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[unquiets]

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"You've reached David. Leave a message after the tone."

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[unquiets]

( quickly, agreeable, perhaps too quick, given everything— )

We can.

( and she'll find a house, not particularly special, with very little of interest. too many doors, too much silence, all of it deliberate. )

I went through yours, so you can go through mine.

[carmesi]

( too quick— but then, a lot of the affirmations and decisions between them have always been quick. is this not the usual tempo? something feels off, but wanda has no reason to distrust him. )

Okay. Whenever, it's not a big deal.

( pause, and, )

You agreed pretty quickly.

( 'why', david had asked, defensive. and yet. )

[unquiets]

You asking makes it seem like a big deal.
It's a door that's not a door.
We can go through, doesn't mean you're going to get the answers you're after.

( punctuated by a pause, not quite equal to hers. )

I could disagree, but it wouldn't change where we're at so. Yeah. I agree.

[carmesi]

I'm not looking for answers. I'm just curious.
I don't want to do things that you don't want to do. I've never connected with someone like this before. With my mind, I mean.

( she isn't sure how she is trying to come across, so— )

Nevermind. Whatever. If you agree, then okay.

[unquiets]

( her reply elicits a pause, a see-saw of internal debate like he's trying to work out what it means and isn't quite managing to settle on an answer. )

What do you mean, you're not looking for answers?

( while david would never say he's looking for answers, the fact that he can't quite comprehend what she means says that answers is precisely what it comes down to for him. understanding. making sense. )

If I don't want to do something, you'll know.

( abrupt, not precisely brusque, just— this is what it boils down to.

softer, gentler— )

I've never met anyone like you.

[carmesi]

I don't know what I mean.

( honesty, at least, is what david will get out of her. wanda isn't sure what she means, and this has all been rather spontaneous; she's crammed so much in her head yesterday, last night. she tried revisiting that garden they had been in once they got back to the apartment (she hasn't told him, because she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, but wanda sure dropped in through a telephone box). it's new, exciting, and weird, but in a way that it makes sense— and sense is something she's been trying to find for so, so long.

at the very least, david makes her feel, with what it boils down to, that this is another point of understanding they've reached, without the bells and fanfare of accomplishment. it's impossible, too, to ignore the softer, gentler way his words reach her.

he has shared a similar sentiment with her before, spoken or shared telepathically? empathically? wanda can't remember. )

What do you mean by that? You've met Charles.
There are other telepaths here. Other mutants.

[unquiets]

It's not the same.

( it's a feeling as much as it's a thought. charles is a telepath. he's telekinetic, too, by all accounts, and from the brief experience of charles's mind that david's had, david knows he's powerful. perhaps not in all the ways that david's powerful — telepathy had been about all charles had focused on, and he'd admitted that telekinesis was new, either the result of here or a latent ability newly discovered, but— his telepathy had been strong, controlled in a way that david's isn't quite.

(he might be powerful, too, but his is— it's more about reality.)

and other mutants? whatever. they don't get it. so what if scott can shoot lasers from his eyes, that's not the same. he knows that. syd didn't get it. ptonomy, maybe. oliver had been the closest. )

You know it's not, otherwise you'd be hanging out with your Avengers, not some guy you just met.

[carmesi]

You're the one who wanted a friend.

( she says that, but she doesn't mean it. another attempt at humor that doesn't quite land, off-beat. a defensive measure, perhaps, to shield herself from the fact that david knows well enough that wanda, too, felt the same: wanting a friend, even if she already had plenty.

but you're different, and yet so — weirdly familiar. comforting? similar? she had admitted as much the night before: she didn't like being alone, and then there was david, of all the people it could have been, tugging at this rope of a connection—

and wanda let it. still for reasons mostly unknown. just a feeling? feelings? )

No. You're right.
Why do you think that is? It's—

( she cuts herself off. starts again, )

We'll figure it out. Right?

