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Chapter Text

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode One Trailer 

(originally found on wiccanboi.08's TikTok, hashtagged IwtWK, realwitches, WitchTok, craft, Witches Road and approximately 15 other popular tags)

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the very first information about Interview with the Witch-Killer, posted five days before the first episode was published. It's included for context.]

What do you know about real witchcraft? Less than you think.

[A short video of a young man aged somewhere between 15-19 is detailed here. He has curly dark hair, and is wearing eyeliner, black jeans, a dark t-shirt, silver earrings, and black nail polish, as well as a red hoodie. Folk Implosion's "Natural One" is used without consent as background music in the video]

TEEN BOY: My name is Billy and I'm a witch.

[His left hand lights up and he telekinetically moves a figurine of the Wicked Witch of the West into his other hand and looks at it]

BILLY: I found out a couple of months ago and now I'm like, on this quest to find my brother Tommy and while I'm doing that I want to talk about how I got here.

[He pauses and adjusts the camera clumsily]

BILLY: If you've ever wondered about real witchcraft, or loved the Ballad of the Witches Road, or just wanted to know more about magic, listen to my podcast, Interview with the Witch-Killer, available wherever you find podcasts and linked below.

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode One Transcript with Notes from Editor and Agents assigned to MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS [REDACTED]

BILLY: So the first thing I need to say is that this is not fiction. I really am a witch and I'm looking for my brother Tommy. So if you have had a weird month and maybe almost drowned recently, my information is in the show notes. We're trying to find you, Tommy. I promise.

My name is Billy, code name Wiccan, and this is Interview with the Witch-Killer.

[INTRO MUSIC: Heather Nova, "I Have the Touch"]

BILLY: The next thing I need to do is introduce my co-host, the subject of this podcast. This is actually weird, because at first we didn't think we could do this podcast together because my co-host is really most sincerely dead.

AGATHA: Suck it, haters.

BILLY: You're the worst. Why would you say that?

AGATHA: Because so many people wanted me dead and now I am and none of them got the pleasure of killing me themselves, that's why.

BILLY: Anyway. Part of my witchcraft is technological, which has to do with my dad and who he is. We'll talk about him in a later episode, when we think it's a good idea.

AGATHA: It's never going to be a good idea. This whole podcast is a bad idea.

BILLY: So why did you agree to it?

AGATHA: Because I hate your music and we're on a very long road trip, remember? Besides, it might work, I just also think we're going to be dodging lots of attempts at exorcism, murder, or both. Especially once we bring your parents into it.

BILLY: In any case, I created the first recording magic technology able to capture the voice of a ghost. Which my cohost is. Say hi to the public, Agatha.

AGATHA: Hi.

BILLY: OK, you talk more than anyone I have ever met and all you have is "hi?"

AGATHA: That was a terrible set up, Teen. If you're going to introduce an actual ghost on the record for the first time in history, you go with something like "And my cohost isn't just any ghost. She's the world's most infamous witch, known for things like sinking the Titanic, killing more people than your average Stark Industries technology, and so much more. Say hello to my teacher and tormentor, Agatha Harkness."

BILLY: You have opinions, you help with the script next time.

AGATHA: Find me a pen that works with ghost hands and I will!

BILLY: All right, we're going to take a break.

[SHORT MUSICAL BREAK HERE to CHVRCHES - "Bela Lugosi's Dead"]

BILLY: Even though we don't have commercials or sponsors yet, we're back from a break and ready to start this interview. I'm Billy, code name Wiccan --

AGATHA: And I'm Agatha Harkness and apparently people might care about my life and various terrible deeds.

BILLY: You were born in 1675 and have done so much legendary witchcraft that no one knows about and so much everyone knows about. You told me yesterday you speak seventeen languages and that you've done a Bollywood movie.

AGATHA: The more people know about me, the more they usually want to kill me. It's weird to have someone asking me 'well, what was your childhood like? Were your mom and dad witches? Did you always know you wanted to be a serial killer?' okay?

BILLY: You said you were open to an honest interview.

AGATHA: I am. So, let's see. My childhood was terrible. Possibly even worse than your mother's, though we won't talk about her yet. It built character. I don't have a father. Witches don't need those, and I was eighteen when the murder life chose me. So let's get into it.

[AGENT'S NOTE: At this point, witness reactions vary to this part of the podcast. Most say they hear a straightforward interview between the subjects. There have been several people who say their reaction was "more like watching a flashback on a TV show". This is unverifiable and I personally heard the public version of the podcast and did not experience any flashback scenes.]

1680. Village of Salem, Massachusetts Bay Colony.

A very young girl with dark brown hair in a simple brown dress stands next to an estuary, the brackish water lapping against the brown sandy mud, a stand of trees behind her. In her hands, she holds a dead bird, its head hanging oddly.

"I'm sorry," the child says, looking down at the dead bird. "I didn't mean for that to happen. Please don't be dead."

The girl pets the bird's feathers and the smallest flow of violet energy appears. The bird opens its eyes and peeps. Its head still hangs incorrectly, but the little girl doesn't notice. She beams, holding it as she runs into the village.

"Mother! Mother, look!" she cries, entering a small and tidy stone cottage. "Mother, it's not dead! I fixed it!"

A woman who is at first glance clearly too old to be the child's mother stands. She has long gray hair and icy dark eyes. "It is dead," she says. "You broke its neck with your clumsy attempts to befriend it, Agatha."

"But look!" the child - apparently Agatha Harkness - cries, opening her hands and displaying her treasure to her mother. The undead bird twitches and hops, its head still tilted.

The woman - Evanora Harkness of the Salemites - gapes at her five year old daughter. Fear locks her features into sternness.

Evanora stands and grasps the child by both wrists. "Necromancy," she snarls. "The darkest of magic. How dare you do such a thing? How did you do it? Have you looked in my books again, Agatha?"

The girl's eyes are huge. "I didn't open your books, I promise," she says. "I went to the water and I was going to put it in the ground like you told me, but it came back. I didn't do it on purpose. Mother, please."

Her mother drags her down to look at the bird, hopping in a circle on the ground where it fell. 

"That is not a living thing," she says. "What you have done is a mockery of the natural order of things. And when such a thing happens, the witch who commits the sin must undo it."

The child looks up at her mother, who looks at the bird. "No," she says, shivering.

"It must be done," her mother says. "I will not have a defiant child. I will not raise you to be wicked. End it, Agatha."

Weeping the whole time, Agatha does. When the revived bird is dead again, her mother seizes her by the arm and takes her to the root cellar, which is dark and cold.

"I'll come for you in the morning," Evanora says. She closes the door and bars it, leaving the child alone.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Everyone agrees this is where it goes back to the "normal" podcast, right?]

[AGENT COMMENT: Yep, this is where it flickers back.]

BILLY: She locked you in the cellar?

AGATHA: It was not the first time. The first overnight, but not the first time.

BILLY: I'm so sorry.

AGATHA: She was afraid. I was afraid. I didn't know what necromancy was. I just did it. It's an unusual gift, though less unusual for a spirit witch. But also, this is why my ex hates my mother. One of the only good points about my ex.

BILLY: Yeah, no kidding. And you said the next time something like this happened, you were?

AGATHA: Thirteen.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This happens regularly during the podcast. We have done our best to render what we've taken between the Interview podcast and various witness accounts of the "weird shit" related to it.]

1688. Woods Outside of the Village of Salem, Massachusetts Bay Colony.

Agatha is laying on a bed of leaves, her cloak under her head as a pillow, staring up at a full moon through the bare branches of the woods. She swirls her fingers irritably, muttering " me audi, me audi " over and over, trying to hear something in the dark.

As her gaze shifts to the stars, she starts to hear the voices of other witches, who sit in council at a fire perhaps a quarter of a mile from the most difficult of the Salemite children.

"Agatha has put us all at risk, Evanora," one of the women is shouting. "Again!"

"I shall punish no witch for fighting back against her own attempted violation, let alone my own daughter," Evanora says angrily. "Her response was cruel, but the Marsh boy was violent to her. He had torn her dress and blacked her eye before she lashed out. I gave her the punishment fit for her actions!"

"She burst the heart in his chest with a touch," another witch says.

"And how she did that , I would give a shilling to know," a third Salemite complains. "We have agreed she cannot be taught. Giving her knowledge..."

Evanora interrupts her sister witch with a loud throat-clearing noise. "Yes, we have agreed!" she says. "I have punished Agatha severely for her attempts to look at our spellbooks and grimoires. I have only allowed her to learn Latin, Greek, and runes. The girl is clever and dangerous. If I had the means, I would send her back to England or perhaps to the continent. There are few enough covens who can handle that level of raw power and in these days of persecutions, I fear there are fewer still."

"Then we must consider more permanent measures," the first witch says. "If we are not wise, we shall find ourselves in mortal danger because of that demon girl that you protect, Evanora."

Agatha, eyes fixed on the sky, laughs to herself. "Protect," she says to herself. "Yes, being put in the cellar for three days with only a pitcher of water and old bread was protecting me, Eleanor."

"What happens when she comes into her full power?" yet another witch says. "Agatha will bloom soon and for all her many faults, she is lovely. We may know what she is, but if she flips her skirts at the mortal boys, they will follow her."

Agatha spits at the mention of boys. Boys, boys, boys! Who cared for boys? She had only caught Jacob Marsh's eye three days ago because she had been watching his sister Margery. Pretty Margery, her yellow braids adorned with the flowers that Agatha had left on her doorstep earlier that day.

For the fairest of the fair , she'd put in the note.

The coven's meeting slowly comes to an end and the Salemites walk toward their cottages, surprised to find Agatha waiting for them in the woods.

"Agatha Harkness," Evanora says, looking disappointed but not surprised to see her only child, whose tears have long since been wiped away. "Have you been listening there the whole time?"

"Tis not my fault you gossip like wives at the market," Agatha says from the ground. "I only sought refuge in the green, Mother. May I not seek that much as a witch?"

The rest of the coven looks at her, disapproval clear in their psychic signatures and posture.

Dreadful little monster , Eleanor, her mother's long-term coven sister thinks loudly. Evanora and Eleanor have been in the same coven since before they had come to the New World from England in 1636. Eleanor had witnessed Agatha's birth and despises her for some unmentioned sin that happened then. We ought to burn her before she reaches her full power .

"Such kindness from my teachers in the craft," Agatha says, standing up and brushing off her skirts. "Shall I be grateful, sisters?"

Eleanor snorts. "As if you have ever had a crumb of gratitude in your wicked little soul, Agatha Harkness," she says. "You ought to be weeping on your knees for forgiveness for what you did to the Marsh boy. You ought to be begging us for mercy for daring to use power beyond your age and station, girl."

"Forgive me," Agatha says flatly. "I am a dreadful little monster who preferred my maidenhead not be taken without my consent. I wished to live and not be hit by a mortal boy for refusing his liberties. My apologies for my crimes, sisters."

Evanora strides to her daughter and knocks her down. "Salemites, with me," she says.

The Salemites have rather stringent punishments for insubordination. Agatha is tied to a tree, voice silenced with magic, as water drips across her face occasionally. She is left there for a day, freed only twice to make use of the necessary and then be fed broth, bread, and forced to drink a laced pitcher of water that dilutes any powers Agatha might access. It also makes time seem to jump its boundaries and be everywhere and nowhere at once.

It's torture, and yet mostly tedious but for two things. One is the sight of Margery Marsh, her dress black and eyes red with wailing, walking through the woods. And yet the flowers remain in her braids. It's unclear if it's real or a vision, but she turns to look at where Agatha is being punished and smiles through her tears, raising a hand as if noticing Agatha back.

The other is a book that is waiting on Agatha's bed when she is finally allowed to go home and fall into a long, dreamless sleep. It is an exquisite grimmery with the title On the Powers of the Spirit Witch . There is a note on it.

For the fairest of the fair .

[EDITOR 1 NOTE: Most people got this bit, yeah?

AGENT 2 NOTE: Yeah, but who's Rio?

EDITOR 1: When I find out, we'll both know.]

BILLY: Rio?

AGATHA: I assume. I never knew for sure.

BILLY: So...what happened then?

AGATHA: I killed them all. And before you ask in your hopeful little voice if I regret it? No. I don't regret it. I'm glad I did.

1693. Salem, Essex County, Province of Massachusetts.

There is a small barn on the Harkness property for the two goats and the mother pig whose piglets are now hanging in various forms in the hayloft against the winter cold. The door is open and sun is streaming through it as two girls giggle and fumble at each other into the barn.

They kiss each other eagerly, whimpering and gasping the way that secret lovers do, trying not to be caught while being lost in each other.

"Please show me?" Margery asks, petting Agatha's dark hair.

"I shouldn't," Agatha whispers back, kissing Margery's jawline. "Not in broad daylight. What if my mother notices?"

"Oh, Agatha," Margery pleads, kissing her girl's neck. "I want to see it."

Agatha giggles proudly, blushes, and gestures. She whispers " ostendo" and flicks her wrist as the space where a few tools and straw becomes a small private chamber, a few potions being tested, a dozen or so books on a shelf near a small table with a quill pen and ink on it.

