#wanda question

Jessica’s breath catches in her throat. She glances in the direction Pietro disappeared in, but there’s no silver blur racing back. “Shit,” she mutters, as men pile out of the truck. There’s an octopus signature on their armbands, and they’re clad in full body armor.

Not that it’ll save them from what Wanda can do.

She hesitates, hands gripping the rooftop ledge tightly. She can take care of her goddamn self, she thinks ruefully. But there’s dozens of them, and when a second truck pulls up, Jessica’s heart leaps to her throat.

“Goddammit,” she mutters, making her way to the side and jumping into the alleyway. She lands softly enough that they don’t hear her, she’s always better at jumping down than up. She watches them from behind a dumpster, as they approach the door.

They kick it in, and things happen quickly. The agents stream into the building. Upstairs, Wanda appears in the window again. Even from here, Jessica can see the fear in her eyes. The hesitance as she stares at her hands.

She bolts out of the alleyway, heading straight for the building. The drivers yell, reach for the door handles and their guns, but she’s fast. Not as fast as Pietro, but fast enough to prevent the first one from getting out, to slam his hand in the door and then rip it off. She drags him out, and one good punch leaves him limp in her hands. The second driver grabs her from behind. She twists, cocks an elbow against his eye, then whips around to punch him, too. 

When she left, she thought Pietro would be the only to feel her fists. 

She races into the building. The men are upstairs, and she can hear screams and shouts and gunfire. She takes the stairs two at a time, skipping the ones that look too broken to hold her weight. When she gets to the room, Wanda’s hands and eyes are glowing red, and it freezes her for a moment.

Minds aren’t something you can goddamn play with! But Wanda doesn’t look like she’s playing right now. Even as more agents fall to their knees, clutching their skulls and wailing with agony, more stream forward. She grabs the nearest one, throws him backward, out of the room, against the wall. He yells, and they notice her.

Wanda’s eyes meet her for a moment, The red fades from her irises minutely. Jessica doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know she’s wondering what the hell Jessica Jones is doing here.

Jessica doesn’t know either. But she doesn’t waste anymore time.

A handful of agents turn their guns on her. They fire, but she ducks, lunging forward. She kicks the feet out of one, imitating what Nyssa did to her, slams her fist against his skull hard enough to feel it rattle against his helmet. There are bright waves of crimson flying everywhere, scorching the walls, and more agents are on their knees. Jessica slams one upside the head, if only to make the screaming stop.

There’s too many of them. Outside, she can hear another truck arrive, more boots on the stairs. They want these twins, and as much as she (sometimes) hates them, Jessica isn’t about to let that happen. The room is chaos incarnate, a whirlwind of fists and gunfire and scarlet jolts of goddamn magic.

They swarm her. She punches, kicks, tries to twist away. One of them jabs their gun against her head, her knees buckle, and then they’re dragging her up. 

“Stop! Or we kill your friend here,” a voice calls from behind her. The room stills. Wanda keeps her hands up, but the red glow fades from her fingertips. Men are still wailing. Jessica struggles, but her head swims, and there’s got to be five pairs of hands on her. 

“She’s not my friend,” Jessica hisses, still squirming. She can’t break free, even with all her strength. 

Wanda’s eyes are wide with panic and confusion. “Let her go,” she says slowly, taking a step forward.

The men tighten their grip. 

“Absolutely,” the man says again. He steps forward to meet Wanda, gun still in hand. “As soon as you come with us. Quietly, if you please.” His voice is sickly sweet. 

Wanda’s eyes narrow. “You’ll kill her anyway,” she says. Jessica’s heart thuds against her rib cage, not at the thought of dying, but because she knows Wanda has read his mind again. No one deserves that. Do they?

The man glances back at her. Jessica glares at him, wishes she had the energy to spit in his face. “She might prove useful,” he says. Then he lifts his gun, points it square in her face. “Your choice, Wanda.”

Jessica stares at the barrel of the gun, then up to Wanda’s gaze. Her eyes are bright red again, it sends a chill through her. She can see the thoughts whirling in Wanda’s eyes though. That hesitance. Time slows down for a moment. The wind whistles through the broken window, the one she’d been watching Wanda from. And that’s when she sees the silver blur on the horizon. Wanda’s back is to the window, she doesn’t know, doesn’t realize. But Jessica sees an out. For Wanda, anyway. 

“Don’t do it!” she yells suddenly, struggling again. The men have to readjust her grip. “Goddammit, Wanda, don’t you fucking dare!” she screams. She scoffs at the men. “You goddamn morons,” she seethes. Her eyes flick to Wanda’s again. ”That mind-reader would never sacrifice herself for a piece of shit like me.”

Hopefully, Wanda gets the message. Jessica clenches her jaw, then thinks one thought, loud and clear. The window. Pietro’s outside. Get out, while they’re distracted. 

Wanda shakes her head. Jessica thinks it louder. Get out before they take you and your goddamn brother. Do it for him. 

“Is that a no, Ms. Maximoff?” the agent asks. He walks forward, presses the gun against her throat. At least it will be quick.

Wanda hesitates, then lowers her hands. “Thank you,” she says, and a look of confusion crosses the agent’s mind. But Jessica feels relief surge through her. “Do what you must. But you will never touch me or my brother again.”

And then she’s gone. She leaps from the window – Jessica just has time to see the silver blur catch her, and then there’s a shot.

It hurts. But it in a way, it’s a good pain.