𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 》𝖕𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖝𝖎𝖒𝖔𝖋𝖋

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙

"Technically, she's your daughter, Wanda."

The feeling dissipates as quickly as it came.

Wanda turns around sharply, her hand flying to her mouth. She's gonna be sick, she knows it. The room spins, her legs feel like jelly. She can faintly hear the doctor continuing to talk, but it fades into the back ground like static. Pietro places his hand on her back the other on her arm.

"Wanda, breathe." He whispers in her ear. A sob rips through her throat and is muffled by her hand, which has begun to shake. Her eyes remain dry, but stare off into space, unfocused. A daughter. A daughter? A daughter! Wanda cannot have a daughter. She's only 13 1/2- she's  still a kid. How can she have a kid? 

Pietro keeps his hand on her back, but turns to the doctor. "This is a complete breach of our, eh-" he stumbles over his words, grasping for the english equivalent. "privacy."

Dr. Chevolak shrugs. "I'm sorry, but I was only given orders. She doesn't need to be involved in the child's life whatsoever if she so wishes."

A strangled laugh startles the men, who turn to look at Wanda. A sad smile stretches across her face. "If I wish. So I get to choose something now? I get a say?"

The room is silent. The doctor shuffles his feet, Pietro rubs Wanda's back, and Wanda continues to sob dryly into her hand. 

"Chto proiskhodit, doktor?" "What's going on, Doctor?"

All heads spin once more to look at the little girl. Her hands now dangle limply at her sides, and her big, brown eyes are wide with worry. They dart between the three people furiously as she tries to make sense of the confusion. 

"Eto tvoya ma-" "This is your mothe-"

"No."

Wanda drops her hand to her side and lifts her head up sharply, stray tears rolling down her cheeks, forgotten in a moment of rage. "No, I am not."

The doctor looks anxiously between the twins. Pietro strains to do something, and finally he settles on the little girl. He takes a few steps forward and bends down to the girl's height.

"She doesn't know english." Dr. Chevolak reminds him, and Pietro waves him off.

"Privet." "Hello." 

The girl stares at the strange teenager. She looks to the doctor first for approval, and with his nod, steps forward to meet him. "Privet."

"Skol'ko tebe let?" "How old are you?"

The girl stands silently now, glancing quickly to the doctor, who clears his throat. "Technically speaking, she is only a few hours old."

Wanda suddenly turns, her brows furrowed inward. "That's impossible. She looks at least 4, maybe 5."

Dr. Chevolak sets his jaw. "That's what I wanted to tell you. Obviously, one cannot simply grow a human being just from DNA. She was volunteered by her biological mother, who is also an agent here. She was then injected with your DNA, Miss Maximoff- and the other soldier- and this completely redid her DNA."

Wanda crosses her arms in front of her, her brain trying to sift through the pieces of what is happening in front of her. 

"But how is that-" Pietro starts.

"She."

Pietro turns to his sister, her tone firm and assertive. Despite her age, her voice startles everyone in the room with it's ferocity. The girl jumps slightly, and instinctively takes a step back towards the doctor, the only familiar person in the room to her.

"Wanda?" Pietro says quietly, as if they're the only two in the room.

Wanda ignores her brother, stepping around him to face the doctor. "You keep calling her 'she'. What is her name?"

The doctor swallows. "She doesn't have one."

Wanda nods and steps back, seemingly satisfied with this answer. However, what no one could see were the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, the scream that begged to be released from her throat and ring off the walls, the punch she itched to land squarely on the doctors stupid face.

Even worse, the urge to tear the room to shreds using nothing but the red magic that did what she told it to.

 And that was the beginning. 

The twins wouldn't see the girl until 4 years later.