"The first book was a gift. I've never known from whom," Agatha says, leading an awestruck Margery into her sanctuary. "The rest I've stolen from them or manifested from elsewhere with my will. They don't even know I've done it. Some of the first spells I properly learned were how to control a feeble mind and my mother's coven are all weak."

"Oh, my clever love," Margery says, leaning in for another kiss. "And do you promise that soon we'll leave this place together?"

She raises her skirts to the knee.

"Yes," Agatha says, eyes suddenly afire with ambition and desire. "Paris, Margery. I shall take us to Paris and I'll find La Montespan, the witch who was queen of Louis's mistresses, cast off over l'affaire des poisons , and I shall beg to apprentice to her, on my knees if I must."

Margery smiles, walking backward and bracing herself against the table, her skirts inching upward. "You'll never," she says. "Agatha Harkness, kneel? I can't fathom it."

"Needs must," Agatha says, placing herself against Margery and sliding one hand up her love's thigh. "When I'm done, every witch in Europe will kneel to me and my power. Why not start with the greatest witch in France as a teacher?"

Margery laughs, but her expression is a bit strange. It seems almost as if she's humoring the bright and gallant creature who is pressing her lips to her bodice. 

"If only we had the fare for a ship," she says, sounding wistful. "Or mothers who will ever cut the apron strings."

Agatha pauses. "We don't need them," she says. "I can hide us. We'll be common ship's boys to get us to France and once we're there, my mother won't follow us. She can't wait to be rid of me."

Margery turns her head, suddenly looking alarmed. "Agatha, Jonathan Whitten asked my father to marry me this morning," she says flatly. "My father gave his consent."

"What?" Agatha asks. "Then we should go now! I can hide this place, I can destroy the proof it ever was. We can be in Boston by morning. I'll take one or two of my books, we can sell some of the trinkets. I think I can disguise us if I take a moment..."

Margery shakes her head. "I agreed," she says.

Agatha's mouth opens. "You agreed," she says. "But...Margery..."

"My love," Margery says, her eyes suddenly full of tears. "I'm so sorry."

The trap clicks shut. Evanora and the rest of the coven are standing in Agatha's stolen sanctuary, with the puppeted, controlled bodies of Margery's parents standing behind them. Agatha stares at them, wild-eyed. Margery stands there, just as controlled as the other mortals.

Evanora's first move is to slap Agatha. "Whore," she says. "You gave yourself to this mortal girl. You exposed your magic to her. You betrayed your coven."

Agatha doesn't respond. She is too busy looking at Margery's slack face. "And this," Evanora says, looking at the secret library. "A dozen books of magic or more. Stealing our knowledge and our secrets. You had no right."

"Margery?" the girl asks, ignoring her mother. "Margery, please wake up."

Evanora seizes her by the hair, dragging her daughter around to face her. 

"You are a liar, a thief and a wanton," she says. "And your first words are to plead to the girl?"

"Let her go," Agatha says. "Please. She is very dear to me."

"You're lucky we have chosen to let her live," Evanora says. "Their memories will be erased, as is proper. You and your unnatural desires corrupted that girl, Agatha. It's a blessing to free her from it."

Agatha's eyes are frantic as she tries to get away from her mother, who has her in a grip like steel. "No," she says. "No, please ."

She raises her hands to fight, but the rest of the coven is ready for Agatha's defiance. A hood is thrown over her head as another witch chants a spell that causes her to quietly lose consciousness and fall to the floor.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: This flickered in for me. I know it didn't for most. Thought it was relevant.]

AGATHA: If you say you're sorry again, I will figure out a way to make the radio play only Pony by Ginuwine for the next two hours.

BILLY: It's just so horrible.

AGATHA: They didn't kill her, at least. She married her farmboy and lived to be old. I never saw her again. Her daughter, yes. But not her.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: I don't know, I find the asides to be helpful even if we can hear them in most versions of the broadcast.]

The spell doesn't last quite as long as the coven expects. They never do with Agatha. Bound and gagged in the root cellar where Agatha has spent far too much of her youth, she hears them plotting her execution.

"This is not your fault, Evanora," Eleanor is reassuring her mother. "Her conception was unnatural, as we all knew. Born under a blood moon at Samhain. Her birth nearly took you from us."

"I ought to have killed her at her birth," Evanora says. "And if not then, when I knew who her father was for certain."

"Yes," Eleanor agrees. "But a mother cannot be faulted for her soft heart. And now we know that there is nothing to be done. The girl is a monster, Evanora. She cannot be good."

Agatha tries to slip the bonds, but with the gag and the potion they clearly forced down her throat, her magic is not working properly. Tears are streaming down her face as they haven't in years.

They come for her not long after, dragging her to the stake. Her mother makes the accusations, as if they haven't already decided.

It's actually not hard to kill them once they all attack her. She thinks of Margery's blank face, of the dark silence of the root cellar, of her private place exposed by the coven, and when they all fall to the ground, drained and withered, Agatha feels profound relief and a strange giddy dizziness.

"Oh, no!" she cries, throwing her hand to her forehead as if she's upset and not pleased. "What horrible thing has happened here? What witchcraft is this?"

She looks down at Evanora and notices the triple goddess locket at her throat. A strange lust for the thing strikes her. "So many lives cut short," Agatha says, taking the locket. "It's a tragedy!"

There's a sudden laugh. "A tragedy?" a woman's voice asks. "I saw a triumph, myself."

Agatha freezes. "Who's there?" she asks nervously. "I have a knife!"

"Don't worry, Agatha," the woman says. She comes out of the shadows. Her eyes and hair are dark and she's wearing an elaborate green dress, almost like Agatha imagines witches wear in Paris or London or anywhere that isn't miserable Salem and its dour Puritan aesthetic. "I'm nobody."

The strange woman walks forward, holding a small bundle of purple heliotrope. "For you," she says, giving it to Agatha. "And I have this as well."

It's the treatise on spirit witches. Agatha blinks back sudden tears, seizing her book fiercely and putting the book, flower, and locket in her pocket.

"Where did you find this?" Agatha asks. "Who are you?"

"I told you. I'm nobody," the woman says, chuckling slightly. "But if you require a name, you can call me...Rio. I like that."

"Rio," Agatha says, forming the word carefully. "Thank you for my book."

"Mmm," Rio says, looking at Agatha intensely. "You haven't asked me the price for my aid yet. And I do have one."

Agatha moves back slightly, ready to run. "And what is that?" she asks, fingering her apron nervously and wishing she did have a knife.

"A kiss," Rio says. "Freely offered and freely given."

The memory of Margery's kisses rear up in Agatha's memory and she almost refuses, the hurt in her chest sharp and fragmented as her stomach aches from grief.

"Don't worry," Rio says, moving forward. "Nothing more than a kiss. After that, I suggest you go to Paris, little witch. It will do you good to leave here for a while."

"One kiss," Agatha says. "All right."

Agatha strides toward Rio, trying to infuse the movement with some of the confidence she had only this afternoon. This afternoon, when she was imagining herself apprenticed to a coven in Paris, Margery by her side and every witch in the world amazed at how Agatha Harkness, a child witch from the colonies, had found herself apprenticed to La Montespan despite being cursed with a dreadful mother and a stuffy, hateful coven of Puritans. Agatha Harkness, the wonder with powers unknown to witches, especially for one who was not even one-and-twenty. 

She could almost believe it when she imagines it that way.

Rio gestures her in and Agatha seizes her face between her hands before kissing her.

It is nothing like kissing Margery. Rio devours her lips with expertise, her hand hard and strong on Agatha's wrist, the other around her waist, pulling her in. Agatha feels dizzy and powerful, her whole body reacting strangely, heart pounding and vision blurring. Around the edges of her consciousness she is slightly cold, but shakes it off.

"Forgive the girl for what she did. Forget her," Rio murmurs. "Go to Paris. And when you're ready, I'll find you."

"Ready for what?" Agatha asks, but almost as smoothly as she appeared, Rio is gone.

BILLY: And an iconic entrance from Rio.

AGATHA: You've met her. It was mild by her standards. Anyway, that's the story of my terrible childhood and why I really hated my mother and my original coven.

BILLY: Not gonna lie, I would have also unalived them.

AGATHA: Never say that word in my presence again.

BILLY: And with that, I think we're done with this episode. This has been Interview with the Witch-Killer. I'm here, Tommy. If you hear this, please tell us where you are. I miss you.

[LEAD OUT MUSIC - "The Days of Swine and Roses" My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Redacting the credits, since your organization clearly has the intel by now.

AGENT'S NOTE: Us and everyone else on the internet. Hasn't helped anyone track them.]

Chapter Text

INTERVIEW WITH THE WITCH-KILLER

EPISODE TWO FILES

[EDITOR'S NOTE: As the Interview with the Witch-Killer podcast has gained listeners and attention on social media, interesting files related to it have also been added. Cross-agency notes are also included, requiring clearance for the MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS case files for full access.]

Instagram Live from jennifer.kale.kare

(tagline: thanks for sharing u survived. Hashtagged WitchTok, Witchstagram, i hate u both, realwitches, coventwo, IwtWK, Witches Road, and seventeen other popular tags)

[What follows is a video from Jennifer Kale, the CEO of Kale Kare. Kale appears to be a 40-year-old Black woman with extremely short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and flawless skin. She wears a rose-colored tunic embroidered with gold sigils and symbols, a pair of white palazzo pants, and strappy gold sandals in her office.]

KALE: Good afternoon, my fellow witches and of course, to my Kale Krew. I was here to explain how the lawsuits against me have all been dismissed with prejudice, but unfortunately I have to address something more serious.

[The camera angle adjusts]

KALE: Hi, Billy! Hi, Agatha! Thanks for letting me know you idiots lived. Well, I guess not you, Agatha. Sorry about that, except not really.

[Kale flips off the camera with both middle fingers]

KALE: For the rest of you, you probably haven't seen a little TikTok about a random podcast called Interview with the Witch-Killer . It's unfortunately for real, though why after hundreds of years, the witching world's most notorious psycho has decided to throw herself a pity party I'll never guess. You're dead, girl. Nobody is coming with a warrant for your ass now.

[An image of what appears to be Agatha Harkness as she appeared when alive, titled CAN'T ARREST A GHOST, appears temporarily]

KALE: In my opinion, you two are going to get yourselves killed trying to find Tommy this way. Y'all have enemies . But if I hear anything about it, I'll let you know.

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode Two Transcript with Notes from Editor and Agents assigned to MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS [REDACTED]

[Prerecorded intro, added as of episode two]

BILLY: Interview with the Witch-Killer is a non-fiction podcast about the world's most notorious witch, my coven-mate, and current ghost, Agatha Harkness. It's also an attempt to find my brother, Tommy. If you've had a weird month and maybe almost drowned, or know something about a boy who might have, my information is in the show notes. Tommy, we're trying to find you. I promise.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The live podcast episode starts here. Shifts between the conversation and the flashbacks will continue to be noted, as VFA finds them helpful for tracking the anomalies we are finding between the podcast, the flashbacks, and other testimony from listeners.]

BILLY: My name is Billy, code name Wiccan, and this is Interview with the Witch-Killer.

[INTRO MUSIC - "Snake Song" - Emmylou Harris]

AGATHA: So the last two weeks have been interesting, wouldn't you say, Billy?

BILLY: Yeah, I was not expecting this to blow up immediately. That many listens for our first episode is really, really cool. Thanks to Joseph Fink of Welcome to Night Vale for recommending our first episode, we think that's where most of our listeners came from.

AGATHA: Remember to like and subscribe wherever you get your podcasts, kids. We're going to be dropping one of these episodes every two weeks and I promise to continue to be the worst in all of them.

BILLY: How many podcasts have you binged while I was asleep?

AGATHA: More than I'm willing to admit to our listeners.

BILLY: We have a lot of ideas about new segments based on the feedback we've received.

AGATHA: What, the death threats?

BILLY: Not just the death threats.

AGATHA: Fine, also the exorcism threats?

BILLY: I was talking about the helpful tips leading into today's special guest, but you clearly have something to say, so please just say it.

AGATHA: Fine. Karl Mordo, I saw your email to my apprentice slash coven member. I promise you that once I am consistently able to manipulate physical matter again, because I can do it one time in five already, you arrogant sorcerer bitch--

BILLY: Come on, Karl Mordo cannot even be a real name.

AGATHA: Sorcerer names all sound fake. Stephen Strange sounds like a fake name and he's sadly real.

BILLY: And with that, we're going to take a break.

[SHORT MUSICAL INTERLUDE - "DUPATTA MERA" from the Netflix show The Fame Game]

AGATHA: ...I told you Karl Mordo was a real person....

BILLY: And we're back and excited to introduce today's guest from a secret location near Jersey City. I'm honestly so honored and jazzed, this is the coolest thing ever.

AGATHA: Yeah, there's an American who has seen all of my best movies.

YOUNG WOMAN: Yeah, when I heard about a mysterious American woman who's actually in a Bollywood musical, I went to my DVD rack and figured it out. Your Hindi is on point and I cannot believe how cool that solo dance sequence was in Goddess of the Shops . Was it magic?

