((ooc: After
Wanda's farewell to Steve.))Wanda arrived in the morning. She'd slept on the plane, strangely enough she'd found it much easier to sleep in the cramped seat, surrounded by the noise of the other passengers, than she had all alone in her silent home. The closeness of others calmed her. She spent little time in the airport...she'd
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Hell, he was worried about himself. He felt like he was going crazy. He couldn't figure out what in his head was real, what was his and what was his sisters.
And he still couldn't feel her. That part of his brain felt dead, and it worried him.
Finally his watch beeped, letting him know it was time to go downstairs to breakfast where he and the Wanda in her journal had agreed to meet.
He still doubted that this was his sister, but he hoped it really was her. He needed Wanda in his life more than the air he breathed.
He was jittery as he got to the cafe, his eyes darting around as if he was a bit paranoid. Then he saw Wanda sitting and he just looked at her.
She looked different. He couldn't figure out what it was, but there was something that was very wrong with her. But something that was very right too.
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Out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar movement. Wanda knew Pietro's mannerisms as well as she knew her own. She looked over and met his eyes. She calmly cocked her head, taking in his harried expression, the way his clothes seemed to hang on him. He looked ill. She nodded, placed her coffee cup down and waved him over. She thought she should be pleased to see him. But she felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
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There was nothing in her eyes. The fire she usually held was gone. Maybe that was why he couldn't feel her in his head.
"What happened to you?" he asked softly, not moving.
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"I broke."
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