( wanda doesn't work well with uncertainty. )

[unquiets]

( it's a small difference between them. david doesn't like uncertainty, but he's used to it in his own way. doubt, questions, creeping like tendrils along each and every thought. he'd prefer certainty, has found a way to force it on his life, but that doesn't erase thirty years of the opposite, of looking to other people for answers and, when none were found, burying the questions where they couldn't be seen out of fear.

you're the one who wanted a friend stings. it's not meant to. he doesn't know that, but he thinks it. everything that follows isn't enough to offset the way that those seven words cast a shadow, uncomfortable and dark, even if david knows they're not true. it's not just him. they wouldn't have— the apartment, the stars, everything else, if it was just him.

he's silent for longer than is necessary. petty, childish.

then— )

Do you want the answer?

[carmesi]

( unfortunately for david, wanda feels the emotions as they are tethered together. he doesn't say anything, toss anything her way, but there it is. the silence, something ugly—

wanda drops an egg by accident, distracted. shit, muttered, as she looks for a wet towel to clean the floor of yolk and egg white and shell. as she's cleaning up the mess, his answer-question comes.

she ponders this for a brief moment. )

Only if you tell me why you feel the way you're feeling right now.

[unquiets]

( what?
sharp, reactive, uncertain. tell what now? no, he doesn't like that—. back and forth, like a ping pong ball. tap tap tap bounce, then calm, then silence. (or silence then calm, it's hard to tell the difference when one is forced into the other.) presence and then absence— )

Sorry?

[carmesi]

( the tension is there, sudden, disrupting that dark cloud of emotion from right before she asked him to tell her why he was feeling the way he was. sharp, reactive, uncertain. david doesn't like it. with an exhale, she stands and tosses the ruined egg in the sink, washes it away with water from the tap—

(here it is, the reason he's going to point to and say listen, a great time, but— this is too much. emotions? not just my thoughts? and reconsider this whole arrangement. it's an invasion of privacy, one she has learnt to either keep to herself or told that she needs to not do. but they, she and david, they had agreed to — connect, their powers, their minds, so how exactly was she supposed to disguise it? is she just supposed to ignore when his emotions scatter from one extreme to the other, when he's her friend and wanda wants to understand and make right—?)

she stares at all the ingredients for the waffle batter, feels herself deflating. how to best respond... honest but hesitant, )

How you are feeling.
I can tell.

[unquiets]

( in person, it'd be a spike — still is, like this, only there's no visible sign of david's attention darting from one object to the next, grasping at something to make tangible. an explanation, words to form just the right shape so that his emotions make sense, aren't just something volatile, formless. impulsive. david is good at surface calm (sometimes, less often than he'd like, than he'd admit), but—.

an echo of before, earlier. )

That's cheating.

( david can't tell. feelings. all he gets to work with are thoughts. he gets to interpret them into something that makes sense to him based on all the other ones that surround them, the half-formed, cloud-like, wordless sentiments, and the sentences that get thrown from mind to throat to tongue to sitting behind teeth before it's decided they're better off staying that, that being released into the world would be the equivalent of a mistake.

it's not fair that she gets both. is there a way to block it? his feelings, like there's a way to protect his thoughts? would she be hurt? )

You made it sound like it wasn't a choice, being my friend.
I can force things. People. Reality.
I know that.
That's not friendship though.
So...
What do you think? It's not exactly a funny joke.

[carmesi]

( there, and wanda's catching on. he's formulating other things, not lingering on her specifically, but parallel enough. she forces her eyes shut, because it doesn't help her to continue feeling what he is; she closes off, from her end, just so she can focus on his words, leave everything else behind. )

I don't do it on purpose.

( catching on to his emotions? saying the things she does, the way she does? maybe both. she's terrified (stop being afraid) of leaving herself so open and vulnerable to disappointment. these defenses, happening almost on reflex. )

My brother was my best friend. My heart. Even before we got our powers, it was like we could read each other's thoughts. We had other friends, but it was normal to never see them ever again. I never took it well. I had to — build a wall. Pietro let me, so that he could feel everything and my words would never hurt him.