AGATHA: Uh, hardly. I'm not Madhuri-ji, but I love doing those movies more than almost anything that isn't magic or serial killing. I keep up on the trends and my Hindi, and the Kingo family has always been so welcoming when I visit Mumbai. My Urdu is a little shoddy, though.

YOUNG WOMAN: You totally surprised my parents. White people don't even know they're different languages, let alone speak any of both. And then when they recognized you...oh, wait, have we introduced me yet?

BILLY: I think we all got too busy fangirling. Anyway, we're here in an undisclosed location near Jersey City with our state's greatest superhero, Ms. Marvel! Hi and welcome to Interview with the Witch Killer .

MS. MARVEL: It's so cool to meet you both, especially after I found out who your parents are, Billy. Like, OH MY GOD, I didn't realize that you even existed or any of that stuff about Westview!

BILLY: And it's so cool to just know there are other people our age out there with abilities. Like, your hard light powers? Sick.

MS. MARVEL: I am totally forwarding your information to all my friends who are part of the club. If there's anything we can do to help you find Tommy, I'm sure everyone will just be 100% in to help or do interviews so we can get this out there.

AGATHA: Are the Feds going to be involved? No Feds.

MS. MARVEL: Why not?

BILLY: Uh, we're going to take another quick break with a promotion for another podcast from another new friend of ours.

[A brief advertisement for WYESU's student radio show "Squirrel Girl: The Unbeatable Radio Show" follows.]

[AGENT 2 NOTE: VFA personally read this section and spent ten minutes muttering about how Agatha Harkness knows what she did and she's lucky the Feds can't arrest the dead. It was something.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Agatha Harkness is so cool for what she did.]

BILLY: Thanks to our friends at WYESU's "Squirrel Girl: The Unbeatable Radio Show" for being our first promotion! Personally, I'd also like to thank Doreen Green for her help in figuring out how to use machine learning and scripts to cross-reference news archives and police blotters to help us narrow down where my brother Tommy could be. She's also introduced me to a few other computer science and informatics folks and is just the nicest person.

MS. MARVEL: It's so true. I think between Doreen, a friend of mine who's in college, and our contacts, it won't be hard to find him, Billy. Even if we can't involve the Feds because of the mind-boggling list of crimes.

AGATHA: Can we stop talking about my record now? Maybe instead we talk about something people don't know about, which is my extensive acting career, which I've pursued for well over two hundred years.

MS. MARVEL: So like, since the 1800s?

AGATHA: Yes, that is what happens when you subtract 200 from 2026, child. You reach the nineteenth century.

MS. MARVEL: That's so cool! So did you meet a bunch of famous people?

AGATHA: Oh, sure. Lots. They mostly just don't know they did because I did a lot of crime while I was also acting. I also had to change my identity regularly because people get weirded out when you don't visibly age. My association with the Kingo family is unique because of how they operate.

MS. MARVEL: I can't believe you've met them all.

AGATHA: Yes, all. So many members of the Kingo family.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: There is minimal information about the Kingo family of actors; however, this appears to warrant further investigation given the heavy sarcasm this line was infused with.]

BILLY: Tell us about someone else famous you met, if you really did know anyone. Something we wouldn't know about otherwise.

AGATHA: The first woman I fell for after THE one was a famous actress named Eliza. She's the reason I decided to go on the stage.

MS. MARVEL: Aww, there's a THE one?

AGATHA: Yes. We don't talk about her, though.

BILLY: OK, so tell us about Eliza. Where were you living when you met her? And when?

AGATHA: This was 1804, 1805. I had gone south around the time of the American Revolution because I couldn't deal with being in Salem or anywhere around New England then due to what happened. The easiest way for a woman to travel freely without getting asked if she was a working girl was to join an acting troupe. Or maybe it wasn't the easiest way, but it was easy enough for me.

MS. MARVEL: And this Eliza, she was really famous?

AGATHA: Eliza was a genius. She was Shirley Temple, Meryl Streep, and Idina Menzel rolled into one being. I mean, this is her first review in the papers: "Miss Arnold, in Miss Biddy, exceeded all praise. Although a miss of only nine years old, her powers as an Actress will do credit to any of her sex of maturer age." I didn't know Eliza then, but she was famous from the moment she came to America. I think I saw her first playing Ophelia in Philadelphia.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Cue the cut to the experiential here. We got about a 25% rate of people who experienced this segment rather than hearing it, higher than other segments, which I think is interesting.]

1805. Chestnut Street Theater. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Agatha never pays to get into the theater. Any theater. She's mostly there to hunt, as women with any independence dearly love a performance and even if Agatha can't find a coven to drain, she usually succeeds in finding a single witch or even a mortal woman to soothe the rage and heartbreak that chases her up and down the eastern seaboard of the very new United States.

As she stands near the front of the pit, she checks the handbill she'd stolen from the street that had decided her on seeing a play that night.

HELD OVER BY POPULAR DEMAND

MRS. ELIZA HOPKINS AS OPHELIA 

IN

THE IMMORTAL SHAKESPEARE'S

HAMLET

A loud boy who looks like Nicky is selling oranges. Agatha mutters a spell and he hands her one for free, which she greedily eats as the lights dim and the footlights are lit by the stagehands.

Agatha remembers every detail of the performance. She's seen Hamlet over a dozen times over the centuries. But what she remembers best is Eliza, singing her heart out as Ophelia. Her wild black hair had hung about her face as the mad Ophelia shuffled upon the stage, wearing nothing but her shift (a common trick to get the punters riled up as it was nearly see-through and strategically ripped). Eliza's previously radiant and clever black eyes were ringed in greasepaint and the tracks of tears rolled down her cheeks, ravaged by the grief of Polonius' death, teasing at the madness about to take Ophelia. Her lips were bright crimson, like a Snow White who had been utterly destroyed by the wicked queen. Eliza did not so much play Ophelia at that moment as she was Ophelia, a woman driven to insanity by a broken heart.

Standing at the edge of the stage, Agatha is transfixed, a hand on her heart. She stares up at Eliza, lips parted slightly, breathing soft and ragged as her own tears fall.

And then Eliza begins to sing. 

"He is dead and gone, dear lady, he is dead and gone," she trills, her powerful voice silencing the rowdy audience that had been chattering and gossiping.

Agatha stares up at Eliza, her previous plans for the evening forgotten.

It is a simple thing to slip backstage after the performance finishes. Mortal actors are not the strongest-minded of men and women, especially as they have started drinking already. Besides, Agatha is performing right back at them, doing her best "flattering housewife who simply must give the performers their due" act. Once backstage, it is a matter of minutes before Agatha finds her way to Eliza Hopkins' dressing room.

The girl is crying as Agatha raps slightly on the doorframe.

"Oh, do pardon me!" Agatha says, bobbing a nervous curtsey and throwing a dazzling smile. "But your performance tonight was so lovely that I had to come and see you, Mrs. Hopkins."

Eliza Hopkins is only eighteen, but she is the greatest actress in America and has been for years. She wipes away her tears and tries to look attentive at yet another admirer and what they have to say to her.

"I thank you, madam," Eliza says. She's even prettier close up, even though her greasepaint is half-melted and her real tears have turned her eyes red. Agatha hands her a handkerchief, which Eliza takes without thinking. "It is my calling to bring the words of the great playwrights to life for the pleasure of my fellow man. Are you a great lover of the stage yourself?"

"Yes," Agatha says. She is barely performing. She does love the stage, even if she first took to going to theaters to spite her mother's dead coven, who took a Puritan-like disdain of playing and mummery. "But please, my dear, I see that you have been weeping. What troubles you, my dear Mrs. Hopkins?"

"I found out as I left the stage this evening that my husband cannot live," Eliza confesses, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks again. "He will soon die and then what shall I do?"

Agatha rushes to the woman, taking the handkerchief and gently wiping away the sweat, tears, and paint from her face.

"Oh, my poor dear," Agatha says, patting Eliza on the shoulder. "And you no more than eighteen! Oh, Mrs. Hopkins, what a tragedy for you!"

"Yes," Eliza says, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. "I should go to him soon."

A ripple of emotion crosses Agatha's face, but she shakes her head suddenly and returns to comforting Eliza.

"I must then leave you to your private sorrows, Mrs. Hopkins," Agatha says. "But first, let me give you a small token of my esteem for your performance as Ophelia."

Eliza looks up with surprise. Agatha presents her a small bouquet of sweetgrass woven into and around flowers. In her other hand is a beautiful ring made of a daisy and a pair of violets woven through unnaturally long stems.

"I would give you some violets," Agatha whispers, quoting the line from Ophelia's mad accusations of the king and queen. "These at least have not died."

Eliza blushes. "Thank you," she said. "Are you sure you yourself are not an actress, madam? You know your lines and speak them beautifully."

"Me? Oh, no," Agatha says, her cheeks reddening slightly. "I've never received a better compliment, though, and from Mrs. Eliza Hopkins."

Agatha very boldly slides the daisy and violet ring on Eliza's finger before gently kissing the back of her hand.

"I do hope we will meet again, Mrs. Hopkins," Agatha says, fluttering her lashes.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The cuts between podcast and flashbacks are somewhat different than in episode 1. They're sometimes longer, sometimes not. I'll try to note time differences for episode 3 just to see if anything corresponds to flashbacks or other reactions.]

BILLY: What happened after you met this Eliza, then?

AGATHA: Well, first I found the nearest coven and drained them dry. The next day I went down Richmond way and apprenticed myself to a touring company that specialized in farces and operettas.

MS. MARVEL: Was it hard to become an actress in 1805?

AGATHA: Not really. Respectable women weren't supposed to be interested in the stage, by and large. I'm also used to living on the road and being broke. With a company, I at least usually had a place to sleep and regular food. Besides, I'm not without talent. I got paid decently by the standards of the time and had the freedom to change troupes if needed.

MS. MARVEL: Did you get famous? I mean, before your collaboration with the Kingo family.

AGATHA: It's all relative. More people have probably heard me on this podcast than who saw me when I was Mrs. Harper, but I did get favorable notices. Which is old person for "they said nice things about me in the newspapers sometimes."

BILLY: We know what a newspaper is.

AGATHA: The best thing they ever said about me was that I was a "spirited actress whose presence upon the stage always signals a merry time to come." I definitely didn't have the chops for Ophelia or Juliet, but I can sing and I never minded doing a gay lover role, which doesn't mean what you think. Besides, I used magic to make sure everyone heard my lines, which was a novelty at the time.

MS. MARVEL: Did you ever meet that other actress again? Mrs. Hopkins.

AGATHA: Yes. By then, she'd married that absolute wastrel David Poe, and had her first son. But it was...I want to say 1808?...that we were both doing a season in Boston and our paths finally crossed again.

Summer 1808. Unknown Theater, Boston, Massachusetts.

Being Mrs. Diana Harper is a delight for Agatha. It's the first joy she's felt since Nicky's death and the applause is nearly as sweet as honey wine. Besides, covens do so enjoy a trip to the theater now and again. She barely has to use her Witches' Road scam to keep herself in stolen power and bodies.

Agatha lives well as Mrs. Harper. There are so many fluttering girls who bring her gifts and try to steal kisses, frequent run-ins with witches, regular travel so that suspicion for mysterious deaths never fall upon her, and a pattern to her days that keep any dark thoughts from overwhelming her. She owns more than two dresses and a single pair of shoes and her cloak is fashionable. The relative prosperity is refreshing to her.

And now, in the summer of 1808, her troupe is in Boston at the same time as Eliza and David Poe. The Poes' company has been selling out performances for over a dozen weeks. Agatha has become the featured actress in her troupe, filling seats at a mean little theater that sat no more than a hundred for those who preferred musicals and comedy.

Agatha loves every minute. They are doing a three week run of The School for Scandal and the audiences are roaring for her Lady Teazle. Agatha, much to her dismay, learned quickly that she is terrible at Shakespeare. The only part she can do with anything like competence is Beatrice, and that's only with a truly gifted Benedick. Restoration comedies and comedies of manners are her glory. A gay lover or the slightly villainous widow? She can keep a whole room enchanted without the use of magic.

And that night. Tonight, Eliza Poe is seated in a box, and the company is gossiping that it's because of their Mrs. Harper.

The unnamed theater, long since disappeared and lost from the historical record, is roaring through the play. Agatha is drunk on their approval, breathing the applause like it's incense. Even killing witches is nothing to this.

"Born with a genius for the highest life!" Agatha is lamenting in her final epilogue, using her talent for broad humor to its height, "Like me untimely blasted in her bloom, like me condemn'd to SUCH a dismal doom?"

Eliza Poe is laughing fit to split her seams, not merely chuckling politely. Like the rest of the audience, she is enchanted and charmed by Agatha's Lady Teazle. The sweetness of that victory hits Agatha like an entire coven's magic.

Agatha moves downstage left a little past her mark, vamping shamelessly and making sure the spell she uses to amplify the company's voices is working flawlessly. She aims her next lines directly at Eliza.

"Save money? When I just knew how to waste it?" Agatha wails, wiping away comic tears in mock offense. She shakes her curls, shocked that anyone would imagine Lady Teazle saving money. "Leave London...just when I began to taste it!"

