store.

As they walked toward the gas station, the silence between them was filled with unspoken words and hesitant glances. Wanda trailed just a step behind Kennedy, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, fidgeting nervously. Her mind raced with questions she didn't know how to ask, and her gaze flicked to Kennedy's hand swinging casually by her side. She wanted to reach out, but something held her back—a mix of fear and uncertainty.

Kennedy stepped forward and pulled open the heavy glass door of the gas station, holding it open for Wanda with a subtle tilt of her head. "After you" she said, her voice calm but laced with a faint edge of warmth.

Wanda hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside, her movements slow and uncertain. She offered Kennedy a faint smile of thanks, her eyes lingering just a beat too long before darting away. Kennedy followed behind her, the door swinging shut with a quiet thud.

As they moved into the fluorescent-lit store, Kennedy's gaze caught on Wanda's posture—the slight hunch of her shoulders, the way her hands twisted together nervously in front of her.

They walked side by side down one of the narrow aisles, Kennedy's shoe scuffing lightly against the linoleum floor. She glanced at Wanda from the corner of her eye, watching the way her fingers fiddled absentmindedly with the hem of her sweater.

Without thinking too much about it, Kennedy let her hand drop a little closer to her side, her fingers brushing lightly against Wanda's. It was fleeting, a gentle nudge, as if testing the waters. Her knuckles barely grazed Wanda's, but the touch was intentional enough to send a quiet message.

Wanda stilled for a fraction of a second, her breath hitching slightly at the contact. She glanced down at their hands, then up at Kennedy, her eyes wide and questioning. Kennedy didn't say anything, didn't even look directly at her, but the soft quirk of her lips was enough to tell Wanda it wasn't an accident.

Wanda hesitated for a moment, her fingers twitching slightly as if battling with her nerves. Then, quietly, tentatively, she reached out and slid her hand into Kennedy's. Their fingers intertwined slowly, deliberately, as if testing how the pieces fit together. Wanda's grip was light at first, uncertain, but Kennedy didn't pull away. Instead, she squeezed Wanda's hand gently in return.

Kennedy's eyes flicked toward the donut display inside the store, feigning sudden interest. "They better have Boston cream" she muttered, her tone deliberately casual as if the gesture wasn't a big deal. But the faint color on her cheeks betrayed her effort to play it cool.

Wanda barely registered the words. She was too focused on the warmth of Kennedy's hand in hers, the way it felt solid, grounding. She glanced up at Kennedy, searching her profile for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but Kennedy's expression stayed calm, her attention seemingly fixated on the rows of sugary pastries.

Wanda's lips curved into a small, shy smile, her chest tightening in a way that wasn't unpleasant. She looked at their joined hands, then at Kennedy, who was still pretending to examine the donuts with an intensity that seemed comically overdone.

"Kennedy" Wanda said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made Kennedy glance over, caught between a grin and a blush.

"What?" Kennedy replied, her tone still casual but her eyes betraying the faintest trace of vulnerability.

Wanda shook her head, her smile growing. "Nothing" she said, squeezing Kennedy's hand lightly as they moved deeper into the store together.

Kennedy gave a small, frustrated sigh when she spotted the lack of Boston cream donuts. "Figures" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head before her attention was diverted to the candy aisle. She tugged gently on Wanda's hand, leading her over.

Wanda gently tugged back on Kennedy's hand, stopping her mid-step. Kennedy turned, curiosity flickering in her gaze. Wanda's eyes glimmered with a faint red glow, just for a heartbeat, before returning to their usual hue. She gave a slight nod back toward the donut case, her lips quirking in a playful smile.

Kennedy frowned, tilting her head. "What—" She stopped short as her eyes fell on the donut case. A glazed donut had somehow transformed into a perfect Boston cream, its chocolate topping glossy under the store's fluorescent lights.

"No way" Kennedy whispered, her eyes darting between the case and Wanda. She hesitantly reached for the donut. Her hand paused mid-air, and she turned back to Wanda with an arched brow. "This is safe to eat, right?"

Wanda's smile widened, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Would I ever do anything to you?"

Kennedy huffed, eyeing the donut warily. "That's not an answer."

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and, before Kennedy could react, snatched the donut from her hand. Without hesitation, she took a bite, the rich chocolate and creamy filling oozing slightly as she chewed with an exaggerated expression of delight.

Kennedy gasped. "Hey! You don't even like Boston cream!"

Wanda let out a little giggle, quickly covering her mouth with her free hand. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she chewed, then swallowed with a satisfied hum. With an exaggerated flourish, she held the half-eaten donut back out to Kennedy.

"See? All safe" Wanda said, her lips twitching in amusement.

Kennedy narrowed her eyes, snatching the donut back with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, except now it's half gone" she grumbled, eyeing the bite mark suspiciously.

Wanda shrugged, her grin unapologetic. "Quality control."

Kennedy rolled her eyes, "Next time, maybe try conjuring your own donut."

Wanda tilted her head, her smile growing as she watched Kennedy inspect the donut with mock seriousness. "I forgot how pouty you get" she teased, folding her arms across her chest.

Kennedy's mouth dropped open in exaggerated offense. "Me?" she scoffed, pointing at herself. "You were the pouty one!"

Wanda gasped, feigning shock. "I was not!"

Kennedy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You were too!" she insisted.

Wanda rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. She took a step back, turning toward the candy aisle with a dramatic flair.

Kennedy huffed in mock indignation and immediately stomped after her, her footsteps heavy and exaggerated. As Kennedy stomped after Wanda, she suddenly heard her voice in her head, perfectly mimicking the teasing tone. "Point proven."

Kennedy froze mid-step, her eyes widening in realization. "That's not fair" she muttered, her cheeks flushing with a mix of annoyance and surprise.

Wanda turned around just in time to catch her reaction, a wicked little smirk playing on her lips. "What's not fair?" she asked, her voice full of mock innocence.

Kennedy huffed in response but couldn't help a grin breaking through. She turned her attention back to the candy aisle with a sigh, as though trying to ignore Wanda's incessant teasing. But she couldn't help casting a glance over her shoulder at Wanda, just to make sure she was still watching. "You're impossible" she muttered, though the smile she tried to suppress gave her away.

Wanda didn't miss the look, and her smirk only widened.

Kennedy's fingers brushed through the candy shelf, her eyes scanning for something that might satisfy their impromptu snack run. She picked up a KitKat bar, her lips twitching slightly at the thought. She knew Wanda loved these, even though Kennedy herself couldn't stand the wafer texture.

"Still your favorite, right?" Kennedy asked, holding the KitKat out to Wanda, her voice light but with an underlying softness. She didn't wait for Wanda's response, her eyes flicking to the next option on the shelf.

Wanda's smile widened as she took the candy from Kennedy's hand, her heart feeling a little lighter with each small gesture. "Yeah" she replied, her voice warm with a quiet appreciation. "You remember."

Kennedy's lips curved into a small, teasing smile as Wanda took the KitKat from her hand. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful tone. "Yeah, I remember" Kennedy said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I also remember the mess you made in my car."

Wanda, wanting to return the gesture, scanned the shelf for something she could grab. Her eyes landed on a Twix bar, and she pulled it off the shelf, smiling as she handed it to Kennedy. "Here" she said, holding it out to her.

But just as Kennedy reached for the Twix, she suddenly stiffened, her body going rigid for a moment. She quickly masked it, but Wanda caught the brief flicker of discomfort in her eyes.

Kennedy stood in front of the vending machine, her eyes fixed on the rows of snacks illuminated by the harsh, flickering lights. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd eaten anything, but the emptiness in her stomach wasn't the only thing weighing on her. It had been a month since Wanda was gone, a month since the world had felt a little colder, a little emptier. Kennedy didn't know how to deal with it. She was still trying to figure out how to fill the silence.

Her hand hovered over the buttons as she scanned the options. Kitkats. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the familiar candy, a wave of nostalgia and pain crashing over her. She let out a heavy sigh, remembering how Wanda would always go for the KitKat bar without fail, how she'd laugh when she inevitably made a mess of the chocolate in Kennedy's car. Kennedy didn't even want to touch that candy right now.

She pressed the button for a Twix bar. She needed a break from the endless paperwork. The hours had blended together in a haze of cold fluorescent lighting and the dull hum of the office. It was the same damn thing every day—just another pile of files from her father that she had to sift through. Files he should've been dealing with himself, but instead, he dumped them on her desk, a never-ending stream of meaningless tasks meant to keep her distracted.

As the vending machine slowly hummed and clunked out her Twix.

The details were a blur now, but what she remembered clearly was the slap. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. But that slap, that moment, was burned into her mind. The sting on her cheek. The way he'd grabbed her by the arm so tightly that she couldn't move, couldn't escape. She remembered how his fingers dug into her skin, how his voice had lowered into a cruel whisper as he ordered her to pick up the broken Twix bar from the floor.

"Pick it up. Don't make a mess" he'd growled at her, as if the candy were more important than the blood that was rushing to her cheek.

Kennedy had tried to hold back the tears, tried to swallow the suffocating panic, but it was no use. The memory of the way his hand had slammed the candy bar onto the ground, shattering the delicate chocolate and caramel, still lingered. She remembered the feeling of humiliation and helplessness, the way the Twix bar became the symbol of her father's control over her, his cruelty wrapped in a sugary, bite-sized package.

