[the question draws back on her a touch. it certainly is like clint to draw the attention away from himself, from how affected he feels, to those around him. wanda knows the gears are turning in his head, of possibility and circumstance and actions that he will take, but for all the men in her life who have trouble putting thoughts into words, clint's she understands best.

clint's she can be forgiving about, especially when he asks a question she is sure others have phrased towards her in similar terms.

instead of answering it directly, her delivery is a little telling, at first, as if she expects others to have her explain her onset of happiness in this world, despite the trauma of losing vision (and her sons and pietro) being so relatively recent in her heart.]

Maybe one day Pietro will be brought here. [she turns her head, looks out at the trees, a small smile on her features.] Maybe Vision will find himself hating the way politics work here, butt heads with leaders of the factions to talk about peace rather than an impending war.

[maybe her sons might be able to exist here without needing a hex to keep them sentient and alive.

she draws a breath, back straightening. she thinks of those whom she's gained here, despite everything. her little family in this very farm, those friends she's made when she never was able to back home, those loved ones she thought she'd never see again, and someone she could see herself breaking the laws of the multiverse for if just to spend a single day with him in new york.]

I know I can't run away from what I've done forever, [lagos, westview, the multiverse—] but no one's afraid of me here despite it.

[wanda turns her mouth to the side, mulling over her thoughts. more so than happy, perhaps...]

I feel loved here.

[and isn't that what wanda's ever wanted?]