Mort parked the motorcycle, while Wanda went to unlock the door. As she did, she thanked him for driving her home again. He said, “You’re welcome,” as he watched the little girl next door put the final touches on her chalk mural. Inside, Wanda offered to cook dinner, so Mort occupied his mind by rewiring the kitchen light fixture so it was safe to use.

“Mortimer,” she said, “I want to say thank you, for helping me these past weeks. It’s really meant a lot to me, to have you here. You’ve been so kind to me. I ... I don’t really know what would have become of me if you hadn’t been here to take care of me.” Wanda hadn’t looked up from the pot she was stirring while she spoke.

Mort froze standing on the chair under the light. He was facing Wanda’s back, and saw only her long hair, pinned back away from her face, falling down past her shoulders. What she’d said sounded almost like something from one of his fantasies. He had to wonder if she’d really said that, or if he’d suddenly lost his mind. Could she really appreciate him that much?

Wanda began to feel awkward at his silence. “I hope you don’t think that’s too forward or silly of me to say ...”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not at all. I ... you’re welcome.”

Wanda turned off the burners and took the food to the table. Mort replaced the light cover and sat down across from her, unable to take his mind off the words she’d just spoken. They ate in silence for a while, before Wanda asked him how it was.

“What?” He looked up as though he hadn’t heard her.

“How’s the food?”

“Oh. It’s excellent, Wanda. It always is.” She was looking at him with an odd expression. She seemed almost timid, but looking for something.

“I meant what I said earlier, Mort. I don’t think you know how you’ve helped me. And I don’t know why you’ve helped me. But thank you.”

“I’m glad you let me stay,” he said. And he added in thought, ‘I don’t know why I tried to help you either. But I can’t believe I almost walked away.’

They were silent again, until they’d both finished eating and had washed the plates. Wanda then found a seat on the couch, and Mort ventured to sit next to her. She seemed to be thinking for a moment, but then she said, “When I was a little girl, I would sometimes think about the house I’d live in when I was grown up. I never really thought about living outside of the little world I was in, with my adoptive parents and my brother. I just thought I’d grow up, marry someone, and live there forever. I never though I’d be living in a little apartment in Pennsylvania. With the universe’s Sorcerer Supreme making house calls, no less.”

“And a former teammate turned enemy as a roommate,” Mort added.

“No, I’m glad for that. And I’m glad we’re not enemies. We never should have been. What brought us to that in the first place?”

“You left the Brotherhood.” He left out the part about her getting married.

“Yes, that is where things began to fracture. Pietro and I had to leave that terrible situation. I’ve often felt so terrible for bringing him into that. I know he only stayed because of me, and I only stayed because I owed my life to Magneto.” She paused for a moment and then added, “In more ways than one, I suppose.”

“You didn’t owe him anything, Wanda. He owed you. He owed you your life.”

“I don’t want to think of that right now.” She rested her head against the back of the couch. “Tell me about your day.”

For a moment, it all seemed so commonplace, so domestic to Toad, that he thought they might be two normal people. If someone were to see them sitting there, they would see two people having a conversation after dinner. They could be a perfectly average couple, barely making ends meet, but enjoying the calm moments the were afforded. Moments like now, when Wanda casually asked him about his day, and he responded with the mundane story of what he’d done while she worked. No trace of Avenger, or adventurer, mutant activist, or even mutant.

After sharing their dull day stories, Wanda rose to go to bed. She said goodnight and locked the front door. Mort said he’d turn off the lights. She walked to the hallway, as she always did, but this time she stopped at the little step and looked over her shoulder. She smile at him, and continued down the hall.

- - -

Wanda wrapped the covers around herself as best she could to keep out the cold. It had been such a good day. From her bed, she could see the light from the living room peeking underneath her door. Mort was still awake. She took a sudden, deep breath, when she felt something she did not expect to feel. She sat up. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t good. Dr. Strange had been right, not wanting her to live with anyone. He’d been right not wanting her to leave Genosha. Now here she was all over again.