The sweetness of the chocolate—everything she had once loved about that candy had been tainted by the cruelty of that moment.

Kennedy froze, unsure of how to react. "I... I'm not really in the mood for that" she said, her voice coming out a bit strained.

Wanda noticed the hesitation and the subtle shift in Kennedy's demeanor. Her brows furrowed, and she set the Twix back on the shelf. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, her voice full of concern.

Kennedy gave a forced smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Nothing" she said quickly. "Just... not in the mood for it." She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Come on, let's go grab something to drink." She led the way toward the drink aisle, her hand still loosely holding Wanda's.

Wanda's fingers tightened around Kennedy's hand, sensing the subtle shift in Kennedy's mood. The hesitation, the change in posture—it didn't escape her. Kennedy had been so confident and playful just moments ago, but now she seemed distant, like she was shutting something away.

Wanda wanted to say something, ask her what was going on, but Kennedy was already moving forward, pulling them toward the drink aisle with a forced energy. She kept her face turned away, blinking rapidly, though the slight tremor in her hand betrayed her.

Wanda didn't let go of her hand. Even as they reached the drink aisle, she kept her grip firm, unwilling to let go. She absentmindedly picked up a few bottles of soda, but she was barely able to hold onto them with one hand. The other remained firmly wrapped around Kennedy's, and though it was difficult to hold on the drinks, Wanda refused to let go.

Kennedy's gaze stayed fixed ahead, avoiding Wanda's eyes as she scanned the drink aisle. "Want anything else?" she asked, her tone still casual, though there was an edge to it.

Wanda hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I'm good" she replied quietly.

Kennedy nodded before turning and leading the way toward the register. They reached the counter, and Wanda placed the drinks and snacks on the counter, her face turning slightly away from the cashier. Knowing she couldn't be seen.

Kennedy let go of Wanda's hand for a moment as she pulled out her wallet. "Can I get thirty on pump two?" she asked, her voice still steady but a little flat.

The cashier nodded, "Sure" and handed Kennedy a small plastic bag with their items.

Kennedy turned to walk out of the store, her steps brisk, and Wanda trailed behind her. Her heart sank slightly as she noticed that Kennedy had dropped her hand without a second thought, a small gesture that stung more than it should have.

Kennedy reached the car first, opening the door on Wanda's side and placing the snacks in the passenger seat. She didn't meet Wanda's eyes, and there was an unmistakable tension in the air as she then walked to the gas pump.

Wanda stood there for a moment, watching her, then slowly climbed into the car. She closed the door softly, her hands instinctively folding in her lap. Wanda stared at her hands, playing with them absentmindedly, her mind racing.

Wanda glanced out the window, her thoughts racing. What had happened? One minute, they were talking and now... now everything felt distant again.

The click of the gas pump punctuated the quiet stillness inside the car, a small sound that seemed to echo louder than usual in the heavy silence. Wanda's gaze drifted to the pump as it clicked off, but it was Kennedy's movements that caught her attention next.

Kennedy's return to the car was methodical, almost robotic. She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat without a word, her body moving as if on autopilot. The usual spark in her movements, the playful energy, the teasing smile—none of it was there now. Instead, she simply buckled her seatbelt, her fingers moving mechanically as if each action had been rehearsed a hundred times. She didn't even look at Wanda as she started the car, the engine roaring to life with a hum that felt far too loud in the quiet of the moment.

Kennedy adjusted the rearview mirror, her face expressionless, her eyes trained on the road ahead. She didn't glance at Wanda, didn't offer a single word.

Before Kennedy could shift the car into drive, Wanda reached over and pressed the button to turn the engine off. The sudden stop caught both of them off guard, the car's hum fading into an eerie quiet.

Kennedy froze, her gaze snapping to Wanda for the first time since they'd left the gas station. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her posture stiffening. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her voice low, almost defensive, as if unsure of what to make of Wanda's action.

Wanda's heart skipped a beat, the sudden tension making her throat tighten. She turned toward Kennedy, her face softening with concern. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the anxiety crawling up her spine, the vulnerability in her words hanging in the air.

Kennedy blinked, her brow furrowing at Wanda's words. "What?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She hadn't been expecting that.

Wanda's voice trembled as she quickly explained herself. "If I did something wrong, just tell me. I'm trying so hard to make everything up to you" she said, the words pouring out before she could stop them. "I feel like I can't even do that. Like... like I'm failing somehow."

Kennedy's gaze softened slightly, but she still couldn't meet Wanda's eyes. Her voice came out carefully, but with an edge of confusion, like she was still processing the weight of what Wanda had said. "You don't have to make anything up to me, Wanda," she said quietly, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. "You never did."

Wanda looked down, feeling like the distance between them was growing wider despite her words. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn't quite find the right way to express what was happening inside her. "Then why does it feel like every time we take a step forward, you pull away from me?" she asked, her voice low and fragile, full of the hurt she hadn't been able to voice until now. "It's like... we get closer, and then you just... back away. And I don't know how to make it stop." Her eyes searched Kennedy's face, hoping for an answer that would make it all feel less confusing.

Kennedy let out a slow breath, her grip on the steering wheel tightening and loosening in a rhythmic pattern, like she was trying to ground herself. She stared ahead for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice quieter now, more measured. "It's not you, Wanda" she said, the weight of those words pressing heavy in the air. "It's just... some things don't go away as easily as you'd think. And when you were gone, I—" She paused, swallowing hard. "I had to figure things out on my own. I got used to that. It's not fair to you, I know that. But it's not about anything you've done."

Wanda's brow furrowed, the confusion in her eyes softening into quiet concern. She wanted to say something, but she could see the way Kennedy's lips pressed into a tight line, like she was fighting to keep herself from saying too much.

Kennedy let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head. "It's just... when you're used to... waiting for things to fall apart, you don't exactly jump at the chance to trust that they won't. Even when you want to."

Wanda's chest tightened at the quiet confession, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. Kennedy glanced at her again, offering a weak, almost apologetic smile. "It's not about you making anything up to me. It's me trying to figure out how to let things feel... okay again." She exhaled through her nose, her gaze distant. "And I don't always know how to do that."

It was silent now. Kennedy's hand had drifted from the steering wheel, settling on her left wrist, fingers gripping and twisting it in a rhythmic motion—an old habit she had developed, one that had only grown more persistent over time. Wanda watched, her gaze drawn to the way Kennedy's knuckles turned white from the pressure, how her fingers dug into her skin as if she were trying to hold herself together by force alone.

Without thinking, Wanda reached over, her hand closing gently over Kennedy's wrist. "You're hurting yourself, Kenny—"

Before she could finish, Kennedy flinched—hard. Her entire body jerked back against the door with such force that her head hit the glass with a dull thud. The sound echoed in the small space of the car, and Wanda immediately pulled her hand back, eyes widening in shock.

She froze, her breath catching as she tilted her head, studying Kennedy with quiet, careful concern. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the sharp, unexpected ache that settled deep inside her. She hadn't meant to startle Kennedy, hadn't expected that reaction, and now it hung between them, heavy and unspoken.

Wanda's eyes softened, searching Kennedy's face as if trying to understand, trying to piece together something she hadn't fully seen before. "Kenny..." she said, her voice gentle, almost hesitant, as if afraid of pushing too hard.

Kennedy blinked rapidly, her eyes darting away, embarrassed and tense, her shoulders rising like she was trying to make herself smaller. Wanda didn't move closer, didn't press—she just watched, her expression filled with a quiet patience.

"I'm sorry" Wanda murmured finally, her voice barely above a whisper. Not because she had done anything wrong, but because she hated seeing Kennedy like this—hurting, retreating into herself. "I didn't mean to startle you. " She hesitated, her fingers twitching at her sides, unsure whether to reach out, unsure if it would make things better or worse.

Kennedy's eyes flickered toward her, then darted away, her shoulders drawn tight, as if trying to retreat even further into herself. Wanda felt a pang in her chest, the ache growing deeper, more insistent. She couldn't help it—her heart twisted with a deep, gnawing regret. The last thing she wanted was for Kennedy to hurt herself, emotionally or physically, by retreating like this. The last thing she wanted was for her to feel alone in this moment.

Wanda's voice softened, almost a whisper as she spoke, but it held a quiet intensity. "I'm not going to touch you, okay? But I need you to stop doing that." She nodded toward Kennedy's hand, gripping her wrist so tightly, as though the pressure was the only thing keeping her grounded in this moment.

Kennedy's eyes flickered toward her wrist, the tight grip she had on herself. The realization hit her like a wave, and she slowly let go, her hand falling to her side. But Wanda noticed it immediately—how she shoved her left hand into her pocket, as though trying to hide it. 

"Can I see it?" Wanda asked softly, her voice full of gentle persistence. She didn't want to push Kennedy, but she needed to know.

Kennedy's eyes flickered up to her warily, a sharp edge of caution in her gaze. But after a long, heavy moment, Kennedy slowly reached into her pocket and pulled her hand out. She placed it in the space between them.

Wanda felt her breath catch in her throat as she turned toward Kennedy, her fingers trembling slightly as she gently lifted Kennedy's arm. The soft light from the room highlighted the deepening bruises, the redness of them already setting in, and Wanda's heart ached even more. She knew this wasn't the first time Kennedy had done this. The way the bruises were fading, the way her wrist was already marked—Wanda could tell this was a pattern.

