explosion | RUBILYKSKOYE INBOX.

[ He gives it a few days. Lets the air clear a little around the All Sight, lets himself figure out what's going on with the red mist and the deserted streets. When he goes on his walks around down -- casing the joint for burglaries or just trying to get to the clinic and the brothel -- he keeps an eye out for Wanda. When he sees her, he stops to watch from a distance, but he doesn't interfere. Not until he's figured out a plan.

As it turns out, the plan is simple. He wanders out into the town until, eventually, he finds himself in the square in front of the tavern, where they'd held the talent show so many months ago. It's strange to be in such a big empty space, but he doesn't stop to take in the view. He hitches his way across to a stone bench in the middle of the square. Sets down his cane and slings the acoustic guitar off his back. A strum to check the tuning, adjusting his fingers, then he sets his right foot on the bench like an old time-y bard. ]

Ladies and gentleman, [ he announces to the empty square, but also reaches out to Wanda's space in his mind and heart. ] This is Wandawall.

[ Then he launches into it, singing loud across the square and into Wanda's thoughts. ]

Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you,
And by now, you should've somehow realised what you gotta do,
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now..

[ The problem is House belongs in her picture-perfect idea of a perfect life. She knew this before the Void, and she knows it after the Void. He fits.

He fits inside what she wants Rubilykskoye to be.

If he's here, her boys can be here. Everything everyone had in the Void can be here. He's one of the things that doesn't need fixing here.

It's hard to ignore him, even though some of Wanda wants to. Instead, she comes, much like he's the siren and she's the sailor, but Wanda doesn't believe he'll try and drown her. He's not that type of man.

Her smile isn't what it would be under any other circumstance; it's small, sad, because she knows what he's doing. He's rejecting everything, just like others are. ]

What are you doing, Grishka?

[ She asks it softly, knowing he'll hear her even if the song is louder than the volume of the town. ]

[ Stubborn as always, he's here because he wants to be, not just because he fits into whatever she's got planned for the place. But also maybe because she wants him to be. Either way, he's not moving.

Wanda shows up in time for him to sing you're gonna be the one that saves me as she walks across the square, which House decides to take as a personal victory of dramatic timing as well as potential romance. He plays it out and slides down into an instrumental section quiet for the two of them to talk over. ]

What does it look like? I'm 'Say Anything'-ing you. But I didn't have a boombox. So, guitar. This is your cue to tell me how wonderful and romantic I am.

[ The talent of Wanda Maximoff Productions, sometimes known as the Maximoff Anomaly. ]

You are wonderful and romantic.

[ —said with a soft smile. Even as desperate and lost as she feels at times since returning to town, House makes her feel normal.

When she's so used to feeling weird and the outlier in a group, it's nice and different to feel normal.

And as much as she wishes to grasp that with her hands… she decides to notice the elephant in the room. Knowing House, it's inevitable he acknowledges it. (Sometimes she likes to beat him to the punch.) ]

But you're not afraid?

[ Everyone else is, in some way. More so, similarly so to before they left for the Void. ]

No.

[ It's not even a lie. She can even look into his mind and check if she wants to. He stands before her, lightly strumming the guitar, open and vulnerable like a flower before the sun. Truthfully, he hasn't been afraid since the first time he woke up after becoming a monster and murdering multiple people. He's beyond afraid, now. In some bleak, uncharted territory or trauma response where nothing hurts and everything is just fine.

On the positive side, it means he doesn't care what Wanda does to him. He's not scared. He just wants to help her out, like she helped him out.

Frowning gently, he studies the woman standing in front of him. ]

Are you?

[ Quietly, ] Yes.

[ She can lie to him, but she doesn't want to. Even when it hadn't been real, he'd been there with her through thick and thin, when it would've been easier for him to turn around and leave. His life was simple before she entered it.

It's still the truth now, even though Rubilykskoye has made it difficult for them all in different ways.

She tents her fingers and fiddles with them. ]

They're all going to hate me for this.

[ Different century, same story. It starts with fear and transforms into its own monster. Wanda calls it hate. ]

A little late to worry about that.

[ House's brand of comfort isn't usually very comforting. For a man who spends so much time avoiding the truth, he knows how to dispense it to make a point. Here, in the empty courtyard, he doesn't see any reason to continue to lie to her.

He watches her carefully. His gaze is thoughtful and sharp, blue against the red. ]

What did you do with them?

[ Why does everyone wonder where the villagers are? They're safe. She preferred to protect them from the town than the Void-touched. ]

I relocated them somewhere safe.

[ She regards him plainly for a moment, her expression relaxed. Wanda's no longer worried. The Rubeans are safe. That much she's confident in.

It's getting what she wants, restoring the town to something better than what it was before, that has her losing her nerve. ]

Do you think I did something horrible to them?

[ It's unfair to ask, but Wanda sometimes enjoys being unfair. ]

I think if I asked them, they'd say yes.