( wanda is not trying to cheat, mentioning this sad truth about her past, to make him be gentler with her. she said something wrong, she now recognizes, and he is right to feel some what about it. )

With you it's easy to joke in a similar way. But you're not Pietro. I know. It's just easy to be comfortable with you, so I forget.
Of course it was a choice. You don't have to force me to like you.

( you can't, goes unsaid. )

I can stop, too. The emotions. Feeling them.

( it's going to take some effort from her part, which she thought that she didn't have to work on anymore, after connecting with him in the astral plane. but, if that evens out the playing field— )

[unquiets]

( I don't do it on purpose. he knows that! he's been there, decades of it, the unintended and unknown. actions, consequences. something and then blame. quickly, there's a flash of a thought, of what she'd said to him — "you can't hide behind that forever", and he thinks of reminding her. it's easy, isn't it, to offer up. an excuse, a reason, those that wasn't how I meant it. he knows, too, what it's like to have that thrown back in his face, told that it doesn't count.

what she had with pietro, he didn't have with amy. she was grounding, sure, a beacon of normality amongst everything else. not exactly hope because he'd known, even when she said otherwise, that she didn't ever really believe he'd have what she had — the house, the life, the family — but she'd been good at pretending. she couldn't read his thoughts, and it'd been better like that.

so this, with wanda, doesn't have a parallel. not with amy, not with syd, not with lenny. it's different, which is good. which is annoying. )

I'm not asking you to change who you are.

( first and foremost. )

What you can do. That'd be going back on my word.

( the whole you're not broken thing, the idea that she doesn't need to be fixed. )

But that doesn't mean I don't get to feel things. Not like... secrets. I don't like those.
But

Emotions are a journey, right? And sometimes that's what matters, the path, and sometimes it's about the destination.
Don't decide for me which is more important.

[carmesi]

( with another exhale, wanda shifts, shoulders straightening, and starts mixing the ingredients: dry first, then with the wet ones— as she whisks, she releases the tension she held on her ability to feel, too, emotions. i'm not asking you to change who you are. it's probably for the best that he found out, even if... like this. )

It felt like I upset you.

( earlier, a few minutes ago. )

Just — tell me if I do. I won't read into it again.

( and perhaps someone should tell them that it's easy to get a little lost with such an open connection like this. what thoughts are your own? which ones aren't? for wanda, where do her emotions end and david's begin? for now, at least, his just feel sharper: like cymbals being hit again and again.

but perhaps it says something, that more so than getting 'the answer' from david, or whatever he was going to say about it, wanda preferred to figure out first what she had done to make him feel the way he had. it's a small thing, not perfect, but says something about her. )

[unquiets]

You're reading into it now.

( it's not meant unkindly. there's even a laugh, short and dry, but it's there. )

Sometimes thoughts are just thoughts and feelings are just feelings. They don't always mean something — well, not anything that requires action.

( it says something about david in return, that he doesn't say whether she'd upset him or not, that he doesn't quite answer her question that isn't a question. it doesn't even occur to him, the difference between her asking why instead of just apologising — the why of something has never played much of a role in david's life, outside of broad strokes. and so wanda will find that david's emotions are always like this — loud, sudden, changeable.

he's made efforts to change that, at least on the surface. perception. up until now, here, lenny had been most privy to how little that control extended to beneath the surface, even with the house, but how do you hide your thoughts and feelings from someone that can be in your head?

(well— defences.)

a delay, then, david's attention drifting elsewhere for a second, two, then finally— )

I'll tell you. And we can have conversations, and then we can move on.