Agatha licks her lips lasciviously. The men in the audience hoot appreciatively. Eliza catches Agatha's eye then, shaking her head at the naughtiness. Feigning a pretty sigh, Agatha throws her hand against her forehead, making her bosoms heave for her public.

"Oh," she sighs, seeming to sink in on herself with resignation. "Must I then watch the early crowing cock..."

The applause and catcalls that follow Agatha's triumphant final monologue are prolonged. As she strides backstage, she is met with a tankard of cider, a piece of gingerbread, and her troupe, cheering as heartily as the audience.

"Mrs. Diana Harper, you absolute minx!" Mr. Gage shouts. "You've never done better than you done tonight!"

Agatha inclines her head slightly before downing half of her cider. She's giddy and thirsty and spins around happily, finishing the rest of the cider in a single gulp.

Then one of the stagehands yells, "Lads! Lads, Mrs. Poe is here! Mrs. Poe is here for Mrs. Harper!"

Her troupe whistles and stomps. "Huzzah for Mrs. Harper!" their Lady Sneerwell cries. "Huzzah for Mrs. Poe!"

It is the most glorious night of Agatha's life. Her years with Nicky mean more, but she has never been more flushed with triumph. She drains another tankard of cider, clapped on the back by her fellow actors. One of the crew brings her a meat pie and more gingerbread and for once, Agatha doesn't feel hungry for something more.

And best of all, Eliza Poe is waiting in the small closet of a room Agatha has claimed as her own dressing room, delighted to meet the wit who had so delighted as Lady Teazle.

"I know you!" Eliza says. "You were the woman I met in Philadelphia when I was playing Ophelia!"

"Mrs. Diana Harper, at your service," Agatha says, sweeping a bow and smiling up at Eliza.

Eliza blushes slightly. "You gave me that lovely little ring made of violets and daisies," she says in a low voice. "It gave me such dreams, Mrs. Harper. Such strange and beautiful dreams. And now I find you here, in Boston, as fine a comic actress as I've ever seen."

"When you spoke to me that night, it lit a fire in my soul," Agatha says. She's laying it on a bit thick, but she's perfectly sincere for once. "I apprenticed myself to the stage the next day. But I could not have dreamed my dear Mrs. Poe would remember me."

She sets her hand atop Eliza's arm and strokes it boldly, casting a flirtatious look at the other woman.

"Mrs. Harper, I..." and Eliza pauses, her face flaming red, "I would dearly like to see you again. We are fellow actresses, are we not? I should be pleased to have you to tea and discuss your great future on the stage."

It takes another three weeks before Agatha kisses Eliza Poe. But when she counts her victory in love, it's at this moment.

AGATHA: It didn't last. Edgar was born in January and then that jealous ass David forced them to Manhattan to get Eliza away from me, claiming he was going to establish them there permanently. As if David could have established anything, he was crap.

BILLY: Edgar...Poe? Like quoth the raven, nevermore, EDGAR ALLAN POE?

AGATHA: Yeah, him. I always wondered if someone told him about me. I saw bits of myself in Ligeia and most of all in Metzengerstein, but the Allans didn't know I existed, so maybe not.

MS. MARVEL: I didn't know his mother was famous.

AGATHA: Well, she was. Look up Eliza Poe if you're skeptical. Anyway, when David got tired of being booed for being shitty at his job, he took off like the coward he always was.

BILLY: Took off?

AGATHA: Took off. I rejoined her then and did my best to help, but I wasn't Mrs. Eliza Poe. I wasn't able to do male roles. I was a two-bit comedienne who could sing a bit. Not like Eliza. Eliza was on another level.

BILLY: I've never heard you talk like this.

AGATHA: She didn't live much longer. Consumption.

MS. MARVEL: She died? That's so sad!

AGATHA: She was only twenty-four. The company she was with didn't need comic actresses, so I was backstage, doing costumes and whatever I could, watching the children and so on. I did better after she died and I could rejoin a comic troupe. I always did do well in Richmond before the war.

BILLY: The war? Like, the Civil War?

AGATHA: Yes, like the Civil War. Not the Avengers one, the American history one.

MS. MARVEL: I didn't know any of this. This is wild. I mean, what happened after she died? What did you do?

AGATHA: I...

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the first "flashback scene" that does not match the interview given in the regular podcast. In the direct transcript, we learn that AH maintained various stage personas until the turn of the twentieth century, claiming that she got "too famous" in vaudeville and had to change her approach to prevent discovery of her extended lifespan. Nothing about the Richmond Theatre is mentioned.]

[AGENT 1 NOTE: We only have two witnesses who experienced this, one of whom is a witch who was recently connected to AH. VFA is extremely interested.]

26 December 18

11. Richmond Theatre, Richmond, Commonwealth of Virginia.

The screams have finally died down as the Richmond Theatre becomes a funeral pyre. When the flames finish their ghoulish work the next day, seventy-two (not counting those whom the Commonwealth of Virginia does not see as fully human, so in truth closer to eighty) are dead, including the Governor of Virginia himself.

Pine planks are falling from the ceiling, cracking and dropping in ruby streaks and smoldering ember. Trampled bodies lay on the floor of the theater as the smoke fills every molecule of breathable air and props, sets, stage, and seats are consumed by flame, smoke, and ash.

Agatha Harkness sits front row center and watches it burn.

"This seems excessive, my love," Rio says, striding downstage to look at Agatha. "I know this was the last place you ever saw her perform, but I thought you took your revenge already."

The smoke is choking. Agatha almost enjoys it. "Go away," she says.

"If you would like to die for love, I'm always here," Rio says, taking a deep stage bow. "But something about this feels strange. Doesn't it?"

"Aren't you busy?" Agatha asks irritably, her hand on the locket. "I've provided you with a mountain of bodies to entertain yourself with. Shoo."

Rio laughs and then leaps nimbly off the stage to sit next to Agatha. "You didn't do this for me," she says, stroking Agatha's ash-choked hair. "I'm not sure you even did it for your Eliza. Killing her worthless husband? That I believe was for love. But this was something darker."

Agatha closes her eyes and tries to breathe through the memory, despite the air being poisoned. Three days after Eliza Poe had breathed her last, Agatha had found herself in Norfolk, tracking David to a dockside tavern. She had played a working girl to get him to come with her and by the time he'd recognized Agatha's face, it had been far too late.

She'd licked the tears from his face before starting in on him again with his knife. It had taken him hours to die. He had screamed until she had magically stopped his vocal cords from moving and then he kept trying to scream anyway.

"That's my girl. Vicious and personal," Rio says. "This is glorious, but you didn't even steal anyone's powers when you absolutely could have. Instead you set a fire and waited for the bodies to drop. And I have to wonder why."

Agatha blinks, shaking her head suddenly. She's still in the middle of the theater, but now she's alone. Instead of feeling like stone and waiting to drop from smoke inhalation, she feels like herself again. Without thinking, she shoots herself through the roof with her purple, coughing and gagging as she puts herself down next to the James River and tries to wash the debris from her face and body.

She looks down at her face, and the face that looks back is hers, but the eyes are wrong . They're [REDACTED].

Agatha opens her mouth and--

[EDITORIAL COMMENT FROM VFA: Cut the rest of this. The clearance for this information is so high that only some Avengers even get to know about it. Like Ant-Man? He doesn't get to know shit. This is need-to-know ONLY.]

[AGENT 2 NOTE: This is creepy. And who the hell is this Rio character, seriously? Is she really there? Are we talking a psychotic break or something else?]

[AGENT 3 NOTE: You know what I'm thinking? Can ghosts be haunted?]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: And this is where our witnesses swear the podcast "flickered" back in]

BILLY: I'd like to thank our guest, Jersey City's own Ms. Marvel, for being with us, and to Doreen Green, the one and only Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, for her help. This has been Interview with the Witch-Killer . I'm here, Tommy. If you hear this, please tell us where you are. I miss you.

[LEAD OUT MUSIC - "Dig Ophelia", Rasputina]

Chapter Text

INTERVIEW WITH THE WITCH-KILLER

EPISODE THREE FILES

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The podcast went from about 2000 listens in its second week to 20,000 in its third week, increasing the number of witnesses to experientials and people willing to go on the record with us about those experiences.]

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode 3 Transcript, Various "Experiential" Scenes, Commentary Found via Social Media, with Notes from the MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS [REDACTED] Files

[Prerecorded intro, added as of episode two]

BILLY: Interview with the Witch-Killer is a non-fiction podcast about the world's most notorious witch, my coven-mate, and current ghost, Agatha Harkness. It's also an attempt to find my brother, Tommy. If you've had a weird month and maybe almost drowned, or know something about a boy who might have, my information is in the show notes. Tommy, we're trying to find you. I promise.

[INTRO MUSIC - "Phenomena", The Yeah Yeah Yeahs]

BILLY: My name is Billy, code name Wiccan, and this is Interview with the Witch-Killer.

AGATHA: In today's episode, we're going to talk about how threatening kids is a real dick move, Karl Mordo, meet some exciting new people in the Bay Area, and talk about how hard researching witchcraft is. Also, why are you trying a code name? You gave your real name to Ms. Marvel and now everyone we should have hidden your identity from knows who you are, don't they?

BILLY: It's giving mystique, Agatha. That's something you've traded on since the 1690s.

AGATHA: Mmm-hmm, sure.

BILLY: Anyway, it wasn't even my contacts who reached out this time, even though yes, we're going to be talking to a friend of Ms. Marvel's. This whole adventure started because I got an email from one of your old friends. I was shooketh.

AGATHA: Why, because I have friends?

BILLY: You do tend to kill your covens. Also, because you giggled when she called.

AGATHA: Janet isn't a witch, dear. She's a scientist. And I thought she was permanently lost about forty years ago, so yes, I am a little giddy that my friend is alive.

BILLY: I can't believe you're friends with Janet Van Dyne.

AGATHA: I can't believe she's letting us put her name on the air. And I guess with that, we're heading into a break.

BILLY: That's right.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: S.H.I.E.L.D. records have confirmed that as a new S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Janet Van Dyne was working with a witch with the codename "Purple 75". Most of the records were destroyed by a "mysterious accident" in the mid-1990s, but the video file in the San Francisco City Morgue, transcribed below, makes it clear Purple 75 is Agatha Harkness.]

From recovered S.H.I.E.L.D. videos related to VAN DYNE, JANET. 

[A camera recording focusing on Janet Van Dyne, who is standing near a morgue cabinet]

VAN DYNE: State your name, birth date, and birth place for the record.

PURPLE 75: Absolutely not.

VAN DYNE: Noted.

PURPLE 75: No offense to the experiment, I just don't go on the record.

VAN DYNE: Also noted. So we're still going with Purple 75?

PURPLE 75: Man, we were baked when we came up with that, weren't we?

VAN DYNE: I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.

PURPLE 75: Noted.

VAN DYNE: Purple 75 and I have been working together for the last three years to confirm her status as a self-described witch and to establish her unique abilities. To date, we have established that Purple 75 has the ability to temporarily control other peoples' minds, attack people with energy beams, move objects with only her energy signature, cast illusions and transmute living beings after doing incantations, and draw significant amounts magickal energy from the environment within fifty feet of her body. She is also able to attack and kill other living beings via massive energy transfer, which has the effect of increasing her basic power levels. And tonight, we are testing another claim here at the San Francisco City Morgue, which is that she is able to temporarily resurrect the dead and speak to them.

PURPLE 75: It's called necromancy and it's an incredibly rare gift. I was five the first time I did it successfully.

VAN DYNE: I'm going to move the camera so we can document the attempt. Is that okay?

PURPLE 75: Go for it.

[The camera is moved. Purple 75 is wearing a broomstick skirt, oversized glasses, a peasant top and one of those crocheted vests, standing next to a morgue table with a body bag.]

VAN DYNE (VO): This is attempt number one for our necromancy trial.

PURPLE 75: We're going to jail for this if this ever gets out, you know that, right?

[Harkness begins chanting over the body, moving her hands. At some point, what appears to be purple energy appears, but for about 90 seconds, nothing happens until the body on the table sits up and opens its eyes]

VAN DYNE (VO): HOLY SHIT!

PURPLE 75: Be cool, Janet. 

VAN DYNE (VO): I'm trying, but that's tripping me out!

[Harkness glares at the camera and then turns her attention to the body]

PURPLE 75: Ahem. Traveler, we have called you back to your body to ask you the circumstances of your death. Who did this to you?

BODY: I did not see him.

PURPLE 75: Do you have any idea who would want you dead, traveler?

BODY: No.

PURPLE 75: OK, fine. Don't be helpful. Any messages you wish to convey before you go to your eternal rest? I mean, again.

BODY: No. But I have a message for you, Agatha Harkness.

PURPLE 75: Oh. Do you.

BODY: She misses you. She wants to talk.

[Harkness abruptly ends the spell by moving her hands, purple energy dispelled. The body drops, once again a corpse.]

PURPLE 75: Turn it off. NOW.

VAN DYNE: Agatha?

PURPLE 75: NOW.

[A small explosion. Film ends.]

[FADE IN MUSIC: Curve, "Chinese Burn"]

AGATHA: Got another love note from our number one fan slash stalker, Karl Mordo. I'm not impressed.