Wanda's hand hovered for a moment, before she reached into the bag beside her, pulling out the soda can she had grabbed earlier. The coldness of it would hopefully help, she thought. She gently placed the can against Kennedy's wrist, feeling the coldness spread, hoping it would bring some relief. "Why?" Wanda asked softly.

Kennedy didn't answer immediately. She seemed to shrink back from the question, her gaze flicking away, shoulders drawn tight in an almost defensive way. After a long moment, she finally murmured, "Sorry. It's just... a bad habit."

Wanda stayed silent for a moment, her heart heavy. She wasn't buying the excuse. She could see it in Kennedy's eyes, the way the words didn't quite meet the truth. This was more than a habit. This was something deeper, something she couldn't ignore.

Her voice softened, almost barely a whisper, as she leaned in slightly, her eyes meeting Kennedy's. "And the flinching?" she asked, her words quiet, but the weight of them was unmistakable.

Kennedy's breath hitched, and her eyes darted away, as though trying to hide the truth even more. She clenched her jaw, her lips pressing together tightly. "It's nothing" she muttered, the words barely audible. She tried to pull her hand back, but Wanda's grip on the soda can was firm, not forcing but insistent.

Wanda shook her head slowly, a quiet frustration building in her chest. She couldn't let this go, not when Kennedy was clearly hurting, hiding from something that was eating away at her. "It's not nothing, Kennedy. Every time I'm near you, you flinch. Every time." Her voice was soft, but the concern in it was unmistakable. "I remember the bruises from the medbay. Those weren't from nowhere."

Kennedy let out a sharp exhale, her shoulders tensing. "Can we drop it, Wanda?" Her voice was tight, edged with something between exhaustion and desperation. She finally pulled her hand away, wrapping her fingers around the soda can as if grounding herself.

Wanda didn't look away, didn't ease up, but Kennedy refused to meet her eyes. "I'm fine" she added, quieter this time, like if she said it soft enough, it might actually be true. "Just... let it go."

Wanda studied Kennedy for a long moment, her chest tightening. She knew. She had known for a while now, even if Kennedy never said it out loud. But saying his name—dragging it into the space between them—felt like crossing a line Wanda wasn't sure Kennedy was ready for.

Her fingers curled slightly before she exhaled, slow and steady. "Don't ask me to look away like it's nothing." Wanda murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

Kennedy's eyes darted suddenly, her attention snapping away from Wanda as if something outside had caught her off guard. Her breath caught for a moment, and she shifted in her seat, her gaze fixed on something behind Wanda.

"Turn around" she said quickly, the urgency in her voice unmistakable, but there was a tension there—one that Wanda couldn't ignore.

Wanda's brow furrowed. "Don't change the subject, Kennedy" she replied, her tone gentle but firm, unwilling to let go of the thread they'd been following.

But Kennedy didn't seem to hear her. "No, Wanda, turn around" she repeated, more insistently now, her voice almost pleading.

Wanda hesitated for a moment, confusion flickering across her face. She wasn't sure what Kennedy was seeing, but something in her tone made her feel like it was important. Still, Wanda slowly turned her head, scanning the street outside through the window. For a long moment, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

But then her gaze landed on a newspaper stand next to a trashcan. The usual, ignored stacks of papers lay there, but one particular headline caught her eye. It was a familiar face, one she couldn't quite place at first—until her eyes zeroed in on it.

Harrison Carter's face.

It was staring out from the front page of the newspaper, his face plastered in black and white beneath a bold headline she couldn't quite read from this distance. 

Wanda blinked, unsure of how to respond.  "Is that...?" Wanda's voice trailed off, the words stuck in her throat.

But before Wanda could finish her sentence, the car door slammed shut. Kennedy was already out, moving fast toward the newspaper stand. Wanda barely had time to react before Kennedy snatched up the top paper with shaking hands, her breath coming in quick, uneven bursts.

She unfolded it roughly, her eyes darting across the bold headline that sat just below Harrison Carter's face.

"FUGITIVE WANDA MAXIMOFF ESCAPES HEX—KIDNAPS CARTER HEIR."

Her own name was beneath the headline, smaller but still prominent, followed by a grainy photo of her from who-knows-where. The article's subheading blurred in her vision, but a few words jumped out at her—brainwashing, dangerous, unstable.

Wanda had followed her out of the car by now, her voice coming from just behind. "Kennedy, what does it say?"

Kennedy didn't answer. She couldn't.

Wanda Maximoff, infamous for her role in the Westview Incident, has resurfaced under shocking allegations. Harrison Carter, decorated government official, has publicly accused Maximoff of manipulating and kidnapping his daughter, Kennedy Carter, against her will. Sources close to Carter claim he has been working tirelessly with federal agencies to bring Kennedy home safely, citing Maximoff's history of psychological coercion and violent outbursts.

They were framing Wanda. Framing her.

A new kind of anger burned in Kennedy's eyes, sharp and unrelenting. Her hands clenched around the newspaper for a fraction of a second before she abruptly tossed it away, letting it flutter to the ground beside the trash can like it was something filthy she didn't even want to touch. Her breath was steady, but Wanda could see the way her fingers curled, the way her jaw locked—this wasn't just frustration. This was something deeper.

"Kennedy?" Wanda's voice was careful, but firm. "What did it say?"

Kennedy didn't answer right away. She only turned on her heel, her strides quick and deliberate as she made her way back to the car. Without looking at Wanda, she yanked the door open and slid into the driver's seat. Her fingers were tight around the wheel, her knuckles pale from the pressure.

"Get back in the car" Kennedy said, her voice eerily calm.

Wanda hesitated for only a second before obeying. Something about the look in Kennedy's eyes made her stomach twist—a storm brewing just beneath the surface, too controlled, too quiet. She didn't even want to question it.

As soon as Wanda shut the passenger door, Kennedy turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and within moments, they were pulling away from the curb.

Wanda stole a glance at Kennedy as the streetlights blurred past them, her expression unreadable, her grip on the wheel like a vice.

She didn't ask where they were going.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

━━━━━

The drive back to New York was quiet.

Wanda kept her gaze on the road ahead, the passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across the dashboard. She didn't want to be here. Not now. Not when she knew how dangerous it was—for both of them. Every instinct in her screamed that they should be going anywhere else. But she trusted Kennedy. Whatever she had decided back at the newsstand, whatever was driving her forward now, Wanda knew better than to question it.

Still, the tension sat heavy between them, unspoken but thick.

When Kennedy finally slowed the car, pulling into a driveway, Wanda's brows furrowed. She knew this house. She had seen it a hundred times before, from the passenger seat of Kennedy's car, right across the street from the house where they always picked up Harvey before heading out.

Kennedy's childhood home.

The realization settled deep in Wanda's chest as Kennedy shut off the engine. The moment the car fell silent, she got out, moving with an ease that didn't match the tightness in her jaw. Wanda hesitated, gripping the seatbelt for just a second longer, unsure if she should follow.

Then Kennedy opened her door.

Wanda looked up, and for the first time since they'd seen that article, Kennedy's expression wasn't just anger anymore. It was something else—something Wanda had never seen before.

"I need to grab some things from inside" Kennedy said quietly, then hesitated. Her fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the car door, knuckles faintly white. She exhaled, almost like she was second-guessing herself, before finally saying, "Can you, um... it would make me feel better if you came."

There was something vulnerable in her voice, something raw beneath the steady mask she usually wore.

And that—more than anything—was why Wanda nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and stepped out of the car without another word.

Wanda didn't miss the way Kennedy's hand shook as she searched for her key, fingers fumbling slightly before she finally got it into the lock. It was a small thing, barely noticeable, but Wanda saw it. She saw everything.

When the door swung open, the first thing that hit her was the scent—crisp apple, artificial in a way she couldn't quite place. Like a candle burned too long or air freshener sprayed to cover something up. It didn't smell bad, but it felt... fake. Manufactured.

The house was still, untouched in a way that made Wanda wonder how often anyone even lived here anymore. But what really caught her attention were the walls.

Framed photos lined the space, a collection of memories displayed neatly along the hallway. Wanda's eyes moved over them slowly—Kennedy and Sharon at their high school graduation, Kennedy at different milestones, smiles that never quite reached her eyes. Pieces of a life, frozen in time. But something was missing.

Harrison Carter wasn't in any of them.

Not a single picture of him stood among them, not at Kennedy's birthdays, not at school events, not even in the candid moments of childhood.

But what Wanda didn't notice—was the way every single photo had been carefully cut, trimmed just enough to fit perfectly into the frame.

The original photos hadn't been just Kennedy and Sharon.

Peggy Carter had been in all of them.

Every single picture, every carefully cropped frame—Peggy had always been there, standing behind them. But she had been cut out, erased from sight, leaving only the perfectly framed illusion of what their family was supposed to look like.

Except for one.

Wanda watched as Kennedy's eyes landed on a particular frame, her breath hitching just slightly.

It was the only photo in the house that showed a full family.

But it wasn't of Kennedy.

It was of Sharon—years younger—standing with Harrison, her mother, and Peggy. The perfect family portrait.

Kennedy's jaw tightened, fingers curling slightly at her sides. That one hit the hardest.

And Wanda didn't need to ask why.

Kennedy's eyes stayed locked on the photo, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. She didn't move, didn't say anything.

It wasn't until Wanda's voice cut through the silence—soft, hesitant—that she finally blinked.