When she was watching for the living room light to go out, she realized what she’d been feeling all evening. She liked having Toad here. He was kind to her. They got along well. He made life more bearable. And she’d come to truly enjoy his company. Now, inevitably, something would happen. He’d die or she’d kill him or he’d suddenly hate her and leave. And she’d be left all alone again. But even more alone than before, because every time she lost someone it was worse.

Wanda forced herself to take a few deep breaths, and to hear Stephen’s voice again, telling her to breath, and to look at her fears instead of running away and hiding from them. After a moment, she tried to see her situation from someone else’s point of view. She was afraid. Yes, that was true. She was afraid of Mort leaving or dying or somehow being gone. Yes, that was true too. Why was she afraid of this?

She didn’t know.

No, she did know. Because without him she’d be alone. And because she liked him. She liked being around him. He was so much different now than before ... she probably was too. Well, of course she was. She hadn’t been insane back then.

Feeling a little less panicked, she looked again at the light under her door and suddenly hoped it wouldn’t go out. Her room would be dark then, and Mort would be asleep and unaware of her. She wanted to get out of bed and go to the living room and make sure he didn’t turn it out while she was still awake. It wouldn’t help for her to just turn the light in her room on. She didn’t want his light to turn off while she would know it.

She knew that when the light did go out, it would be for the simple reason of Mort going to sleep. People needed to sleep. That was true. They needed to save all the electricity they could. That was also true. So it made perfect sense that turning out the light to go to sleep was a completely normal thing.

But she saw the sliver of yellow light, and was so afraid of it going out. Wanda got out of bed, already dressed in her warmest night clothes, and left her room. She walked into the kitchen, took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Mort appeared in the open doorway.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m just having trouble falling asleep. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.”

Wanda didn’t want him to leave the kitchen. She wanted to ask him to leave the light on, but she knew that would sound ridiculous. Mort must have seen that something was wrong, because he stayed but didn’t say anything. “I just ...” she tried to think of something to say so he wouldn’t leave. Instead, she found tears welling in her eyes again. “I’m sorry, Mort.” She set her glass on the counter and brought a hand up to her eyes. “I’m such a mess.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, stepping closer. He even, slowly, put a hand on her shoulder.

In a moment, Wanda found her arms around his shoulders. She rested her head against his neck, and tried to keep her tears off of his shirt. Toad was tense and stiff at first, but returned her hug when his surprise subsided. They stood there for a time until Wanda moved away.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I know I’m being silly. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Well then, just stay out here. Here, come sit on the sofa and we can watch the snow on T.V.” He led her by the hand to the living room, and Wanda sat on the couch as he’d suggested. Mort turned on the television, that he’d recently found and re-created, and found a somewhat clear soap opera on. He unfolded the metal chair and sat down.

Both of them watched it uninterestedly for a while, until Wanda began to nod off. She was curled on her side, with her head on the arm of the sofa. Mort waited until her eyes had been closed for several minutes before he quietly turned off the TV, and carefully draped his blanket over her. She had a calm look on her face - not happy or sad. Even at the end of a long day, she looked beautiful with her hair curled around her face and her perfect skin free of any lines of worry. Mort crept away from her and made a bed on the floor with the other couch pillow and his coat as a blanket. He took one more look at her before he turned out the light and went to sleep, listening to her breathe.

- - -

The next morning, Wanda woke up startled. At first she didn’t know where she was and was afraid to move, but she soon recognized the living room and relaxed. She must have fallen asleep while Mort sat up with her. She felt the blanket fall off of her shoulders when she sat up, and wondered where Mortimer had slept. There was no trace of him that she could see.

She stood up, absently folded the blanket, and went to her room. Everything was as she’d left it the night before. Wanda dressed quickly and went back out into the living room. As she did, the front door opened and Toad came in. He carried a half-gallon of milk with him.

“Good morning, Mort,” Wanda said.

“Morning,” he replied. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She thought she should thank him for tucking her in, but she couldn’t think of an appropriate way to do so. So she simply thanked him for bringing the milk. Soon Wanda had to leave for work, and Mort offered to drive her. She didn’t like to use the gasoline, but the motorcycle didn’t use very much of it, and Mort often said it was safer riding a motorcycle than walking along the roadside. So she accepted and thanked him again. During the ride there, she held closer to him than she usually did. Even though the greater part of last night’s fear had subsided, she couldn’t shake the fear that Mort would disappear if she didn’t do something to keep him.