BILLY: This guy is way too intense for someone neither of us has met. Let's play the video we found last week.

[Replay of TikTok reel from mordos.mystic.art, hashtagged i hate u both, WitchTok, too much magic . A man, apparently one Karl Mordo, former Master of the Mystic Arts, stands up in an unclear location, holding his phone in selfie mode.]

MORDO: Agatha Harkness, it has come to my attention that not only are you a known killer of witches, not only are you a siphon who takes power undeservingly, you have cheated death itself to become a ghost. You tutor a child to use magic.

[He drops the phone and picks it up.]

MORDO: I warn you to stop this, Witch-Killer, or the consequences will not be to your liking.

[Video ends]

AGATHA: Why that guy can use TokTok and not me...anyway.

BILLY: Did you do anything to him?

AGATHA: No! I haven't dealt with the Masters of the Mystic Arts since the last Sorcerer Supreme and my last real interaction with them was in 1916 over Ra-ra-rasputin. Who was not, despite the catchy song, lover of the Russian queen.

BILLY: So why is he so salty?
AGATHA: Who knows why sorcerers do anything, but I repeat that if you have a problem with me, Karl Mordo, say it to my face.

[Editor's Note: This is the episode of Interview with the Witch Killer with the most transcript. Minimal experientials. Anyone have any theories?]

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Billy and Agatha don't interact nearly as much during the interview. If there is magic involved, it's probably between the two of them.]

BILLY: Today's interview is actually two interviews with two iconic heroes. We're here in San Francisco with Janet Van Dyne, the original Wasp, and her granddaughter, Cassie Lang, no codename. Well actually, I'm just here with Cassie. Agatha and Janet are having their own conversation in the basement that we're recording now.

CASSIE: Grandma freaked out when Ms. Marvel forwarded me her podcast ep. I really love the pod, by the way. You and your aunt are hilarious, but I really don't get what your whole deal is, even after...ugh, why are we using code names...Ms. Marvel tried to explain it in a follow-up email.

BILLY: Agatha's not really my aunt.

CASSIE: Yeah, I didn't really know how to ask but what is the relationship between you two?

BILLY: Complicated. I mean, she and I are a coven, but also she was my soul's mom's ex-best friend in the Hex and they had a whole thing that I don't know the full details on. I guess she babysat me and my brother there, too? I don't know how to explain it without totally doxxing myself.

CASSIE: I don't even know what the Hex is.

BILLY: Agatha was right. Half of the reason my mom died is that nobody cared about what happened in Westview.

CASSIE: That, and like my dad says, anything involving your family is so complicated that you have to take notes.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The interview goes on for another five minutes with no experiential, including a commercial break, which we have cut due to the lack of actionable intelligence in it. The next segment of interest is the conversation between Harkness and Van Dyne, which does trigger the first experiential for listeners.]

BILLY: So for the interview between Agatha and Janet, we put a recorder in the basement with them.

CASSIE: They don't know, do they?

BILLY: Absolutely not.

CASSIE: Love that. Can we listen now?

BILLY: Yes, yes we can.

[CROSS-FADE STINGER: Nina Simone, "I Put a Spell On You"]

JANET: I haven't seen you since 1985, Aggie. You're looking good considering.

AGATHA: Pff.

JANET: No, really. This suits you in a weird kind of way.

AGATHA: I hate that you're right, but there's a certain relief in not always being hungry. I miss having consistently working hands, though. 

JANET: You'll figure it out. I've watched you in pursuit of a goal.

AGATHA: Do you remember those experiments we were doing at UCSF? The ones that got you in so much trouble?

JANET: Does the boy know about them?

AGATHA: He knows what he needs to. I lost access to so much of my work when his idiot baby mother stole my bewitched basement.

JANET: You should probably tell him. He seems like a smart kid. Anyway, have you kept up with your research in the last forty years? And what were you thinking, picking up the Darkhold and keeping it for all that time?

AGATHA: Oh, screw you and screw The Ancient One for giving me hell about the Darkhold. Both of you can accept the killing if it provides useful information, but mention the Book of the Damned and everyone gets squeamish.

JANET: Considering what the Darkhold did to your boy's mother in a year, let alone every other known holder in history, I'm surprised it doesn't make you squeamish. Is it at least on the big list of questions?

AGATHA: Of course. It's just not high on the list, because darling Wanda decided to destroy every copy of the thing in the multiverse. (sighs) I have bigger concerns, like "can ghosts dream?" and "what are the limits of my abilities in theory as compared to in practice?"

JANET: Do me a favor and move the Darkhold question up your list. You had that thing for decades. By every known account, you should have been inside out with six eyes or at least dead from a terminal case of trying to take over the world, not slightly dead and hanging out with a teenage witch.

AGATHA: I have several theories about that part, but I can't test them yet.

JANET: Speaking of tests, I guess I should ask: can ghosts dream?

AGATHA: No. But I do.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: So who's triggering the hallucinations/experientials/weird shit? If we didn't get it in the Cassie and Billy conversation and we did in the Agatha and Janet one, I'd say it was Agatha, but can ghosts do that? We know

AGENT 2 NOTE: What do we know about ghosts?

AGENT 1 NOTE: And does any of it matter when we're talking about Agatha Harkness?

AGENT 2 NOTE: I want to see the big list of questions now.]

1972. Bitches Brew, San Francisco, California.

The bar isn't so much a bar as an illegal squat over a gay bar in the Castro, but Janet Van Dyne figures that she's seen worse. There are lots of bead curtains for doors, paisley print shawls over the light fixtures, and women slouched on couches talking and drinking.

"So you know what I heard?" a woman asks as Janet pulls her jacket around her and tries to fit in. "Lorna Wu found an ancient scroll with information about the TRUE origins of the ballad and that's like, what she's trying to bring to her version."

"Lorna Wu is full of it," another woman with long dark hair and granny glasses replies. "Everyone knows there's only one real expert on the Road and most of you losers are too afraid to talk about her, let alone ask her anything."

And then - and Janet knows she's stone-cold sober - her hands light up purple.

"Heyyyy, sister," the bartender says, thumping on the bar and pointing at purple hands. "You know what I said about starting fights."

"Fine," the woman says, her gaze falling on Janet. She smirks and turns her hands off. "What are you looking at?"

"Your hands were purple," Janet says. "Far out! How'd you do that?"

The woman looks Janet up and down from where she's slouched on the couch and chuckles. "So you're looking to score some reefer, huh?" she asks.

Janet looks away, feeling uneasy. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"Babe, there are very few people who walk into Bitches Brew, see me light up, and are like, 'Far Outl!' and all of them are looking for certain substances," the woman says. "I'm Aggie, and you are?"

"Janet," Janet says. "Hey, have you ever tried to study your powers? I mean, like, I'm a grad student teaching assistant in physics at UCSF and I think it would be groovy to like, show the world that like, witchcraft is real."

Aggie snickers. "I promise you it would not be groovy," she says, "But come on, Janet, let's blow this scene and you can tell me why you want to study my powers."

It's the start of a beautiful friendship, and not just because Janet and Aggie get so high that night that they start talking about things like the Quantum Realm and the Dark Dimension and realize they are deeply interested in similar things. Aggie has been studying the history of witches and in particular (it takes a few weeks for Aggie to admit it), herself. Janet laughs her ass off and then realizes Aggie is serious AND she's right to be fascinated by herself after seeing some of Aggie's extensive research.

Sometime during this collaboration, Aggie brings up "the incidents," starting with the Richmond Theatre Fire of 1811. Janet has heard a lot about the other type of killing, but she finds herself mostly unbothered by it, especially after a lengthy and gross discussion of the effects of so-called "succubus power", which she and Aggie rename "siphoning" after their talk.

"You clearly get some sort of sustenance from it," Janet says. "It's beyond disturbing, but you might as well blame a vampire for wanting to suck blood. That's just what you do when you're hungry. Also, I noticed in the energy field experiments we did, you regularly pull certain particles to yourself when you're gathering your purple. Maybe when you siphon, it's gathering a concentrated burst of the particles you need to expand your magic."

"Like, I'm just like, eating the energies of like, the universe, maaaan," Aggie mocks. She finds Janet's firm belief that magic is a subset of energy physics to be "mystical hippie bullshit dressed in a lab coat" which Janet quotes at Hank regularly when discussing Pym Particles.

"I'm just saying that it's probably a maladaptive evolution of the natural powers of a spirit witch. Gathering magical energy on steroids," Janet theorizes. "You're the one who said the weird incidents are different."

"They are!" Aggie complains. "I don't remember them clearly and you've tested my memory..."

Janet says it with Aggie, "It's pretty damn good for an old lady."

"And they bother me. If I'm going to provide my ex with a mountain of bodies, I should have at least gotten the power boost out of it," Aggie says to finish her thought. "Or remember why I did it."

[AGENT 1 NOTE: VFA wants a list of potential "incidents" - she wants unexpected disasters between 1811 and 2011, priority to Eastern Seaboard locations, top priority to anything in New England or San Francisco after 1940. Weird cults, natural disasters, not-so-natural disasters.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is when we get the change back to the podcast, in a segment with all four participants, somewhere around the midpoint of a longer conversation.]

[TRANSITION MUSIC - David Bowie, "The Pretty Things Are Going to Hell"]

JANET: I'm fascinated that the enchantment is on the recording device as well as the file.

CASSIE: Grandma, did you guys really hang out in the 70s? Did Grandpa know?

AGATHA: I met Hank. We got along fine, given he was a Fed.

JANET: Hank wasn't a Fed.

AGATHA: All of the agencies with fancy weapon acronyms are Feds. Hey, if I recall correctly, one of them even ended up being run by the Nazi Feds, so I don't think I'm being irrational here.

BILLY: Do you have a personal thing against them or is this just because of the criming?

AGATHA: Superhero Feds always want to dissect me. Blah blah blah, no other witch does this, blah blah blah, are you sure you're only a witch?

JANET: For the record, you told me...

AGATHA: Hey, on the record, shush.

BILLY: You get very defensive about this topic.

AGATHA: No, I don't. Because it's not a topic.

[AGENT 3 NOTE: Direct quote from VFA - "It's a topic."

AGENT 2 NOTE: What happened between those two?

AGENT 3 NOTE: Can't tell you but it involves half a billion in stolen magical artifacts and VFA being told she was no longer welcome at the Newseum due to it.

AGENT 1 NOTE: Are we allowed to comment like this?

VFA COMMENT: You are not.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Agent notes will continue to be minorly redacted if there are actual security issues, but as they give valuable information not contained in the transcripts or the experientials, they have been judged worthwhile, hence Agent 3's comment being allowed to stand. The triggered experiential starts here, for those interested in comments that start said experiences.]

1693-1701. Boston, Paris, Florence, Sokovian wilderness

Researching magic as a covenless witch - as a woman - quickly becomes how Agatha learns to run scams. On her flight out of Salem, she spends two weeks in Boston to see if there are any useful texts at Harvard College. As she is escorted out of the library, Agatha quickly discovers pretty, neatly dressed women with excellent Latin, Greek, and French count no more than common harlots with the gentlemen who had access to the books. Instead of trying to return legitimately, Agatha uses her skills with languages to gain her first books from that institution, namely King James' Daemonologie . There are always rich sons of rich men and clergymen's sons who are willing to pay to save their sinecures and Agatha was happy to take their money, use their minds, and steal exactly what she needs right out from under the sanctimonious noses of high-class men. Between her fees as a tutor, her price to give back useless books about demons and magic that are actually useless Christian sermons, and what she liberates from the students who assume a woman who is willing to sit in a foul little student garrett to drill third declensions is also willing to play a wanton, she makes enough to buy her way to France on her own.

Paris is everything Agatha dreams, with the exception that La Montespan was not a witch, but had used the reputation of La Voisin, who had been burnt for witchcraft, to create the idea that she was the true mastermind behind it to protect herself as she fell out of the King's favor. Agatha finds herself very disappointed, but uses the lesson to her own benefit later. 

She also discovers that the Sorbonne is no more interested in lady scholars of the occult than provincial Harvard. Instead, Agatha turns to disreputable booksellers and other covenless witches in the Quartier Latin and discovers that she simply must learn Italian, as the best humanists of the Renaissance were the premier mystics and occultists of the past 500 years.

"Mademoiselle, if you dream of beginning to understand the secrets she shows such unseemly interest in, you must read Pico della Mirandola in his own tongue," one of the more annoying booksellers, a young man who wears his dark hair in a greasy tail tied with a blue silk ribbon, informs her. He tries to charge Agatha twice what her books cost new and Agatha ends their relationship by taking the books and throwing his favorite manuscripts in the Seine while he stares down at her, held against the ceiling of his shop.

Rumors of a child witch (any witch who isn't at least a century old is a child to the rest of them) who murdered her coven start to trail Agatha when she reaches Florence. "It was one of those covens who went from England to the colonies in the New World," a witch gossips as Agatha reads Pico della Mirandola in Italian, unsure if she understands well enough. "No, dear, I don't know the town, who cares? But the girl killed all of them, all eight. Drained all magic and life from her sister witches. They were found as withered as husks."