"Kenny?"

Kennedy inhaled sharply, like she was shaking herself out of a trance. She turned away from the frame abruptly, her voice clipped. "This way."

Wanda followed as Kennedy led her upstairs. The house was quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that didn't feel natural, like no one had truly lived here in a long time.

When they stepped into the room, Wanda stopped just inside the doorway.

It was empty.

Not in the way bedrooms were when someone had simply been away for a while, but in a way that made Wanda's chest tighten. White sheets covered the bed. The walls were bare. There were no posters, no decorations, no personal touches.

Nothing about this room screamed Kennedy.

And in a way, that scared Wanda.

Because maybe she didn't know this Kennedy.

Kennedy didn't hesitate. She walked straight to her desk, crouching down to pull out a backpack from underneath. Then, without a word, she moved to the closet, sliding it open.

Wanda lingered near the doorway, shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do. She wasn't even sure Kennedy wanted her here.

Her gaze wandered, taking in the neat rows of clothes hanging inside the closet. Something about them made her pause.

It was... weird.

Most of the wardrobe was business casual—blouses, slacks, neatly pressed blazers. Nothing about it fit the Kennedy Wanda knew.

Kennedy, who wore ripped jeans and old band shirts. Kennedy, who lived in oversized sweatshirts and sneakers she'd had for years.

Wanda couldn't picture her in any of this.

And judging by the way Kennedy was avoiding those clothes like the plague, neither could she.

Instead, Kennedy grabbed only the things that felt familiar—sweatshirts, a couple pairs of pants. Most of the sweatshirts were huge, too big for her frame. Wanda immediately recognized them as Harvey's.

Kennedy stuffed them into the backpack, movements quick, methodical.

Wanda stood silently, still processing the strange emptiness of the room and the way Kennedy moved—like she was trying to grab whatever pieces of herself she could before leaving this place behind.

It wasn't until Kennedy pulled her chair back with a loud scrape against the floor that Wanda's attention snapped to her.

Kennedy stood up on the chair, reaching toward the vent on the wall above her desk. For a brief moment, Wanda felt a jolt of panic, unsure of what was happening. But then Kennedy's hands moved with practiced ease, unscrewing the vent cover and pulling out a manila file, thick with papers.

Wanda blinked, instinctively stepping forward. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice sharp with curiosity and caution.

Kennedy didn't answer right away. She handed the file to Wanda, her hands steady but her gaze hardened with a determination that Wanda couldn't ignore.

"This" Kennedy said, her voice flat but laced with a quiet intensity, "this is every shady thing he's ever done. Every dirty little secret he's kept buried." She let the words hang in the air. "This is the perfect bargaining chip to clear your name."

Wanda's eyes scanned the thick file, the weight of it in her hands more than just paper. It was the kind of thing that could change everything—and Kennedy knew it. But a question lingered, one she couldn't shake.

She looked up at Kennedy, her voice soft, almost cautious. "Why?"

Kennedy met her eyes, her brow furrowing. There was no hesitation, no second guessing her answer.

"What do you mean, why?" Kennedy asked, her voice sharp, but something in her expression softened—just a little. "He's made you the villain. You're the scapegoat for all of it. This—" She gestured to the file in Wanda's hands, "—this is your way out. "

Wanda didn't answer immediately. The words stuck in her throat, because Kennedy was right. She did want that. But it felt too easy. Too... calculated. There had to be more to it.

"And what were you going to do with it before?" Wanda asked, her voice low, careful, but there was an edge of suspicion. She could feel the answer hovering just beneath the surface. Kennedy had kept this file hidden for a reason. She didn't just find it. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"I wasn't going to use it" Kennedy said, her voice almost bitter now.

 "You're lying" Wanda said flatly.

Kennedy didn't flinch at the accusation. She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was heavier than before, but it carried the weight of years of secrets she had been carrying alone.

"I wasn't going to use it... at least not like this" she admitted, her voice softer now, like she was trying to make Wanda understand something she couldn't quite put into words. Kennedy glanced down at the file, then back up, her lips pressing together before she finally said, "I needed to say goodbye first."

Wanda's chest tightened at the words. Goodbye. It rang in her ears, heavy, unexpected.

Her brows furrowed. "Goodbye?" she echoed, cautious. "Why?"

Kennedy let out a quiet, almost bitter chuckle, shaking her head. "Because, Wanda" she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Even when you hated me, even when you couldn't stand being in the same room, I still—" She stopped herself, biting down on the words before sighing. "I still owed you that much."

Wanda's stomach twisted. She remembered that day too well—the anger, the hurt, the way she had looked Kennedy in the eyes and told her to walk away, told her to never come back.

Kennedy swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep going. "I didn't want you to think I was running away just because of you. I wanted you to know it was because of him. Because of everything he did to me." She let out a small, humorless laugh. "And maybe, deep down, I just wanted to see you one last time. Even if it was just to make sure you were okay."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Kennedy let out another sigh, shaking her head. "Didn't really get the chance, though," she added, a dry edge to her voice. "You know, considering I never actually got to leave... Dying and all."

Wanda felt something deep in her chest shift. She had spent so long resenting Kennedy, so long believing she had walked away without a second thought. But now, standing here, hearing this—it changed things. It made her realize just how much Kennedy had been carrying, even back then.

She swallowed hard, her voice quieter when she finally spoke. "You should've said something."

Kennedy huffed a small, tired laugh. "Would you have listened?"

Wanda opened her mouth, then closed it, realizing she didn't have an answer for that.

Wanda felt her breath hitch as the pieces started clicking into place. The weight of Kennedy's words, the hesitation in her voice—it was all pointing to something Wanda hadn't let herself consider before.

That day.

That day.

She couldn't bring herself to say it, not at first. Her throat tightened, and the room suddenly felt smaller, like the walls were pressing in on her. She stared at Kennedy, searching for a lie, for some kind of deflection—but there was none. Just the quiet acceptance in Kennedy's expression.

"The day in Wakanda" Wanda finally whispered, her voice barely audible. "You came to say goodbye."

Kennedy held her gaze, and slowly—so slowly—she nodded.

"My dad put me on the mission" Kennedy said, her voice softer now, more careful. "It was supposed to be routine. In and out. But I knew..." She exhaled, shaking her head like she was trying to shake off the ghosts of the past. "I knew it was the perfect chance. A way to finally say goodbye... and to give you your stuff back."

Her eyes flickered downward, nodding toward Wanda's wrist.

Wanda followed her gaze, and her breath caught as she looked down at the worn bracelet still wrapped around her wrist—the same one Kennedy had returned to her that day.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look back at Kennedy. "You knew you weren't coming back." It wasn't a question. It was a realization. A truth that made her chest ache in ways she couldn't describe.

Kennedy let out a slow breath, her lips twitching into something that might've been a smile if it weren't so hollow. "There was a part of me hoping I would" she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost careful. "But I wasn't stupid, Wanda. I knew what the odds were." She let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Guess I was right."

Wanda's throat tightened, emotions clawing their way up, but she swallowed them down. There was something else she needed to say, something she couldn't keep inside any longer.

"Kennedy..." Wanda hesitated, her voice almost breaking before she pushed through. "You have to know... I didn't mean it. When I told you to go. When I told you never to come back—I didn't mean it."

Kennedy finally met her gaze, and for the first time, Wanda saw something shift in her expression. The guarded walls weren't gone, but there was something fragile behind them, something raw.

"I know" Kennedy whispered.

Wanda inhaled sharply, blinking against the sting in her eyes. "Do you?" she asked, because she needed Kennedy to really understand. "Because I was angry. I was hurt. But I never wanted that. Not really."

Kennedy studied her for a long moment before nodding, her voice softer than before. "Yeah. I know."

And somehow, hearing it didn't make the ache go away. It just made it more real.

Wanda shook her head, the ache in her chest pressing heavier now. "Then why didn't you fight me to stay?" she asked, her voice quiet but firm. "The Kennedy I knew was always stubborn. You never backed down from anything."

Kennedy let out a soft, almost wistful laugh, the sound barely there. "And the little witch I knew was even more stubborn" she countered, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Wanda. "If you asked me to go, why wouldn't I?"

Wanda opened her mouth to argue, but Kennedy kept going.

"I knew you were safe" Kennedy said, her voice gentler now, though there was something deeper beneath it—something heavier. "You were no longer in that cell my dad kept you in. You were free." She inhaled slowly, as if steadying herself before the next words left her lips. "I never wanted to be the reason you had to keep fighting."

Wanda felt her throat tighten, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.

Because that was the difference between them.

Wanda had spent so long fighting to hold on—to anything, to everything—that she hadn't considered what it would have looked like to let go. But Kennedy? Kennedy had been willing to walk away if it meant Wanda could finally stop fighting. If it meant she could be free.

But Wanda wasn't free. Not then. Not now.

Wanda felt her breath hitch at that, something twisting deep in her chest. "Kennedy..."

Kennedy just offered her a small, sad smile. "I would've left if it made it easier for you" she admitted. "But I think we both know it never really got easier... for either of us."

Wanda didn't think—she just moved. Slowly, cautiously, like she was afraid Kennedy might slip through her fingers if she moved too fast. She sat down beside her on the bed, close enough that their shoulders brushed, close enough to feel the warmth of Kennedy's presence beside her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung between them, thick and suffocating.