[carmesi]

( there's a bit of a twist at him telling her that she's reading into it now. yes, wanda realizes, that's true; so, she stops. the thing about being a telepath that no one ever tells you about, be it reading thoughts or emotions or memories or anything in between and beyond, is that despite all this information, it is the receiver who has to interpret—translate—what it all is; parse through the information, figure out what to do with it. most people are simple and straightforward. david isn't most people. be it because of his powers, the 'sick' he had been labelled as (he had told her he isn't), all this farouk business—

it's not as uncomplicated.

it also feels like open honesty goes well with david, even if wanda is someone who would rather wrap her honesty in prickly jokes or behind a non-contest such as drinking a whole glass of wine to prove a point. )

That's what friends do. So. Sounds good to me.

( which brings her down to maybe figuring out an answer to his 'what do you mean, you're not looking for answers?' from before. )

You asked me why I'm not looking for answers. I don't care to solve things like they are problems to fix. I just want to know more about you. It feels like I learn more about myself and my powers by being around you. But I told you before, if all I ever end up learning is about you and stars, and play a card game together that we'll probably cheat at, then that is enough for me.

( two telepaths playing a card game about deceit... there's some humor in her words, though. )

So, yeah. You're different, too.

( 'i've never met anyone like you,' in her own terms. vision comes close, because of this connection between them, through the mind stone. but vision isn't here, and their fight in the german airport felt like a rupture too scary to consider reconciling, from her perspective. )

[unquiets]

( it's an odd answer, one that david can't help but read a because into — but then, ultimately, isn't that the point? david had first invited himself to help wanda hand out care packages at the motel out of self-interest, and had then forced the conversation towards — well, honesty, obstensibly, but also admission. something wanda wouldn't have offered up on her own. david doesn't feel as if he learns anything new about himself or his powers by being around wanda, but it's because she has them that they're now this — whatever they are.

as he'd said, he doesn't like being alone. )

We? I don't cheat at card games.
But it's good to know you do.
Lets me know what to look out for.

( 'different' is a term he has mixed feelings on. it'd been the safe descriptor, when people hadn't actually wanted to say what they thought was wrong with him. 'oh, don't mind david, he's just ... different', said in that way where it didn't matter that most people aren't psychic, can't read minds, they'd all known what had been meant anyway.

different-difficult-challenging-a problem to be fixed
(even if wanda says she doesn't care about problems)

the response at first is a mild hum, contemplation, vague. )

I preferred it when I said 'special'.

[carmesi]

( wanda knows that david knows what she means, about the cheating. so, she doesn't take it to heart, instead figuring that this is just him being light about it; they'll play, whenever he buys the card game proper, and wanda will clock him for reading her thoughts. it'll be fine—

as she cleans up the counter and stores the ready-to-use batter in the fridge, wanda's brow pinches and then relaxes, laughing despite herself.

she also didn't mean all that extra baggage that comes with the word 'different'. different is not unkind, in her book, because she considers herself the same. )

Do you want me to call you 'special'?
I can get you some gold star stickers, too.

[unquiets]

( she should laugh more, he thinks, before (as)— )

What do I have to do to earn a star? Is there a prize at the end?

[carmesi]

I already got you some prizes.

( in the cereal, but he can ponder on that for a while longer. also, this is silly, so wanda continues with that notion— )

I don't know what you can do, but I'll give you one when I feel you've earned it. Make a constellation with them and you can have a bigger prize.

( suppose it all goes back to stars between them. )

[unquiets]

( immediately, with a curiosity that's both earnest and bewildered— )

You did?

( that segues into something that's a bit like exasperation — that sounds ridiculous — just edged with fondness. )

Not an asterism?

...You don't even know what any constellations look like.
I could cheat.

[carmesi]

It sounds to me like I'm several steps ahead, David.

( if he thinks back on their conversation, he might figure it out. otherwise, he's in for a few surprises later on. which might as well be better. )

I thought you didn't cheat? It can be an asterism.
Are you going to cheat?

[unquiets]

( just because she has a book, that doesn't mean she's memorised anything yet! )

Quid pro quo. You cheat, I cheat. Levels the playing field.