Her companion gasps. "A succubus? Sofia, there hasn't been a succubus born in a thousand years," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as if she was a superstitious mortal afraid of witches, not a witch herself. "Or if there has, what witch doesn't know when she has birthed such a creature?"

"Maybe, madam, colonial witches are ignorant fools?" Agatha finally pipes in. "I have heard of the deaths, myself, but how can you be so sure the killer was a succubus?"

The first witch, Sofia, laughs. She has exquisite blonde curls barely hidden under her cap, and heavy dark eyebrows and eyes. "What, do you think succubi are busily sucking the souls from men with their cunts?" she asks. "That's what the Christians think, and the Jews as well. But a succubus has no need for a cock to steal life. My nonna told me that succubi are hungry all the time, for food, for life, for sex, even for knowledge, that nothing can ever be enough. And a witch has power and life and sex."

Agatha looks at Sofia and she aches suddenly and sharply. "I never met my nonna and my mama was always angry at me for being too curious," she says, resorting to her French rather than give herself away with her English. "If it is not too forward, signora, I am happy to pay for a bottle of wine if you would share your wisdom with me."

Sofia looks at Agatha, who is wearing a lovely rose-and-white calico mantua and who has learned to do her own hair, and her stack of books. "Oh, little sister, why are you reading that Christian philosopher, anyway?" she asks. "All they want to do is say that everything magical is their god anyway. Frauds, all of them. If you wish to know of true magic, you must find places where the Church doesn't hide the truth by making it half bullshit."

"I like to know things, signora," Agatha says. Agatha learns a great many things from Sofia in Florence, including that she is not very good at being a pliant, obedient girl in any circumstance, even if surrendering leads to greater pleasures later. Sofia, who is just as stubborn as Agatha, finds it hysterical that "a mere baby must have her way" and yields only insofar as it amuses her. Once it stops amusing her, they stop speaking, which suits Agatha just fine.

Also, Agatha realizes she's hungry, just as Sofia's nonna had warned. And all the witches of Florence start to look delicious.

She flees to Austria, thoughts of finding Sofia and draining her making Agatha feel the strange combination of guilt, arousal, and worry that she's gotten used to over the centuries. From Austria, Agatha wanders into what will one day be Romania, Bulgaria, Latveria, and Sokovia, among other countries.

It's in Sokovia, where Agatha's English-accented French passes well enough to make her understood, where she first hears of the Darkhold. Of demonologies that aren't simply a pack of fearful pious idiots interpolating myths retold into nonsense. Of Chthon, the first demon, and his temple and cult.

It's also the first time since Salem that Agatha is attacked by a coven of witches.

"You're the one who has been trying to find the mysteries," their leader howls at her one cloudy night in the Sokovian woods. "Of our Lord and Master Chthon and the Book of the Damned."

Agatha tosses her hair and sighs. Her hunger for knowledge is outweighing her hunger for the coven's lives, but not by much. "You wouldn't happen to want to tell me about that, would you?" she asks.

"Heretic!" another witch hisses. "Intruder!"

This is not going well. Agatha holds up her head, trying to look beseeching. "I would learn, if you would teach me," she says.

The leader attacks her with a blast of power and Agatha discovers she is indeed hungry, because she drains the other witch dry and wails with delight.

"Succubus," one of the witches hisses, and the rest of the coven - and there are six others - attack her at once. As their energy turns violet and Agatha begins absorbing it, the life she's taking feels like nothing but bliss. She drains each one dry, laughing at the end as she sits down and stretches out against the tree, drunk on the power. The leader had been older than Evanora and her magic darker somehow. It makes the world around Agatha seem to glow, making even the blackness of the shadows of the woods sparkle and glitter.

"They'll never want to teach you," a woman's voice warns and Agatha blinks her eyes, heart beating a bit faster. It takes a moment, but she sees Rio, the woman from Salem, with her dark hair and eyes and beautiful green dress.

"Then you teach me," Agatha says. "You don't seem afraid of me, and I'm quick-witted. I'd be a credit to you as a teacher."

Rio laughs, a husky low laugh that makes Agatha hungry again, and with seven witches' lives swirling under her skin, the need for more is only amplified.

"What will you offer me for my help this time?" Rio asks.

Agatha stands up and immediately begins shedding clothes with deliberate slowness. Once she is entirely undressed, she walks up to the green-clad witch and puts her arms around the other woman's neck.

"Will you, signora?" Agatha asks, looking up at the dark-eyed woman whose attention is focused entirely on Agatha.

Rio answers by biting hard on Agatha's lower lip, her fingers scratching down Agatha's spine. "If I teach you," she says between kisses, her teeth finding their way to Agatha's throat, "Then I'm the only one who touches you like this."

Her nails sink into Agatha's hip, pinching. "I don't need lessons in this ," Agatha snarls, her hips still canting toward Rio's as her hands find purchase on the fine green material and she pulls the other woman closer.

"You offered your body to me as the price," Rio says, her fingers moving down the swell of Agatha's hip. "I want it all to myself. I'll teach you everything you want, Agatha, but this is for me."

She grabs Agatha's hand roughly and sucks one of the fingers into her mouth before kissing her way across the palm and wrist, watching as Agatha arches back and cries out.

"Only if you'll do the same," Agatha bargains when Rio finishes her touches, leaning forward and pulling Rio's mouth onto hers.

"Greedy little witch," Rio taunts in Agatha's ear, which sends Agatha's hips bucking against Rio's skirts as both women gasp and whimper at each other. "I accept."

She lowers her lips to Agatha's breasts as her own clothing simply disappears.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: OH COME ON, IT DOES NOT END THERE. Ahem, I mean is this the full experiential?

AGENT 1 NOTE: It's not relevant to the broader file after this. This mysterious woman clearly existed in Harkness's life and they were clearly lovers. The original agreement seems to insinuate there was some sort of teacher relationship being negotiated as well as the romantic/sexual side of things.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Noted.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: As is noted elsewhere in the Maximoff-Harkness files, the episode ran long, due to the two interviews and two lead outs. I have added both due to their relevance to the files.]

AGATHA: It remains Not a Topic.

BILLY: If you want to be cryptic, fine.

AGATHA: [in a mocking tone] If you want to be cryptic, fine.

BILLY: Anyway! I'd like to thank our guests, Janet Van Dyne and Cassie Lang, for having such a long conversation with us today. This has been Interview with the Witch-Killer . I'm here, Tommy. If you hear this, please tell us where you are. I miss you.

[SECOND ENDING]

BILLY: Hi, this is Billy, code name Wiccan, from Interview with the Witch-Killer, and I wanted to make a quick update. Right after the end of our conversation, we got an email and a couple of phone calls and, guys. Guys, I think we found Tommy.

[LEAD OUT MUSIC - Merci Raines, "Small Town Witch"]

Chapter Text

Recently. Bakersfield, California .

His name is Thomas Shepherd. He's sixteen years old, about six feet tall, blond hair and hazel eyes. He likes to run. He always liked to run, the file says, but now it's the only thing he does that brings any relief from all the thoughts chasing him in his head.

Almost two months ago, Thomas Shepherd had nearly drowned. Apparently, some of his classmates had lured him to the community pool after hours and Thomas had been dumb enough that he'd thought the guys had been trying to be friends with him and that holding him under at first had been some sort of hazing ritual.

At least, that's what he's guessed. According to the interviews and witness statements, Thomas Shepherd didn't have any friends at school. He wasn't allowed to have friends. His foster parents had been too busy cooking meth in the double-wide they lived in near his high school to let Thomas bring kids over. They used a belt on him when he mouthed off, something found on examination when Thomas's almost-dead body was brought into the emergency department. Further, they'd been using Thomas as cheap labor, taking all his earnings from his job at Burger King where he worked twenty hours a week, along with gigs doing yard work.

He couldn't swim. No one had ever bothered to teach him.

This has all been explained to him by the parade of social workers, case workers, court-appointed advocates, and therapists who have been in and out since Tommy woke up in the ICU and especially since Tommy has started asking about his missing family and if they've arrived yet.

"Where's my brother?" Tommy had asked. "And my mom?"

That had brought a whole new therapist, a guy who specialized in traumatic delusions. Apparently when kids almost died, sometimes they came up with some wild theories. He had explained that Thomas Shepherd's mother had died of a drug overdose two months after he was born and his biological father had not been named on the birth certificate. He didn't have a brother or a mother.

"But I'm a twin," Tommy had objected. "And maybe she's not my mom. Maybe my twin is in foster care and he got adopted and she's helping him, but they're my family."

"Near-death experiences can cause very confusing, very real sensations," his therapist had explained. "But they also aren't the same as reality. Both things can be true."

"They're real, both of them," Tommy had insisted. "My brother isn't like other people. Neither of them are. This isn't some dumb fake memory I made up to avoid going into the light. I already went into the light, I think. And then they came along and brought me back."

"So you're telling me it feels like your brother and...his mother?...brought you back from death?" the therapist had said. Tommy knew what he was doing. There was this thing they did, "reframing", which was basically meant to say what you were saying back at you so that you realized it was delulu. But Tommy also remembered what happened and he wasn't going to back down about it.

"Yes, dude," Tommy said. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think they're both...weird. Like, I don't know, wizards or some shit. Maybe they're like Doctor Strange, or that Scarlet Witch chick!"

"What makes you think they're Doctor Strange or the Scarlet Witch, who I must point out has been dead for over a year?" the therapist asks.

"I don't think they're actually Doctor Strange or the Scarlet Witch!" Tommy said. "I'm saying they're LIKE them, that's all. Because they could talk in my head."

Because they could bring back the dead , Tommy thought but didn't say. Because I don't remember anything before Thomas Shepherd drowned . Because I don't think I'm Thomas Shepherd.

Now-ish. State Route 99, passing through Fresno.

"What if it's not him?" Billy asks as Agatha stares at the pen and notebook on the dashboard like she wants to set them on fire. "What if this is some prank?"

"Then we move on to the next lead," Agatha says, her eyes still on the pen. "When they ask us to sign paperwork, how are we going to handle it?"

"Telekinesis with a small illusion to make it look like your hand is doing the writing," Billy says mechanically. "But what if it is Tommy? What if we found him? That's crazy, right? It's only been two months. This kid's name is even Thomas Shepherd. That's weird!"

"Your body's name is William Kaplan. Wanda makes everything weird somehow," Agatha points out. "Please shut up for three minutes, I'm trying to figure out how I can write in your damn notebook. This time I'm trying using my brain in place of my hand."

Billy sighs. Agatha is relentless when she's focused on something and she wants to use a pen and paper to write. She's built up a whole head of steam about needing to be able to use her own hands to write. Billy isn't quite sure why. They've had more success with a phone; something about the electrical energy needed to use a phone is easier in terms of incorporeal manipulation. Billy thinks when they get back to Eastview, he can probably rig up his laptop for Agatha to use while he's at school...which makes him realize something else.

"Oh my God. What am I going to tell the Kaplans when I get home?" Billy asks frantically. "I mean, we only got away with this California trip because it was a personal invitation from Janet Van Dyne . What am I going to do if I bring Tommy home and I'm like 'so hey, I need to talk about some stuff'? Where is Tommy even going to live?"

"That was forty-five seconds," Agatha snaps. "And maybe, maybe it's time you start telling people who you really are, Billy Maximoff ."

She glares at him and Billy takes his eyes off the road for two seconds to glare back.

"Oh, yeah, great idea," Billy says angrily. "Hi, Mom and Dad. So the whole reason I keep running off and meeting people like Ms. Marvel and Janet Van Dyne is because I'm not actually your kid. Your son William died in the car accident. I stole his body because I'm the son of the Scarlet Witch and I have magic like hers. This is my brother Tommy, whose body we also stole from a dead kid. And in case you weren't already calling to put me in an inpatient ward, this is my spirit guide, Agatha Harkness, who helped me bring my twin back from the dead. She's a ghost witch who was under my dead mom's spell and now we're a coven."

"Sounds like you have your speech all planned out to me," Agatha points out. "Are you really planning to go back to Eastview High and act like nothing happened? Do you think that's how this works? You're a powerful witch, you are in a coven with the ghost of a powerful witch, and your soul's mother was the Scarlet Witch. We already have that sorcerer jackass stalking us and it's only going to get worse once your listeners figure out who you are. If this Shepherd kid is your twin, his life has been shit. He's going to need you, not the Billy who's still pretending to be William Kaplan."

Billy smacks the horn. Agatha sighs.

"I would never do that to Tommy," he says.

"Famous last words, kiddo," Agatha replies, folding her arms. She's so damn annoying sometimes. Billy wishes he could shove her out of the car, it's not like Agatha can actually die. "I'm saying. I have extensive experience with Maximoffs in denial. You want to pretend you're inhumanly heroic and self-sacrificing, but you have nice Kaplan parents who love you at home. You have a nice boyfriend. I may be around, but you could probably ignore me until I gave up if you really wanted."

Billy scowls. "I tried to banish you and you managed to stay," he says. "Also you have gotten stronger since you reappeared. I'm not sure I could get rid of you now."

"Not strong enough," Agatha mutters.

"I don't know a single other ghost in history who can materialize enough to pass as human until someone tries to touch them and who gets stronger rather than weaker after their death," Billy says. "You sent Janet down THAT rabbit hole, too, didn't you?"