Then, with careful fingers, Wanda reached for Kennedy's hand. She felt the way Kennedy tensed slightly at the contact but didn't pull away, didn't flinch like she used to. That, more than anything, made Wanda's chest ache.

She hesitated for just a second before sliding the worn bracelet off her own wrist, her fingers trembling as she gently wrapped it around Kennedy's instead.

Kennedy's breath hitched as she looked down at it, her lips parting slightly, her expression unreadable.

Wanda swallowed hard, blinking rapidly against the sting in her eyes. "I don't want you to go" she whispered, her voice thick, raw. "I mean it."

Kennedy's fingers twitched beneath hers, but she still didn't speak.

Wanda exhaled shakily, forcing herself to continue. "I spent so long being angry at you for leaving. Hating you for it. But the truth is, Kennedy... I was never mad that you left. I was mad because it was never your fault."

"I thought if I pushed you away first, it would hurt less." Wanda admitted, her voice barely above a whisper now. "But it didn't. It never did."

"I don't want you to go" Wanda whispered. "I mean it. I never wanted you to leave. I can't stand the idea of losing you. I couldn't stand the thought of being alone... again."

"I don't want to fight anymore, Kennedy. Not without you."

"Wanda" Kennedy's voice was softer now, but still heavy with a painful truth, "You don't know what you're asking." She pulled her hand from Wanda's gently, her fingers lingering for a moment before she let it drop.

She looked up at Wanda, her eyes dark with a mix of sadness and regret. "You need to think about this. I'm broken, Wanda. I don't have the strength to pretend anymore. I'm not the girl you knew. And even if I could be, I wouldn't be good for you anymore."

Kennedy took a shaky breath, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I'm damaged. More than you can imagine. If you hold on to me, you'll only get hurt. I've spent too much time in this dark place, too much time in my father's shadow, doing things I can't undo. The person you loved... she's not here. I can't give you that anymore."

Wanda's heart twisted, but Kennedy wasn't finished.

"I know you want me to stay, but you need to understand that you don't want this version of me. I'm not strong enough to be what you need. I can't be the person you want me to be. I won't be able to fix myself just because you want me to."

Before Kennedy could pull further away, Wanda reached out, her hands trembling slightly as she cupped Kennedy's face gently. The contact felt like an anchor, grounding them both in the moment. Kennedy's breath hitched, but Wanda didn't let go, her eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity.

"Stop" Wanda whispered, her voice raw with emotion. "You met me when I was broken. When I was damaged." She paused, her thumb brushing over Kennedy's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under her fingers, and the vulnerability that lay beneath her walls. "I was a mess. And you still stayed. You still loved me then, even when I couldn't see my way out of the darkness. So don't you dare tell me that I can't love you now."

Wanda's eyes softened, the vulnerability of her own past giving her the strength to speak from her heart. "Let me be there for you, Kennedy. Let me learn how to love you again. I don't need you to be perfect. I never did. I just need you." Her voice trembled, but she held firm. "I can't walk away from you now, not when we're this close. Not when there's still a chance for us to find our way back."

Wanda's voice softened, the words flowing from her heart, raw and genuine. "Let me fall in love with you again, piece by piece. I don't need you to be perfect. I don't need you to be who you used to be."

Kennedy's gaze faltered, her chest tight with uncertainty. She hesitated, then spoke, her voice low and guarded. "And what if there are parts of me you can't love?"

Wanda's gaze softened, her hands still gently cradling Kennedy's face. Her voice was steady, though the weight of her words lingered in the air between them. "I've always loved every piece of you, Kennedy. Even the parts you've hidden, the parts you think are too broken." She took a slow, deliberate breath, letting the quiet vulnerability of the moment settle in.

"You said it yourself, I'm stubborn" Wanda continued, her smile faint but real. "Too stubborn, and too in love with you, to let you make me believe that I can't love all of you."

The air between them was thick with unspoken words, a fragile moment that seemed to stretch forever. But then, suddenly, the sound of tires crunching on gravel broke through the stillness. The hum of engines grew louder, and the bright headlights of cars cut through the window, shining in like a spotlight.

Kennedy's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted toward the window, and her heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of military cars pulling up to the house.

"Shit" Kennedy muttered under her breath, her face paling. Without thinking, she grabbed the duffle bag, hurriedly shoving the file and the rest of her things inside. Her hands moved quickly, but there was a desperation in the way she moved, like she had no time to waste.

"Wands, we gotta go" she said urgently, grabbing Wanda's hand and pulling her towards the door. Her voice was tight with fear, but there was no hesitation in her movements. "Now."

Wanda's heart raced, her mind barely processing what was happening. But the urgency in Kennedy's voice jolted her into action. She didn't ask questions—she just followed, letting Kennedy pull her along as they moved toward the door. The sound of boots hitting the pavement outside only grew louder, a reminder that there was no more time to think.

Kennedy and Wanda hurried down the stairs, the sound of military boots getting louder outside, and the tension growing with every step. Kennedy's heart was pounding in her chest, and she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder, the noise from the cars outside cutting through the silence of the house like a warning. They were running out of time.

Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a heavy knock came at the door. It echoed through the house like a drumbeat, and Kennedy flinched at the sound. The sudden rush of panic seized her chest.

"Shit" Kennedy muttered under her breath, and without missing a beat, she grabbed the duffle bag, thrusting it into Wanda's hands. "Take this" she said quickly, her voice tight with urgency. "Go out the back. There's a little hole in the fence next to the tire swing—it'll lead you out to the backyard. Take Harvey's car—the key's in the middle console. He doesn't lock his door."

Wanda's eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head. "No, no, I'm not leaving you," she said, her voice breaking slightly, the fear evident in her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What the hell, Kennedy?"

"They want you, not me" Kennedy said, her voice tight, desperate. "You need to go. I'll figure it out. I'll find a way—just go."

Wanda's jaw clenched as she stared at her, unblinking, her hands still gripping the duffle bag like it was the only thing tethering her to the moment. Her gaze was intense, unwavering.

"Last time I checked, your dad tried to kill you" Wanda said flatly, her voice cold, and a dead stare that cut through the air like a knife. "So don't tell me it's only me they want."

"Wanda, please" Kennedy's voice cracked with a desperate edge. She grabbed Wanda's shoulders, her grip firm but shaky. "Stop being so stubborn, okay? Just... just go. Start the car. Get out of here."

Wanda stood there, staring into Kennedy's eyes, feeling the weight of her words press down on her.

"Please, Wanda," Kennedy's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "I need to grab something upstairs. Just trust me."

Wanda shook her head slowly, her grip on the duffle bag tightening, her voice firm but pained. "It can't be more important than your life."

"It is, Wanda" Kennedy insisted, her voice raw, like she was about to break.

Wanda's heart wrenched, but she wasn't going to let Kennedy go alone. "Let me help" she whispered desperately, her eyes begging for some kind of compromise.

Kennedy's eyes softened for just a moment before her gaze turned calculating, then wild, then desperate. "Can you... can you use your witchy powers or something? Make them disappear?" she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

Wanda blinked in shock, her face softening in disbelief. "I'm not a magician, Kennedy"

Wanda looked out the window toward the lights from the outside, her thoughts colliding with the fear inside of her. She glanced back at her hand, the one that had caused so much destruction in the past, the one that still held so much power.

And Kennedy saw it.

She saw that flicker in Wanda's eyes. The uncertainty. The fear. It was the same look she'd seen before—the look of someone who was afraid of their own power, afraid of losing control. Afraid of hurting someone.

"Hey, I was kidding" Kennedy said quickly, her voice trying to steady, to reassure. "You don't have to do any of that. Just... get out first, okay?" She offered a small, but earnest smile, though there was still tension in her voice. "I know this house like the back of my hand. I know the way out. I promise, I'll meet you outside."

"I can't let you—"  Before Wanda could protest further, Kennedy closed the distance between them. Without another word, she reached up and cupped Wanda's face, pulling her into a kiss.

"Go" Kennedy whispered.

"You can keep kissing me to get what you want" Wanda said flatly.

Kennedy let out a soft, breathless laugh, her gaze softening as she looked at Wanda.

"Five minutes" Wanda cut in, her voice calm but intense. "Five minutes to get out. If you aren't gone by then, I swear to God, I'll turn this house into a warzone." She gave Kennedy a pointed look, the weight of her words carrying a promise of force. (One look was all it took)

Kennedy's heart pounded in her chest, but she nodded, her grip on Wanda's face loosening slightly, giving her the space she needed. "I'll make it quick" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda let go of the breath she was holding, giving Kennedy one last look, filled with everything she couldn't say. "You better."

And with that, she turned and headed toward the back door.

Kennedy's heart hammered in her chest as she bolted upstairs, the sound of boots pounding closer behind her. She rushed into her room, the familiar walls feeling like a sanctuary even if only for a moment. Her mind was a whirlwind—she couldn't afford to think, only to act.

She moved swiftly to her desk, sliding the top drawer open with a practiced hand. Her fingers brushed against the cold surface of a second file, this one more crucial than the last. She grabbed it and tucked it under her arm, but that wasn't enough. There was one more thing—something that meant everything to her.

Her hand reached for a small, worn wooden box hidden in the far corner of the drawer. It had seen better days, the edges chipped and faded from years of being tucked away. The box clicked open with a soft sigh, revealing its precious contents.

