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IF MARTHA MAXIMOFF HAD A PENNY FOR EVERY TIME SOMEONE SHE KNEW DID SOMETHING STUPID, SHE'D BE A MILLIONAIRE. She married Django Maximoff for crying out loud, she was bound to have some type of stupidity in her life.

Wanda reminded her so much of Django. The stubbornness, the wit, the passion, everything about her came from him.

As she placed the phone down, she swore. "Shit." She muttered. Wanda said something bad had happened and something was coming. She sounded petrified. She sounded so much like the young fifteen year old that knocked on her front door frantically. She sounded like the girl who cried for being gone for years. 

Walking into her bedroom, Martha grabbed her gun that was under her pillow, a precaution she took due to the fear of losing her only blood. She turned to stare at the mirror, her own reflection glaring back at her. Her eyes were puffy, possibly due to her crying, and her lips were trembling. Closing her eyes, the British woman took a few breathes, in out, in out. She needed to be strong. She needed to be the mother her daughter needed.

Her white blouse hung from her petite figure elegantly and her black trousers were worn in style. She applied her red lipstick and finally completed her look with a badass pair of red sunglasses (despite it being November). Black boots complemented her look and she was ready to do whatever her possibly insane daughter wanted to do. Her gun was in her bag and she was ready to go. All of the sudden she heard the doorbell ring. Her stance stiffened as she walked closer to the door. Something wasn't right.

She could make out a figure standing in front of the door. The figure was tall and skinny and was definitely a female. But then she heard the female's voice and immediately recognised it.

"Um hello?" The female called out, banging on the door. "Is Wanda there?"

It was Kate Bishop, Wanda's closest friend. It was the same Kate who became Wanda's first companion. Martha immediately opened the door, Kate just walking in.

"Hello?" Martha's pristine voice rang.

"Hi," Kate turned to the woman. "Have you seen Wanda? She like totally promised that she was going to be here so we could like, you know, hang out." The girl was awkward in demeanour, she had many cuts on her face, some fresh and others old. Bandaids littered her face like paint to a canvas. But by frankly she was very pretty.

"She's not here." Martha simply stated, trying to pass the girl who had begun to block the front door. "Excuse me?"

"You're lying." Kate replied, her face blank. "Where is she?" She tested, her posture standing tall.

"Well she's at The Byers' house for some reason. I was just going to get her." Martha tried to get the girl to move once more, only for her not to.

"Then I'm sure I can come," Kate persuaded, her lips curling up into a smile. Kate either way was coming because she was simply too stubborn. Martha understood why she was Wanda were best friend, they both shared the common trait of stubbornness.

𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 | 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻Where stories live. Discover now