"I need my hands," Agatha says petulantly. "I know I have most of my magic. I can feel it there, waiting. But without my hands to cast, it's ten thousand spoons when what I need is a machete."

Billy shakes his head. "Do you ever get tired of hustling for the next big score?" he asks. "Once you get your hands back - and it has only been two months since you died - it's gonna be something else. You keep telling me all about how much you've scammed and stolen and...where is it? Is it never enough? There's always some new thing for you."

Agatha looks at him, clearly confused. "And?" she asks.

"What are you after, once we find Tommy?" Billy asks. "Why do you need your hands?"

"Do you think everything is done once we find Tommy? That my afterlife is JUST about helping the family that put me in an early grave?" Agatha asks with a laugh. "Don't get me wrong, I want to find him. But yes, I do have my own desires. For example, I wouldn't hate getting my bewitched basement full of magical artifacts, research, spell books, et cetera, back. It would help us both immensely. I think I have the Wand of Watoomb down there."

Billy makes a noise. "That's not an answer," he says.

"It's AN answer," Agatha replies. "Anyway, what are you going to say when they ask you if you had the same problems as our potential Tommy with memory and such?"

Now-ish. Bakersfield, California.

After the incident with Joel, they stick Tommy in another halfway house. Not long after that, Tommy goes for a run and discovers that the incident with Joel wasn't a once-off.

He's fast. He's not just normal fast, he's unusually fast. This time, he keeps it to himself. His therapist has been explaining to him that it's very common for children who undergo traumatic incidents like Thomas Shepherd's near-drowning to believe they are tied to the Avengers or that they are the secret children of superheroes or aliens and so on. Tommy doesn't need to add that he thinks he has superpowers. That's a one-way ticket to an inpatient stay and Tommy needs to be somewhere they can find him.

They have to be looking for him. Tommy lets himself sink into his memories of the conversation. The first thing he remembers since went into the water and almost didn't come out.

He hears her voice clearly, giving the orders to his brother. You breathe for yourself, you breathe for him, you breathe for everything he is. You hold it all inside of you. She's got a low voice, hard and unsentimental, but Tommy isn't afraid of it.

Tommy breathes with them in his memories. They don't know he's there, but he is. He's scared out of his mind, but he knows they're there with him, that they're trying to help him.

But it can't stay there, the memories, the feelings. You can't keep him. She's warning his brother. Keep your eyes closed, no matter what .

The boy screams and Tommy knows him to his bones at this moment. His brother. His twin is keeping him safe, he's going to help him. Hovering near him is the woman who is not his mother, guiding him to help Tommy.

You can’t keep him, so where does he go? she yells at Tommy's brother. It's so dark where they are. It's only his brother's heartbeat and the unshakeable confidence this woman has in his brother that keeps Tommy from trying to run back into the dark.

Someone slams a hand against the doorframe of his room. No one will share a room with him since Joel lost his shit over Tommy "appearing outta nowhere like some freak", so he has it to himself, even without a door. "Thomas Shepherd," a man's harsh voice yells.

"That's me. What's up?" Tommy says.

"Get up, Shepherd," the man says, stomping into the room. He's the latest social worker assigned to Tommy's case and he clearly hates it. Not that Tommy blames him. "You've got some people who want to talk to you."

"I already talked to the therapist and my advocate this week," Tommy says. "Who wants me now?"

"Your aunt and your brother, supposedly," the man says. "As if your case wasn't weird enough. You don't have either of those, but this Karen is waving paperwork and throwing fits so..."

Tommy sits up. "Are you kidding?" he asks, already reaching down to pull his jeans off the floor.

"I wish I was," the social worker says, handing Tommy a shirt. "Your auntie is bringing down hell. She's got a whole phone book of paperwork about how social services misplaced you here and you were supposed to go to her when your parents died and this is all a big conspiracy against you and your brother and blah blah blah. My supervisor woke me up on my day off to tell me to get your ass over there ASAP, so pack your shit and let's go before your auntie calls in some flying monkeys."

Tommy's heart is pounding as the aggravated social worker waits for him to get dressed, splash water on his face, pull together his backpack and trash bag of what little he owns, and brush his teeth. He hands Tommy a banana as they leave the house and get into a shitty little hatchback to head to the social services offices, where Tommy's family is waiting.

His auntie . Well, that could be true. His brother didn't talk to her like a mother in the conversation. And she clearly cares. Hell, even the idea that Tommy has an adult who cares about him is just about the only reason Tommy didn't walk into traffic after he woke up in the ICU with no parents and a bunch of fucked-up memories of almost dying.

Find him a place! the woman had yelled at his brother. Tommy wanted to believe her, that it was all as simple as she made it. There was a place for him and his brother would find it.

He’s afraid, Tommy's brother warned. Tommy had been afraid. Something they were doing was wrong, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to be with his brother.

Oh, but he has you with him now! He has both of them. His brother and her, they're both there, trying to find him a place. She'll protect them. Tommy knows this as much as he knows the other boy is his brother.

They argue a lot, the woman and his brother. They're strangely comfortable in the way they do it. His brother doesn't have to hide being afraid or angry at his...aunt, he guesses. Tommy wants to feel safe like that.

I can’t find a place, Tommy's brother had told her.

She was snarly back, but in a no-nonsense way. Ah, don’t give me that! A hundred and twenty bodies empty out every minute, find one!

That bothers Tommy, just a little. If his body had been emptied out, if he was not Thomas Shepherd, then why did the name Tommy feel right? Who had he been before he was Thomas Shepherd?

"Wake up, Shepherd," the case worker says. "We're here."

Tommy takes a deep breath. Whatever else he feels, he's here and apparently, so are they. The offices next to the juvenile courts look as janky as they always do, bleached out under the relentless Central Valley sun. There are a surprising number of cars in the lot for a random Saturday. His auntie can apparently pull some strings.

Someone scurries by them and looks at Tommy and then the case worker. "That the kid?" she asks. "Cuz Jesus Christ, somehow we're all in trouble over this. The aunt is throwing some extensive paperwork down and I don't know how...I mean, I've seen this kid's file! I would have told you no way..."

"Shhh, shh, shh," the case worker says. "I got the lecture. I think we just get it over with as fast as we can and lick our wounds later."

The case worker leads Tommy down a hallway to one of the fancier offices where judges meet with kids sometimes, or mostly lawyers and advocates. He knocks on the door, which opens to reveal another overworked Californian civil servant with frantic eyes.

"That the Shepherd kid?" she asks. "Thank God. Come in, come in."

The door to the office swings open. Tommy feels weak in the knees when he looks at the two people waiting along with the supervisor and the judge's representative. Because it's them. He knows he's never seen them before, but he remembers their voices and he knows their faces.

His twin brother has a crop of curly dark hair and dark eyes, one of those super-Goth gay kids that would get ragged on by everyone at his halfway house. But he seems tougher, somehow, than the emos that run around Tommy's old high school. Something around his eyes suggests that if someone took a swing at him, that guy would get a surprise.

His aunt is somehow everything and nothing like Tommy expects. She has dark hair with a single white streak in it. Blue eyes that take in everything. An expensive-looking but tasteful purple pantsuit. A fancy brooch on a necklace. She looks like someone's mom and when her eyes fall on Tommy, she smiles slightly.

"It's him," she says, nodding with satisfaction. "Good to see you, Tommy."

"Tommy," his brother says, looking at him with awe on his face. "Is it really you?"

Tommy's face is wet. "Yeah," he says. "I think it is."

The boy holds out his arms and Tommy rushes into them, without even realizing that he's doing it or worrying that he did the speed thing to do it. He hugs his brother closely, tears rolling down their cheeks and his brother crushes him in a hug and they're both sobbing like babies and Tommy doesn't even give a shit.

He's safe. Oh, God, he's safe and his brother is here and he's never going to be alone again.

Billy knows better than to trust Agatha blindly, but she is a master of cons and he has never been more in awe of anyone's ability to spew a line of absolute bullshit and get the entire world to believe her.

First of all, she looks amazing. She's mostly been wearing her old-timey ghost dress and white hair when she materializes, but for this adventure, Agatha is rocking mostly dark-brown hair with one white streak, flat-ironed and shiny. She is wearing a cream silk blouse, the brooch at her throat. Her pantsuit is a deep violet, slightly wrinkled as if she'd been wearing it down from San Francisco to go to war against Kern County Social Services. The fake handbag is a black Tory Burch, and she is rocking a pair of Louboutins.

Second, she has zeroed in on the case worker's supervisor as her scapegoat and looks like she's about to slap the shit out of him, legally and physically, with the reams of manufactured evidence she and Billy created together when they got the information Kamala's friend Bruno had found.

"This demonstrates my point," Agatha says. "Thomas Shepherd is a gross failure of your county's incompetent foster care system. My research, the evidence that my investigators and lawyers have uncovered, what you said yourself about this unusual incident with the former roommate, my sister's will, and this reunion strongly suggests that my nephew, Tommy Maximoff, was kidnapped due to his mother's prominent role on the Avengers as well as anti-witch sentiments at large, and hidden by someone with a grudge against my poor sister, God rest her soul."

She manages some absolutely gorgeous fake tears. Billy wants to smirk because she's so damn good at this, but that's not what he's supposed to do, and besides, Tommy is here with them at last and Billy has better things to do than watch Agatha pull off another successful scam that they'd spent hours rehearsing today anyway.

But this line should absolutely not work. Everyone knows Wanda Maximoff had a twin named Pietro from Sokovia who died fighting Ultron. Agatha looks nothing like Wanda. The existence of an older Maximoff sister would not be a secret. Wanda had died in disgrace over tearing the multiverse apart and wasn't the type of person who had a will. Hell, Tommy and Billy were way too old to be Wanda's kids the normal way, if anyone took the time to think about it. Their plan is based on nothing except Agatha's ability to lie and their mutual ability to con the hell out of anyone they agree needs to do what they want them to do.

It's absolutely going to work.

"Oh, shit, my mom really is the Scarlet Witch?" Tommy suddenly says. "I just said that in therapy because she's the only Avenger I knew who did like, magic stuff."

"You'll be lucky if my counsel doesn't recommend a lawsuit over the damage to Tommy's memory," Agatha says darkly. "And yes, dear, your mother was indeed Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. I'm your mother's older sister, Agneszka - or, Agatha, depending on who you talk to, and this is your twin brother, Billy. Just in case your memory was FURTHER harmed by your mother's incompetent enemies and their terrible attempts at magic memory alteration."

Billy coughs because otherwise he's going to laugh, and pounds his arm against Tommy's back. Tommy looks at him, confused.

"Dude, you okay?" Tommy asks.

"Sorry," Billy says. "I'll tell you in the car."

Tommy snorts. "You think they're gonna just let me go with you?" he asks. "This is the system, bro. Auntie Ags didn't even bring a lawyer with her."

Billy laughs again. "Please call her that forever," he says.

Agatha is still yelling at all the social workers and judicial people in the background. "As I was saying, this codicil to Wanda Maximoff's will clearly states that in the event of her death and the death or dismantling of her late common-law partner, the artificial intelligence known as The Vision, or Vision, custody of the Maximoff twins should be ceded to her siblings. Given our brother Pietro's tragic death in Sokovia against Ultron, I am the only remaining Maximoff sibling. Meanwhile, several unusual clauses in international law surrounding the children of Avengers..."

Tommy narrows his eyes. "Wait, our dad is a robot?" he asks Billy. "How does a robot die?"

"It gets weird," Billy says. "Anyway, sit down. Watch the queen work."

Tommy groans, but he sits down next to Billy as Agatha rails about how clearly, she's going to have to get her connections on the Avengers to help sort this out and how she can put in a phone call to all of them to attest to the fact that Wanda Maximoff wanted her big sister to take her sons if anything was to happen to her and how heartbroken Agatha had been to discover that not only had her sister died in that "horrible accident on Mount Wundagore" but that her beloved nephews "who I have regularly cared for since their infancy" had disappeared.

There are pictures. Billy looks delighted to see them. "This is apparently kind of true," he whispers to Tommy. "That's what we looked like when we were five and when we were ten."

Tommy looks. There's a picture of the three of them, Agatha in a purple sweater hugging a twin on each side in a house. Another shows them in Halloween costumes, running around a redheaded woman who must be their mother, with Agatha standing nearby in a witch costume.

"I was very close to my sister," Agatha says. "If you contact anyone in Westview, New Jersey, they will attest that we lived next door to each other and that I regularly cared for the boys when Wanda and Vision needed the help. And all I want is to fulfill my sister's last wishes and reunite the Maximoff family after all of the horrible things we've gone through."

She covers her eyes with her hand, clearly overcome with emotion. Billy also closes his eyes, not so much overcome with emotion as by triumph. They have them, and if anyone tries to complain, he's ready for plan B, which requires some discreet mind control and maybe a faked judge's order, but as Agatha said, "that leaves a trail and we're trying to minimize that."