A necklace. The chain was delicate, the pendant a small vial filled with a swirling blue liquid. Kennedy's throat tightened as she ran her thumb over the smooth glass.

Kennedy closed the box with a finality that echoed in her chest, her pulse thrumming in her ears. She didn't have time to mourn now. She had to move. Fast.

She darted toward the door, but as her hand touched the knob, she froze.

A soldier stood in the hallway, gun drawn, aiming it squarely at her chest. Kennedy's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing for a plan. But before she could make a move, the soldier barked an order.

Without thinking, Kennedy shoved past the soldier, slamming the door shut behind her as she sprinted toward the window. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't hesitate. She slid the window open, kicking the screen out with a swift motion, the rush of cool air filling her lungs. She didn't waste a second.

She climbed out the window, fingers gripping the edge of the building as she scaled the side with an ease that came from years of practice. The ground seemed miles away, but she wasn't thinking about that. She was thinking about one thing: getting out.

Across the street, Wanda watched from the car, her eyes never leaving the house. She felt her breath catch in her throat when she saw Kennedy's figure, moving like a shadow in the night, climbing with purpose. 

Before Wanda could even react, Kennedy yanked open the passenger door and jumped in, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Hit the gas, witchy," Kennedy urged, her voice sharp and urgent, her eyes scanning the rearview mirror for any signs of pursuit.

Without a second thought, Wanda slammed her foot down on the gas, the car lurching forward with a roar. The tires screeched as they tore down the street, and Wanda's grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles white.

Kennedy took a few deep breaths, her chest heaving as she finally managed to steady herself. She glanced over at Wanda, a crooked grin spreading across her face despite the situation. "That was fun" she said, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Wanda shot her a quick, exasperated look, her eyes narrowing as she gripped the steering wheel even tighter. "ARE YOU CRAZY?" she almost shouted, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and fear. "If you ever make me leave you again for a stupid box, I might kill you myself."

Kennedy's voice softened as she carefully lifted the lid of the box, her eyes lingering on the contents. "It belonged to Peggy..." she murmured, her voice quieter now, the words carrying a weight that hadn't been there before. She ran her thumb over the necklace inside.

"It's all I have left of her" Kennedy added, her tone softer, tinged with an emotion Wanda hadn't heard in her voice for a long time. "I wasn't leaving it behind."

"Next time" Wanda said, her voice gentler now, "just tell me."

Kennedy let out a quiet sigh, her fingers lingering on the necklace as she closed the box. "Sorry," she murmured.

Wanda glanced at her, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the situation. "Where to now?"

Kennedy's eyes flickered to the window for a moment, a tired laugh escaping her. "To the one person who's been on the run before" Natasha Romanoff.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her face. "Hey, I've been on the run too" she retorted, her grip still tight on the wheel.

Kennedy shot her a side glance, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Yeah, with the help of a robot" she teased. "Which, I didn't forget by the way."

Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was a soft chuckle in her throat. "You're not going to let that go, are you?" she asked.

Kennedy's grin widened, but there was a bit of bitterness behind it as she shrugged. "I'm a little bitter" she admitted with a sigh. "Okay, maybe a lot bitter."

Wanda's grip on the wheel tightened just slightly as she shot Kennedy a sideways glance. "How many I'm sorry's is it gonna take?" she asked.

Kennedy raised an eyebrow, "How many times did you kiss him?" she shot back.

Wanda's face flushed slightly, her eyes darting to the road ahead. "I'm not answering that," she muttered quickly.

Kennedy let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

Wanda couldn't help the small chuckle that slipped out. "I didn't count"

Kennedy looked out the window, her arms crossed. "See? I knew that would hurt your feelings," Wanda teased, her voice lighter now.

Kennedy rolled her eyes dramatically. "My feelings were hurt when you chose Optimus Prime as a rebound" she shot back, her voice dry.

Wanda blinked, caught off guard for a second, and then she burst out laughing, shaking her head. "You did not just—"

Kennedy's grin widened. "Oh, I did."

Wanda let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she glanced at Kennedy. "If it helps, I regret it very much" she said with a slight smirk, the tone of her voice clearly playful but tinged with genuine remorse.

Kennedy didn't even flinch, her grin widening as she leaned back in the seat. "No, it doesn't help" she replied with a mock-somber tone. "But I'm glad you suffered the way I did."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her, unable to keep the grin off her face. "You're so overdramatic" she teased, rolling her eyes.

Kennedy shot her a side-eye, unbothered. "I'm just speaking the truth. That was cruel."

Wanda couldn't help the small laugh that escaped as she shook her head, looking at Kennedy. "I chose you" she said with a playful glint in her eyes, her voice softening just slightly, the teasing lingering beneath the words.

Kennedy smirked, her expression amused but unreadable. "I guess" she replied, leaning back into the seat. 

Wanda rolled her eyes, clearly enjoying the banter. "You're impossible, she said, her voice warm but exasperated.

Kennedy reached over, slipping her hand into Wanda's, her fingers brushing against hers with a casual intimacy. She began to absentmindedly play with Wanda's hand, her touch gentle and familiar.

"Seat belt" Wanda murmured, her gaze flickering between the road and Kennedy.

Kennedy groaned, leaning back further in the seat with a mock-sulking expression. "God, you're such a mom" she muttered, but she still reached for the seat belt, buckling it in.

Wanda chuckled, glancing over at her with a raised brow. "Someone has to keep you alive" she said with a wink.

Kennedy rolled her eyes dramatically, "Okay, my dad tried to kill me once, okay?" she said, the sarcasm heavy in her voice, though there was a flicker of something deeper behind her words.

━━━━━

When they pulled up to Jenna's house, the neighborhood was eerily quiet, the stillness hanging in the air. Kennedy glanced at Wanda briefly before opening the car door. "Here we go" she murmured, her voice low.

Without hesitation, she made her way up to the front door, her boots tapping against the concrete as she turned the handle. As soon as she stepped inside, the door swung shut behind her, but before she could take a step further, she was suddenly shoved against it, hard enough that her breath left her in a gasp.

She caught a flash of red in her peripheral vision, followed by the weight of someone pressing against her chest. "Wow, is this how you people treat a coma patient?" Kennedy groaned, rubbing her shoulder where the impact had hit.

Natasha froze, her eyes wide with realization. "Shit, my bad, Ken" she muttered, quickly backing away with an almost apologetic look on her face.

Kennedy smirked, rolling her eyes. "It's fine, I'm still alive, obviously."

As Natasha's gaze shifted toward Wanda, she visibly relaxed, a relieved expression crossing her face. "Wanda, you're okay," she said, her voice a little softer, as if making sure it was true. Without another word, she pulled Wanda into a tight hug, holding her for a long moment.

As Natasha held Wanda, Sharon stormed over, her expression a mix of relief and frustration. Without warning, she slapped Kennedy's arm, her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance.

"You had me worried sick!" Sharon exclaimed, her voice a little sharp with the lingering tension. "You could've at least taken your phone with you, or— I don't know—bring someone with you next time you go steal a witch out of her hex!"

Sharon folded her arms, her tone softening as she exhaled, though there was still a lingering edge to it. "You're lucky you're still here to get scolded" she muttered, shaking her head but clearly relieved.

Kennedy muttered under her breath, still rubbing the spot where Sharon had slapped her arm. "Wish I wasn't" she grumbled, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sharon shot her an exasperated look, shaking her head. "Unbelievable," she sighed.

Kennedy shrugged, her face neutral as she leaned against the wall. "Fun story..." she started.

Just then, Tony, who had been lounging on the couch with a tablet, spoke up, his voice casual but with that unmistakable edge of amusement. "Is it that you two are now wanted fugitives and are looking for help to go on the run?" he asked, looking between Kennedy and Wanda.

Everyone turned to Tony, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion.

"What?" Sharon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tony, with a playful shrug, pointed to the TV. "Just a guess. Your face is all over the news" he said.

Kennedy glanced over at the TV and froze for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she took in the image of herself, splashed across the screen in black and white with a bold headline beneath her face. "Wow" she muttered, leaning in for a better look, "I look really nice in that picture."

Everyone was silent for a beat as they all turned to stare at the screen, the realization of their situation setting in.

Sharon gave Kennedy a sideways glance. "You seriously didn't think this would be an issue?" she asked, her voice dry but tinged with humor.

Kennedy gave a nonchalant shrug. "I was too busy escaping from our father to think about my PR, Sharon."

Sharon's eyebrows shot up, her gaze sharpening on Kennedy. "Escape from who?" she asked.

Kennedy's face twisted into a smirk, and she leaned back against the counter, her arms crossing over her chest as she shrugged casually. "Oh yeah, dad tried to kill me" she said with a wave of her hand. She made a crazy gesture, twirling her finger in the air as if describing the extent of her father's insanity. "Guess I finally made him go coo coo."

Sharon just stared at her for a moment, blinking in disbelief,  "Jesus Christ, Ken" she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

Jenna let out a dry laugh,  "And I thought my family drama was fucked up" she quipped, shaking her head. "I mean, I've had my share, but damn, you win on that one."

Kennedy leaned back against the counter, rubbing her temples dramatically. "I really need a nap after all this" she muttered, her voice low with exhaustion. "But, now, my lovely dearest Natasha, if we were to go on the run, how would we start?"