She recalled stealing a look at the summery Stephan had made of her mental disorders while they were on Genosha. Nihilistic Delusional Disorder was one of them. That is, the anticipation that friends, family, or extensions of the self no longer exist or will soon cease to exist. If only what she felt was as simple as it sounded. With her, it wasn’t just a delusion.

When Mort dropped her off, she thanked him again and didn’t walk inside right away. He’d pulled the motorcycle up on the sidewalk in front of the little restaurant, and had one foot on the pavement. “Are you going to be all right?” He asked her. Wanda could hear the concern in his voice. “You can take a day off if you need to. Don’t worry if they fire you. I have enough money to take care of both of us.”

She appreciated his concern. “I’ll be fine, Mort. Will you be here to pick me up?”

“What time are you off?”

“Six.”

“I might be late. But I’ll come if you don’t mind waiting.”

“No, I don’t mind waiting. I’ll be here.”

They said goodbye, and he left once Wanda was inside. She felt a little better knowing she could expect him at the end of the day. He wouldn’t break his promise to her, so things would be all right.

Her day went by quickly. She didn’t have time to eat between serving all her tables, but an elderly gentlemen (one of her regulars) gave her a large tip. After splitting her tips with the busboys, she still had enough to buy dinner somewhere. She stood outside next to a couple smoking co-workers, waiting for Mort. He was late, as he’d said he might be. But later turned into very late, and Wanda started to grow anxious. Twenty minutes became forty, and still no Mort. She was safe enough, despite the dark, standing right in front of the restaurant, but that’s not what worried her. What if her feelings had been a premonition? Or what if her fears had caused something to happen to him? That thought made her feel ill. She put her hand to her forehead and leaned back against the icy brick wall.

She tried not to think of anything, but clear her mind as Stephen had advised her. She’d never had much luck with that. It was so hard to keep every one of her swarming thoughts away. She opened her eyes as she heard a motorcycle pull up to the sidewalk a few feet away. Thanks to the gods. It was Mort. And he looked worried.

“Are you alright?” he said, stepping away from the running motorcycle.

Wanda realized how upset she looked. “I’m fine,” she said, walking toward him. “Really. I’m just hungry.” Mort didn’t look reassured in the slightest, and apologized for being so late. She told him it was fine. They drove back to the apartment, stopping along the way for dinner.

- - -

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Wanda caught herself wishing for some of whatever she’d been constantly drugged with only months earlier. Things were so confusing. She wanted to hold onto Mort tight enough to convince herself he’d never leave. But she didn’t even like him. Or at least, she didn’t use to. Toad had been low and a sell-out to anyone who’d have him.

No, she contradicted herself, that wasn’t true either. He’d been afraid, just like her. Afraid that people would stop wanting him around. He was afraid that he’d be alone, even though he was just as afraid of being with people. Just like she was now.

That was what was confusing. But if she didn’t do something, he would surely leave. And then she’d be alone because she’d managed to estrange even her dear brother. Her only sure friend in the world. And Mort understood. He understood almost everything. She couldn’t loose him.

Mort was in the kitchen, finishing the light he’d begun working on the day before. It was a simple job that he could have probably done asleep, so his mind was on other things. Namely, Wanda. He had no idea what was wrong, but he could tell that she was afraid of something. And she wouldn’t tell him what it was.

But last night, she’d said something he’d only dreamed of hearing from her. And then she hugged him. She had actually put her arms around him. Sure, she was probably just upset and wanted a little comfort; it probably had nothing to do with him. But he could remember the feeling of her arms over his, her hands on his back, her head on his shoulder, her ribs expanding when she breathed, and her hair brushing against his face.

That had been the very first hug anyone had ever given him. And from the Scarlet Witch, of all possible people. Now she was scared of something that he couldn’t fight for her, because he didn’t know what her monster was.

He finished screwing in the light fixture and walked to the living room. Wanda was sitting on the couch, looking down at her hands. She looked up and smiled when he came in.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” she said back.

Mort glanced at the clock.