[ Evasive, but it's an answer. House watches her carefully, still strumming gently, though the form of the song has dissolved into a soft and thoughtful tune with no particular destination. ]

They're going to be pissed when they come back. Assuming you're going to let them come back.

I'm not a monster, Gregory.

[ Her voice is firm as she tilts her head. Hasn't she said this repeatedly since a certain someone's arrival?

Wanda doesn't bother to address whether she's upset by the idea of the townspeople's anger. Different town, same pitchforks. At least this isn't on a national scale that has her face posted on the television.

He knows her well enough to know how devastating it'll be. ]

I'll let them back when the town is fixed. This is for them, too. I can make everything better.

That's what Mussolini said. Something about making the trains run on time.

[ His sympathy has never been a gentle thing. He tries, though, for her. Makes his words soft if not blunt, like maybe that way it'll be easier for her to face the reality she doesn't want to imagine. The truth hurts; if nothing else, he knows the value of pain. If he has to live with it every day, so does everyone. Even the people he cares about. Perhaps especially those people. ]

They won't care. [ His voice is low. The music from the guitar falters and goes silent. ] From one monster to another, most people don't care when you try to do good things if you've already shot your load doing something bad. You could work yourself to the bone trying to fix things, but they'll only ever focus on the ways you disappointed them. The things you did wrong. So you need to stop trying to please them. You can't.

[ Wanda knows this, and yet…

No one's ever bothered to say it to her before.

Steve approached it with optimism. They'll come around. You're not alone. You didn't do anything wrong. Natasha always considered a pragmatic approach. Pietro… he wouldn't stand for any of this.

But she knows all this, because she tells herself it all the time. She simply likes to dress it up with a glass half full.

She doesn't think to answer him and hopes her lack of response is enough of a response. ]

Are you disappointed?

[ She tugs her brows as her heart beats too rapidly for her liking. ]

No.

[ Even if he was, he wouldn't tell her. After a beat, House sets the guitar down on the bench he's been leaning against and reaches for her instead, as offering to accompany her onto the dancefloor. ]

You're weird. You were weird when we met. Right before I went nuts and killed a bunch of people because I was in too much pain to stay human. [ His brows knot as he frowns over those memories. He doesn't talk about his first transformation much, if at all. Whenever he turns back to it in his mind, his thoughts end up full of skirling snow and the black scrape of frozen blood. ]

You're in pain, Wanda. Right?

[ She takes his hand, sweeping her fingers along his palm as though she can feel the pulse of his lifelines. She looks at the underside of his delicate wrist. ]

I don't know. [ It's as honest of an answer she can give him. He's the only one who's gotten honesty from her so far. Wanda likes to project she's perfectly fine. It's how people prefer her to be: fine. ] I've felt this way for a long time.

[ Dramatic, she knows, but those waves she'd described to Vision so long ago still swirl around her. Sometimes, they're soft; sometimes, they're vicious. Despite how weird Gregory finds her, the waves are often at their softest around him. ]

The Void gave me what I wanted. [ She shrugs helplessly, peering up at him. ] I can give anyone anything they want. Why can't I have them?

[ Easy. Balance. They're no longer hers to have. ]

[ The fact that she could do practically anything to him at this point -- knock him out, throw him across the square, change or obliterate him from existence with a wave of her hand -- doesn't phase House. He's been playing with risks like that for a long time, even before he came to Rubilykskoye. He goes through life sticking knives in electrical sockets. Danger isn't something he shies away from. If she's weird, they're weird together.

He looks down at her, sorrow softening the edges of his expression. He may not be able to give her those easy and comforting lies, but he can sympathise with that wanting. ]

Because life is tragically unfair. [ He lets her look at his hand. Then he reaches up with the spare, ghosts the backs of his fingers over her cheek, brushes a wayward curl of hair aside from her face and tucks it behind her ear. ]

Good people die. Bad people go on surviving. The universe takes, and it doesn't give back. You can't do this forever, Wanda. I know addiction when I see it. It's not something you can sustain forever.

[ Her face crumbles.

She's never considered it like that. Is it addiction? Wanda wonders what it is she's addicted to. It certainly can't be power—she didn't have this kind of juice when she was eleven and hiding under the bed. Can someone be addicted to feeling like the world is toppling over them again and again?

Without thinking, Wanda steps into him and wraps her arms around him and presses her cheek against his chest. He's not Vision—and he'll never be Vision; his voice is too gravely and his words are too sharp—but she likes that. ]

Sometimes I hate it here.

[ Reminders of what she's tried to escape keep infiltrating what should be a safe and protected bubble. ]

But I don't hate that you are here.

[ There's no question over what he's going to do when she steps forward into his arms. House lets out a breath that's half sympathy and half relief and hugs her close, only a little clumsy for lack of practice at comforting people. He rests his chin lightly on top of her head. She seems small in his arms, too small to have changed the world. But he knows how these things work out. ]

The thing is, I don't hate that you're here either. Even when you turn everything into tomato soup.

[ He strokes a hand over her back, up and down. ]

If it helps, you're not the only one going crazy.

RUBILYKSKOYE INBOX.

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