Before anyone could respond, Sharon's voice rang out sharply. "Kennedy, what the hell are you talking about? No. You are not going on the run."

Kennedy rolled her eyes, not in the mood to deal with Sharon's overprotectiveness. "What do you mean, no? I'm an adult, Sharon. I'm perfectly capable of deciding for myself whether or not I go on the run."

Sharon's face turned serious, her hands on her hips. "I don't care how old you are, Ken. You've got people who care about you here."

Kennedy crossed her arms, "Yeah, but you get to leave the moment shit hits the fan, right?" she shot back, her voice dripping with frustration. "You get to go, do whatever, and I'm stuck here cleaning up the mess every time."

Sharon's eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe, or the weight of Kennedy's words—but she quickly masked it with a defensive tone. "That's not fair, Ken," she said, her voice dropping as she softened. "I'm just trying to keep you safe. You think I didn't see how you were when you got back?"

Kennedy exhaled sharply, her frustration bubbling over. " I don't need to be babied."

"Nobody's babying you" Sharon shot back, her voice firm but gentle. "I'm your sister. After Peggy... after everything that happened, you're my responsibility."

Kennedy's eyes darkened. "Where was that responsibility when Peggy was gone, huh? Where was it when you just up and left?" she demanded, her voice breaking on the words.

The room fell silent, and Kennedy's eyes flickered away from Sharon, her chest tight with emotion. Jenna, standing nearby, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Kennedy's shoulder, her touch a calming presence. "Ken..." she murmured softly, her voice filled with compassion.

Kennedy shook her head, her frustration boiling over as she pulled away slightly from Jenna's touch. Sharon's gaze softened as she watched Kennedy, the words hitting her harder than she expected. She saw the way Kennedy's shoulders tensed, the flicker of emotion in her eyes that she hadn't seen in years—tears that had been bubbling up, threatening to spill over, just like when they were children. Sharon's heart sank as she realized how deeply this had all affected her sister.

It was a summer night, the heat of the season still clinging to the air. Sharon had been so excited, packing her things to leave for her mom's house for the weekend. Kennedy had sat on her bed, watching her sister with wide eyes, full of hope, admiration, and excitement.

"You're gonna be home this weekend again, right?" Kennedy had asked, her voice small but hopeful. "Aunt Peggy promised she would take us for ice cream."

Sharon had been packing quickly, tossing a jacket into her bag with a flick of her wrist. She had paused for a moment and then turned to grab another shirt, frowning when she didn't like it. With a shrug, she had thrown it at Kennedy, the shirt landing on her head and making her giggle.

"You still owe me from the last trip" Sharon had teased, crossing her arms.

Kennedy had grinned, pulling the shirt off her head. "You tickled me and made me drop my ice cream! It was only fair that you shared it."

Sharon had ruffled her hair affectionately. "I gotta go, but I'll see you in four days, okay?" she had said, giving Kennedy a smile before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

Kennedy had nodded, feeling a small pang of sadness. "Be good and stay out of my room" Sharon had called over her shoulder as she left.

But four days had turned into two. When Aunt Peggy pulled up to the driveway of Sharon's mom's house, Sharon had just gotten out of bed, walking downstairs with her usual energy.

But when she saw Peggy in the living room, her face was tight, her expression unreadable. Sharon had asked, "What's wrong?" and Sharon's mom had shaken her head.

Sharon's mom knew exactly what kind of man Harrison was. That was why she had left. But, she had told Sharon, sometimes you had to make sacrifices to see your children, to give them the best life you could.

"Where's Ken?" Sharon had asked quickly, her concern evident. Peggy had nodded toward the kitchen, and Sharon had moved fast, her feet light on the floor as she approached the room.

Under the kitchen table, hidden beneath the cloth, was Kennedy's small form. The sight made Sharon's heart drop. She bent down to reach for her sister, but Peggy's voice stopped her. "Don't."

Sharon had hesitated for only a moment before she reached out anyway, placing her hand gently on Kennedy's knee. The instant Kennedy felt the touch, her body went rigid, and her small body began to shake. She started crying, her words a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"Please, don't... I'm sorry" she sobbed, her voice raw with terror.

Sharon knelt down beside her, softening her tone. "Hey, hey, it's just me." She moved closer, wrapping her arms around Kennedy and pulling her into her chest. Kennedy had only been able to mutter one word over and over again: "Sorry."

Kennedy had never talked about what had happened. She never had the words to explain it, even if she'd wanted to. But she would never forget the events of that night.

When Harrison came home from work, he had forgotten Sharon was leaving for the weekend. It had only taken that one small detail to push him further over the edge. He had been even more frustrated than usual, his temper flared.

Kennedy had been sitting at the table, and Harrison, trying to maintain some semblance of control, had handed her a plate of food. She'd taken it from him with a smile, saying, "Thanks, Dad."

But when she had turned around, she had tripped over the bag Harrison had left on the floor, the one filled with important files. The food had spilled, and the anger in Harrison's eyes had flared up like a storm. Kennedy had felt the fury in his gaze—a fire burning in his eyes that she had never seen before.

He had tossed the plate on the floor, the crash of it against the tiles deafening. Kennedy had flinched, instinctively shrinking away, but that hadn't stopped him. He had turned and slapped her, the force of it leaving her stunned and disoriented. She was only five.

Kennedy remembered everything—the way the food had smelled, the color of his tie, the sudden, brutal explosion of rage in his eyes. She remembered the blood running from her busted lip, the way she begged him to stop, and the only thing she could say over and over again, in between sobs, was "I'm sorry."

Then again in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry" she had kept whispering, over and over again, until she had collapsed into Sharon's arms, too exhausted to keep fighting. She had cried herself to sleep, her body wracked with silent sobs, until the world had faded away into darkness.

That was the night everything had changed.

Kennedy didn't know it at the time, but it was the moment that marked the end of her innocence.

Sharon, too, had changed that night. She had seen the pain in Kennedy's eyes, heard the fear in her voice, and from that moment on, Sharon had sworn to protect her sister with everything she had. No one would ever hurt Kennedy again.

Sharon took a tentative step forward, her hand almost reaching out to Kennedy, but before she could make contact, Kennedy brushed her off, the motion sharp and defensive. She turned quickly, walking towards the room without a glance back.

Sharon's heart tightened at the sight, the distance between them growing wider with every step Kennedy took. She started to follow, instinctively wanting to fix things, but before she could take another step, Wanda stepped in.

"I got it" Wanda said softly, her voice calm but firm. She placed a gentle hand on Sharon's arm, halting her in place. Sharon looked up at her, skepticism clouding her gaze. Wanda's intentions were clear, but something in Sharon's chest twisted.

Sharon didn't know how to feel about Wanda right now. It was a mix of gratitude and frustration. Wanda had been through so much with them—with Kennedy—but Sharon couldn't shake the memory of the hurt Kennedy had felt when Wanda left.

Wanda stood outside the bedroom door for a moment, her hand hovering just above the doorknob. She took a deep breath, the weight of the silence thick in the air. She knocked gently, her voice soft. "It's me."

There was no immediate response, just the quiet hum of the room. For a moment, Wanda thought Kennedy might not answer, but then she heard her voice, low and reluctant. "Come in."

Wanda pushed the door open slowly, stepping into the room to find Kennedy lying on the bed, her body relaxed but her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of everything was pressing down on them both, and Wanda felt it in her chest. She hesitated for just a second before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Kennedy didn't acknowledge her right away, and Wanda, sensing the tension, slowly laid down beside her. She stretched out next to Kennedy, carefully leaning her head on Kennedy's stomach, letting herself relax in the quiet comfort of their shared space. Kennedy's hand was resting on her stomach, and Wanda slowly reached out, threading her fingers through Kennedy's, playing with them gently.

"Are you okay?" Wanda whispered softly, her voice full of worry and care. She felt the tightness in Kennedy's hand as she played with it, but Kennedy didn't respond immediately. Wanda kept her eyes on their hands, letting the silence linger between them.

Kennedy's voice broke the silence, low and tinged with frustration. "Why does everyone think they can control me?" she muttered, her words almost too soft to hear but filled with a quiet bitterness.

Wanda felt the tension in Kennedy's hand, the way her fingers tightened in response, and her heart ached. She gently squeezed her hand, trying to offer comfort, though she wasn't sure if it would reach her. "I don't think she's trying to control you" Wanda said softly, her voice calm, but the concern was evident. "I think she's worried about you."

Kennedy let out a frustrated sigh, her chest rising and falling with the exhale. She turned her head, glancing at Wanda but not fully meeting her eyes. "It feels like she just... wants to fix me. Like she thinks I'm still the same person who needs saving."

Wanda's fingers gently traced over Kennedy's hand, offering a sense of grounding. "You're not the same person, Kennedy. But that doesn't mean you don't still need someone sometimes. And maybe she just doesn't know how to show it without coming across as overbearing."

Kennedy's gaze drifted to the side, a mix of guilt and frustration shadowing her features. "Should I not have said those things to her?" she asked quietly, the weight of the argument still hanging in her chest.

Wanda didn't hesitate, her voice steady as she squeezed Kennedy's hand gently. "You were angry, Ken. She understands that. Sometimes words get thrown out in the heat of the moment, but it doesn't mean she doesn't get it."

Kennedy let out a long, exasperated sigh. "How do you know she understands?"

