Honestly, Billy never thought he would ever see Wanda Maximoff again. And for a while he convinced himself that he was good with that--better off, even. Because trying to unravel life after the hex was a nightmare he never wanted to relive again.
He spent months trying to piece himself together. And for several years all he had to go on was a handful of online theories and a couple newspaper articles recounting the events around West View. He assumed at some point that if Wanda Maximoff was out there and wanted to come find him, she would. Which of course had to mean that she didn't.
He had been so angry and resentful, feeling like a puppy returned to the pound when it had outgrown its cute, that every time Agatha brought her up he said things that would probably be hurtful if she ever heard them. (she's not my mom.i dont care what happened to her.)
He was certain that he wanted to hate her because that was so much easier than missing her. In his defense, it wasn't like there was a manual on how to navigate life after your magic body dies and your soul gets transplanted into a dead boy.
Talk about teenage identity issues.
As if he didn't have enough on his plate trying to find his astrally missing twin brother, he was starting to hear insane rumors about Wanda now that he was in New York. Things about her fighting Dr Strange and Kamar Taj and going after the Darkhold.
The press had a natural way of painting her as a monster after more power, and while he didn't really know what to believe, there was always a part of him that had a hard time thinking the smiling woman in his memories wanted to kill people. He might have felt abandoned but he didn't think she was evil. Not in the way that villains are, at least.
When she first invited him to talk, he told Agatha he didn't want to but she practically bit his head off--which was weird because they weren't on the best terms. Either way, now he was standing here in the door way, fiddling with the silver band around his middle finger as he tried to ignore the very familiar scent of her perfume. It felt like he was walking into a house he couldn't see anymore. Which was comforting, but it was also really nauseating all at once. Like if he looked in the mirror right now he wouldn't recognize the face staring back at him. because it was never his.
"Uhm. I'll just stand here....for right now--if thats okay." he mumbled. Suddenly all the words that had been piled at the back of his teeth were no where to be found.