“It gets late quickly, doesn’t it?” she said.

It was almost nine. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Am I in your way? Did you want to go to bed?”

He was tired. They kept hours like old people. Went to bed at ten, woke up at six. “No, it’s all right. Mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead.” Wanda moved over to give him room.

“How have you been today?” he asked with a genuine interest.

‘I’ve been lonely and scared all day,’ was her first thought. “I’m all right.”

“Sure?”

“Just tired.”

“Don’t want to sleep, though, huh?”

Wanda looked down the hallway. “I don’t like being so far away. My room feels like I’m locked in some isolated dungeon. I can’t even be near other prisoners.”

“A pillow’s still got to be better than a sofa arm.”

“No. Not when I’m all alone.”

“Do you want to stay out here again tonight?”

“Where did you sleep last night?”

“Oh, I was on the floor.”

“No, I won’t make you sleep on the floor. I’ll just grow up and learn to sleep in my own room.” Wanda tried to smile.

Toad cautiously reached for her arm, and gently held her wrist. Wanda let him, and she lay her head on his shoulder. Toad didn’t move to disturb her.

“I don’t like being scared all the time,” she whispered.

Mort wanted to say something comforting, but didn’t know what would help. His solution to being afraid was to be indifferent. Though even that wasn’t foolproof, and it would hardly suit Wanda. So he simply said, “I don’t like you being scared all the time either. What are you afraid of? What can I do?”

“I’m afraid something’s going to happen to you. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you, or you’ll leave me, and then I’ll be all alone again. I’m afraid this won’t last.”

He knew he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t keel over and die unexpectedly. Things happened. He could only promise what he could control. “Wanda, I’m not going to leave you. I won’t leave unless you ask me to.”

“Please, don’t even go then. I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll say something without thinking and you’ll leave. Don’t leave me even if I ask you to ”

“All right, I won’t. I won’t leave.”

“Please, promise me.”

“I promise.”

Wanda hadn’t lifted her head from his shoulder. Promises didn’t make a difference. “It’s late. I should go to bed.”

“Oh, right.”

Wanda sat up, and Mort helped her to her feet. They walked down the hallway together, Mort pausing when they came to her bedroom door. She was still holding his hands, and she lead him in. He’d actually never seen her room but a couple times in passing. He’d never been inside.

“You’re room’s cold,” he remarked.

"It’s the window. It’s cracked.”

“You should have told me; I’d have fixed it for you.”

“Yes, I probably should have.” Wanda was looking away from him, still holding both of his hands in front of her. She looked, to Mort, like she was afraid the world wouldn’t be there in the morning if she went to sleep tonight.

To Wanda, it might not. She never knew. Besides, even if it was, she’d have to go through hours of nightmares before morning came. She looked at Mort in the eyes. She could see worry in his face. She’d seen worry before. Worry marred the distinguished features of Dr. Strange whenever he looked at her, and worry paired with regret was in her father’s constant gaze. She didn’t want worry. And she didn’t want to be alone.

She drew Mort close again, so that their faces were almost touching. She let go of his hands to move hers to his back. Mort didn’t reciprocate her movements. He was still and stunned. But Wanda wasn’t. For the first time all evening, she knew what she was doing.

Resting her addled head against his, she traced the muscles in his back and lead him closer to the bed. She heard him swallow, but she knew he wouldn’t object. There were at least a few things in her life she could control. She sat back on her bed and, arms around Mort, brought him with her.

As she predicted, he didn’t resist her. Mostly because he was so surprised, but also because he didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Or at least, what seemed like a good thing. A part of his mind told him that no good could come from this, and that Wanda was just lonely and easily manipulated. But no amount of cold logic could outweigh Wanda’s warm body wrapped around his.

She lay her head back on the pillow and finally, Mort’s shaking hands found their way to her waist. Her fingers slid down his back and under the hem of his jacket. The greater part of him didn’t want any of it to stop. But, despite his rising heart rate, it seemed too sudden to believe she was sincere. “Wanda ...” he whispered. But she shushed him, bringing her lips so close to his that he thought she would kiss him. She didn’t, though. She had him close, and she wouldn’t sleep alone tonight. That was all that mattered.