Wanda's fingers continued to trace over Kennedy's hand, offering a steady presence. "She thinks really loud" Wanda said with a small, knowing smile.

Kennedy shot her a side glance, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I thought you could control that."

Wanda shrugged playfully, rolling her eyes. "I can, but when it comes to you... it's a bit harder." Her voice softened at the last part.

Kennedy chuckled softly, the sound light and almost relieved. "Just say you can't stop thinking about me, Maximoff" she teased, her tone teasing but affectionate.

Wanda's eyes darted to hers, a playful roll of her eyes. "You're impossible" she muttered, but there was a fondness to her voice. "But honestly... she's scared."

Kennedy blinked, her curiosity piqued. "Scared of what?"

"Talk to her. Let her know you're okay. I shouldn't even be telling you this—it feels... invasive," Wanda admitted, her voice soft with a hint of guilt.

Kennedy's lips curved upward, the weight of everything feeling a little lighter. "Thank you" she whispered. Her hand shifted to gently tuck a strand of hair behind Wanda's ear.

Wanda smiled, squeezing her hand. "I'm gonna go take a shower and make us some dinner. I'll send her up for you" she said, her voice casual but gentle, trying to offer some sense of normalcy.

━━━━━

There was a soft knock on the door, and Kennedy, lying back on the bed with her eyes closed, muttered without looking up, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Sharon stepped inside, her expression hesitant but determined. Kennedy glanced over, catching the familiar sight of her older sister. Her lips curved into a wry smile. "Deja vu, huh?" she said lightly.

Sharon hesitated, looking like she was wrestling with her own thoughts. She closed the door behind her with a soft click and stood there for a moment, arms crossed, before speaking, her voice quieter than usual. "I don't want to argue again" Sharon said, her tone soft, but the weight of her words still hung in the air.

Kennedy just nodded, her gaze drifting back toward the ceiling, as though not fully invested in the conversation, but still, she was listening.

Sharon took a few cautious steps forward, her hands moving slightly as if trying to find the right words. "I should've never told you what to do like that. I'm sorry," Sharon said, her voice quiet, almost vulnerable. "It's just... I was scared, Ken. I didn't know what to do. And I—"

Sharon swallowed hard, her eyes flickering as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I've always sworn to protect you, you know? Always... but when you mentioned running, when you said you needed to be on the run with Wanda... it felt like you were throwing your life away. And I—" Sharon's voice faltered, her jaw tightening as she took a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do anymore, Ken. I don't want to lose you."

Kennedy's expression softened as she listened to the fear in Sharon's voice. She could hear the vulnerability in her sister's words, the unspoken fear that was weighing her down. The tension in the room thickened as the truth hung between them. Sharon wasn't just worried about her life or the things that had happened before; she was scared for what would happen if Kennedy went down this path with Wanda.

Kennedy sat up slowly, her eyes studying Sharon, the pain of the unspoken moments hanging in the air. "I'm not throwing my life away" she said quietly, her voice steady but with a hint of hurt behind it.

"You've made up your mind already, haven't you?" Sharon asked, her voice soft, the acceptance—and the resignation—in her words clear.

Kennedy nodded slowly, her eyes drifting away, but her voice was firm. "For the first time in the last four years, it finally feels like I have control of my own life."

Sharon sat down next to her on the bed, her hands wringing in her lap. She looked at Kennedy, her heart aching for the little sister she had left behind, the one who had been through more than anyone ever knew. "I'm sorry..." Sharon whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Kennedy turned her head slightly, the confusion in her eyes mixing with the sadness. "For what?"

Sharon swallowed hard, her eyes filling with regret. "For leaving..." She took a breath, her voice growing quieter.

Kennedy cut her off, her voice a little sharp but not unkind. "No, I wasn't mad at you," she said, her tone softening with the truth of her words. "You did what you thought was right. I get that."

But Sharon was shaking her head, the weight of something heavy in her chest. "No" she whispered. "For leaving you with him..." She paused, her voice faltering as she met Kennedy's gaze, the truth coming to light. "I saw the medical files, Kennedy. I know what happened. The reasons. Falling down the stairs... tripping... hitting your head..." Her breath caught, and she put her hand to her mouth for a moment before continuing. "He's my dad too. I know what he is."

Kennedy's heart squeezed as she listened to the words Sharon had been holding back. Her chest tightened, but she kept her voice steady. "We both know what he is, Sharon," she said softly. "He won't change. The last four years... he's been controlling my life. I don't get to make decisions. I don't get to choose. It's always been about what he wants."

Kennedy's eyes were glassy with the weight of everything, but her voice grew more resolute as she spoke. "I finally get to make a choice now. And I want to choose her."

Sharon's face softened, but a flicker of fear crossed her expression. She turned to face Kennedy fully, her voice quiet but insistent. "And what if she hurts you again?"

Kennedy's gaze dropped for a moment, the question cutting through her like a knife. But she lifted her chin, meeting Sharon's eyes, a quiet strength in her response. "I can't live my life in fear of what could happen. I've already lived that way for too long."

Sharon's face tightened, her heart heavy with the question that had been lingering in her mind. "How am I supposed to protect you, Ken," she said softly, her voice thick with the pain of not knowing how to help.

What was Sharon supposed to do if the hurt came from someone Kennedy loved?

Kennedy's heart ached at the question, the weight of her past pain flashing before her eyes. She took a breath, steadying herself before meeting Sharon's gaze, her voice calm but filled with conviction. "I have a lot of faith in Wanda" she said, the words slipping out with an honesty that surprised even her.

Sharon looked at Kennedy, and all she could see was that little girl again—the girl who had trusted too easily, who had loved too much, and who had been hurt because of it.

"You kept me safe for as long as you could," Kennedy said softly, her voice steady but filled with a quiet strength. "But now, it's my turn. I have to take this step. I can't keep living in the shadows of fear. I have to make my own choices, Sharon."

Sharon's eyes searched Kennedy's face, the vulnerability in them raw, exposed. "You really want to leave?"

Kennedy's chest tightened at the question, but she didn't flinch. "I can't keep living my life scared" she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the conviction behind it was clear. "If I do, I'll never get to live."

Sharon's breath hitched, the vulnerability in her eyes flickering with fear. She reached out, almost desperately, as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. "I'm scared to lose you again, Ken" she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. "I can't... I can't go through that again."

"I've beaten death like three times, Sharon" Kennedy said, her voice steady but with a quiet humor, a reminder of her resilience. "I think I can do it again." She smiled softly, trying to ease the heavy weight that had settled in the room.

Sharon chuckled weakly, wiping a tear that had escaped her eye. "Just promise me you'll check in" she said, her voice filled with a quiet plea. "Please. I need to know you're okay, no matter what."

Kennedy nodded, the corners of her lips lifting into a small, reassuring smile. "I promise. I'll keep you updated on everything," she said, her voice lightening a bit. "Until you get annoyed of me."

Sharon's eyes softened, and without another word, she pulled Kennedy into a tight hug. The warmth of her embrace enveloped Kennedy, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. "I forget you aren't a kid anymore sometimes" Sharon whispered into her sister's hair, her voice filled with a tenderness that only a sister could have. "But I'm proud of you. No matter what."

Kennedy squeezed her sister back, the weight of everything finally lifting, even if just a little. "I love you, Sharon," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too" Sharon replied, holding her just a little tighter. "And I always will."

━━━━━

Wanda and Kennedy were sitting at the kitchen bar, quietly eating their food. The atmosphere was comfortable, but Wanda couldn't help but glance over at Kennedy every few seconds.  Natasha, who had been quietly observing them, let out a small smile, catching the moment. Before Wanda could say anything, Natasha walked in with a duffle bag and casually dropped it onto the counter. "Alright, enough of the stares" she said, her voice calm but with a hint of amusement. She unzipped the bag, revealing its contents as she began to explain.

"I've got a cabin in Europe, hidden well enough" Natasha began, her tone practical, business-like. "This bag has everything you'll need to lay low for a while. Fake IDs, passports that'll last, and enough cash to keep you going. Most of the currency is already there, but let me know if you need more. Also, two untraceable burner phones." She paused, glancing over at Tony, who was sitting nearby, his usual smirk in place.

"All of this," Natasha continued, "made by yours truly," Tony added with a casual wave, clearly proud of the work he'd done. "You're very welcome" he added with a wink toward the pair.

Kennedy met Tony's gaze with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Tony" she said.

Tony gave a small, nonchalant shrug. "Anytime. I'd say good luck, but I'm not sure that's what you need."

Natasha stepped closer to the counter, folding her arms across her chest. "Anyways" she said, her voice dropping into a more serious tone. "I'll take you both to the Quinjet whenever you're ready to leave. But..." she hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking between Wanda and Kennedy, "I think it would be safer for you to leave sooner rather than later. Things might get more complicated if you wait too long."

Kennedy glanced at the duffle bag, then back at Natasha,  "Do you guys think we can pack some Hot Cheetos and Easy Cheese?" she asked, her tone light and playful. "I'm not sure they'll have them in Europe, and honestly, I think I'll need them for moral support."

Sharon facepalmed. "Really, Ken?" she muttered.

Natasha  let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You've got to be kidding me" she said, her eyes rolling dramatically. "You'll be fine without junk food for a while."

Maria, who had been silent up until now, leaned against the wall with a wry smile. "They're not going to make it" she said.

An: To Europe :) and that cute little cabin