It does take another ten minutes, but the beleaguered social services guys finally agree to let Tommy go with them "for the weekend" and to get back in touch on Monday during regular business hours. Billy almost feels sorry for them - hell will freeze over before Agatha Harkness ever returns to Bakersfield - but also, there's no way they're walking out of here without Tommy. He can tell that the whole con is also working on Tommy, who is looking at Agatha like she's his best friend and Billy is going to have to warn him - but also, Billy isn't unimpressed.

"We'll revisit this Monday," the judicial representative says. "You're free to take the boy once you've signed the paperwork."

Before Billy can stop him, Tommy jumps up and rushes over to Agatha, who shakes her head discreetly.

"Tommy, Auntie Ags isn't a big hugger," Billy says, also shaking his head.

Tommy reaches out and hugs Agatha anyway. Billy is ready to blast their way out, but to his surprise and to Agatha's, Tommy is easily able to pull her in and rest his head on Agatha's shoulder, closing his eyes with relief.

"Thank you for coming," he says to Agatha. "I knew you would."

Agatha tilts her head - something about what Tommy is saying intrigues her, Billy can tell - and she smiles at him fondly.

"I'm glad we found you, Tommy," she says. "But let me take care of this so we can go."

She looks at the pen on his paperwork and picks it up. Billy is about to yell, but the pen fits easily in her hand and Agatha starts signing her fake name over and over. Agnezska Maximoff appears on the paperwork as Agatha's smile gets broader and more vicious.

Finally, she turns to the case worker, the vicious smile still on her pretty face. "It's been a pleasure," she lies, holding out a hand. Billy actually flinches, but the case worker takes her hand and shakes it briefly. "Let's go, boys. The rest of you? The lawyers will be in touch."

The ugly sedan fits the three of them easily, and Billy moves Agatha's seat up so they have more room in the back for Tommy and she doesn't argue. His one backpack and trash bag of crap fits in the trunk. Billy has his phone hooked in, playing some Goth music shit that's not Tommy's vibe but is clearly Billy's.

Without saying anything, Billy gets in the driver's seat, even though he's clearly not twenty-five, starts the car and he, Agatha, and Tommy go up the 99 toward SFO, where apparently Billy and Agatha have friends who are going to send them all back to New Jersey on a private plane. Tommy wants to point out this breaks any agreement they just signed with Kern County social services, but it's also clear his newfound family doesn't care much about rules, except the ones about what Wanda Maximoff and her common-law partner formally requested in the event of both of their deaths. 

"So okay, okay, okay, what are we doing?" Tommy asks after half an hour of silence. "I mean, how did that even work? It was sick, whatever it was."

"It was," Agatha says absently. She's spent the entire trip so far staring out the window, moving her hands restlessly. "I signed the paper. You saw me sign it, right, Billy?"

"You did," Billy agrees. "And you shook hands with the social worker. After the hug."

"Why are you two freaking out?" Tommy asks. "You're acting like you saw a ghost."

"It's less that we saw a ghost and more that we just saw a ghost manipulate corporeal matter," Agatha says. "Hi, it's me. I'm a ghost."

Tommy blinks. "Excuse me, what?" he asks. "That's a joke, right?"

"No, it's not," Billy says. 

"Were you a ghost when you two found me a body?" Tommy asks. That earns him an alarmed look from his brother and his aunt. "Okay, what is UP with you two? You both seem a lot less self-assured than you were in the social services office."

Agatha sighs. "In the office, Billy and I were running a con that we're extremely good at," she says. "And we were not aware that you heard us when we found you a body."

Tommy shifts uncomfortably. "The first thing I remember, actually? It's your voice," he says. "Both of your voices, but Agatha's first. You said... 'you breathe for yourself, you breathe for him. You breathe for everything he is.' I heard you calling for me. I felt both of you calling me and how much...how much you both loved me."

He really hates how emotional he's being, but it seems important to share and no one else in the car seems like they know how.

Billy, as much as he can behind the wheel, gives Agatha a look . "What do you mean, you knew both of us loved you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Like I said. I could feel you both with me," Tommy says, trying to shrug, but he can't. It meant too much to him to shrug it off. "Billy was like, right next to me, like we were almost one person. But Auntie Ags was in the background, sort of hovering. And she was like...I mean, you were like...warm. Protective. Proud of Billy. Ready to fight whoever would be mad that we were together." 

Tommy is super embarrassed, and from the look of it, so is Agatha. She looks like she's trying to sink into the seat and has a hand over her throat. "You totally found me a place, but she guided you the whole way, bro," he finishes.

Billy chuckles and Agatha sinks down further in her seat. "Is that right," he says.

"Yeah, FINE, it's right," Agatha mutters. "I am in fact proud of you. It was a big fat fuck you to Rio's little 'it's you or it's the boy' bullshit. You found an exception to her rules. Did she really think I wasn't going to help you with that? I have spent centuries trying to find exceptions to her rules."

"Who's Rio?" Tommy asks. "What rules? You guys are so freaking cryptic."

"It's an unfortunate side effect of having way too much backstory for normal people," Agatha says. "Like your parents, for example. I don't even know if they're actually dead, to be honest."

"Are you still getting the flashes?" Billy asks, shaking his head.

"Occasionally," Agatha says. "I had a lot of dreams when I was alive, during the period where Wanda stuck me in brain prison. Sometimes they conflict."

Tommy frowns. "If you're Wanda's big sister, why would she put you in brain prison?" he asks. "What even is brain prison?"

Agatha and Billy both crack up laughing. "I'd pay to see her face right now," Agatha says. "No, I am not Wanda's sister, kiddo. Consider me the fairy godmother the Maximoff family deserves."

Tommy is getting more and more confused. "Why are you two laughing?" he asks.

"It's because it's so complicated that if we don't laugh, we'll cry," Agatha says lightly. "How much do you know about Avenger history? The Battle of Earth? Thanos? Have you heard of the Hex? What do you believe about death and the afterlife? I don't even know where to begin to explain things."

Billy nods along, clearly trying to focus on the road. "Sorry to laugh at you, Tommy," he says. "When we get back to San Francisco, we'll try to answer all your questions. To be honest, I don't really know everything. For example, Agatha has been playing coy about what went on in the Hex."

"I'm not being coy!" Agatha objects. "Your mother created a whole custom reality to avoid her grief over your father and I decided to get involved because of my equally complicated life. Time didn't have any more meaning than it did on the Road, so there's not one explanation of what happened there. Really, I wish I could get a copy of Wanda's Hex show for you. It would explain everything so much faster, but I doubt she broadcast all the things we did in my basement, which would REALLY explain things."

"Wait, what's that?" Billy asks, looking at the road. "Is that a person?"

A man wearing flowing green robes and wearing a sheathed sword is standing in the middle of the road, which is mysteriously low on other cars. Billy hits the brakes hard and just avoids colliding with the man.

This turns out to be a mistake, as the man draws his sword and uses it to knock their Hyundai sub-compact sedan into the air with it.

"TOMMY!" Billy screams, trying to shield his brother as the car flips and hits the pavement with full force. Glass goes everywhere as airbags attempt to deploy.

Tommy groans, but he seems only a little hurt - a couple of cuts, probably some bruises. Billy feels shaken up but not hurt, and Agatha's dead and already in front of the car, trying to fake normality.

"Oh my GOODNESS," she starts when the man with the sword turns, sees Agatha, and aims the sword at her throat. Billy starts scrambling at his seatbelt as Tommy somehow finds a way out of the car first.

"Agatha Harkness," the man roars. "Did you want to make good on your on-air threats, then?"

Agatha puts her hands on her hips and glowers, apparently trying to block the man's direct view of the twins. She does not look happy. "Who the hell are you?" she asks. "No, I don't want to make good on any threats, you absolute freak show! I was talking shit on a podcast as bait!"

"Oh, dear," the man says, smirking slightly. "If it isn't the consequences of your own actions, then. Karl Mordo, former Master of the Mystic Arts, by the way."

Tommy is staring at the guy in his green robes and sword, and at Billy, who has his crown and superhero garb on now that they're both out of the car. 

"Dude, what is going on?" Tommy says. "Is that guy trying to kill us?"

Billy glowers and his hand lights up blue. "It's easier to assume that people are always trying to kill us," he says.

Mordo and Agatha are circling each other. "The children can go," he says. "You, I'll simply banish, given that you are a ghost and have no actual magical abilities anymore."

"Try it," Billy yells, aiming a blast of power at Mordo. "We're a coven. I don't ditch my coven."

"Billy, I don't need help," Agatha yells as Mordo's eyes light up, looking at Billy's get up and his hands. He twists his hands and shoots back at Billy.

Tommy shouts and knocks Billy out of the way with his speed, sending them both sprawling against the pavement. Tommy is a little stunned, looking up at the battle that seems ready to take place.

"I see," Mordo says. "Twins. One fast, one weird. What else have you been hiding behind the taunts, Agatha Harkness?"

"That's not your business, sorcerer," Agatha says, her eyes sharp as her fingers twist. There's no energy flowing yet, but she seems ready to attack. "You have one last chance to leave."

Mordo laughs. "You're dead," he says, starting to gesture. "You have no magic. You are a mere memory of a woman who thinks you are some sort of power. A ghost in all senses of the word."

His power begins to build and without warning, a large circle of yellow magic shoots from his hands and into Agatha's translucent center mass.

"Go back to hell," he says, turning his back on her.

Agatha shudders for a second as the magic hits her, crumpling as if she's been punched in the gut and going slightly more transparent. 

And then the yellow energy turns purple.

"Oh, no," Billy says from the pavement, pushing up to his feet, shielding Tommy behind him.

Agatha twists her hands, and the yellow energy continues to pull from Mordo and turn purple as she begins to absorb it.

"Do you know what kind of magic this is?" Agatha asks, advancing on the sorcerer, who has sunk to his knees as the power keeps flowing. "Some asshole dubbed it 'succubus power', but Janet Van Dyne and I realized it's a little more complicated. First of all, it has nothing to do with my sex appeal, which is legendary. But every sorcerer learns the world is full of magical energy, don't they? Manipulating it is the whole basis of sorcery. But with my ability, all I have to do to pull large amounts of power is this."

Agatha curls her fingers and Mordo wails and tries to shrink into a ball as more energy flows out of him.

"I've been told it's agonizing," Agatha says calmly, looking at her enemy slowly die. "For other people, this is forbidden magic. You need something like the Darkhold to learn how to do it and there's a limit on how much power one person can absorb before it starts warping them into something else. Me? I can just do it if I can get a hook into the power. It's an open question, for example, if a Celestial could stop me if they decided to make that mistake."

Mordo gasps, choking on the ground.

"Agatha, you've made your point," Billy says as Mordo continues to wither.

"No, I haven't," Agatha says, still maintaining her deadly calm. "I don't like threats, and I especially don't like threats to my boys. So you..."

And with another twist of her hands, she stops the siphon, leaving a near-dead, though still breathing, Karl Mordo gasping and twitching on the highway.

"Get out of my sight or I'll finish the job," Agatha says.

Mordo groans, pulls himself to his feet, and quickly escapes through a portal, leaving Agatha and the twins with a destroyed rental car on the side of the freeway. Tommy is hyperventilating by the side of the road and Billy is staring at Agatha in unalloyed surprise.

"You didn't kill him," Billy says. "And you still have your purple. Did you know?"

"Wasn't sure, but I had a theory," Agatha says. "And I'm pretty sure this proved it. Let me just..."

She focuses on her right hand. Purple energy sparks up and Agatha moves the wreck of the car to the side of the road, clearing debris as well.

"Gotcha," she mutters to herself. "Anyway, who's got a phone? We're gonna have to call Janet for a ride."

Chapter Text

Episode 3 Reactions

Reaction 1

(originally found on RealMsMarvelJC's TikTok, hashtagged IwtWK, WitchTok, i hate u both, and approximately 15 other popular tags)

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Apparently after Jennifer Kale's TikTok about the podcast, "i hate u both" became a popular tag about Interview with the Witch Killer . The videos are hilarious, there's merch via Kale, and it got even more popular after it was shouted out on Las Culturistas . Hence why it's on this TikTok]

[A short video of a young woman, who appears to be the actual Ms. Marvel, is detailed here. She is in close-up, wearing her costume and mask, with a worried face. No background music, but the words CALL ME NOW are on the video.]

MS. MARVEL: BILLY, YOU HAVE TO CALL ME, MY PARENTS CALLED YOUR PARENTS.

(long pause)

MS. MARVEL: My parents didn't realize that Agatha was, well, a ghost, or you know, a criminal mastermind. They were disappointed because my baba really loves her movies and then they went on Brujapedia and I am so sorry, I didn't even think about how you might not be out to your parents because NOBODY HAS A MORE COMPLICATED DEAL, OH MY GOD. Just...call me or answer your phone or something.

Reaction 2

(originally found on c.lang.08's TikTok, hashtagged they found Tommy, IwtWK, WitchTok, i hate u both, and approximately 15 other popular tags)

[A young woman, who appears to be Cassie Lang, is standing in a basement with extremely expensive lab equipment behind her. She is shifting uncomfortable.]

CASSIE: Billy, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PHONE CALL? What the hell is this video?

[A brief video clip of a man, identified as Karl Mordo, hitting a car with a sword, and the car flying into the air, surrounded by blue light.]

CASSIE: Does Tommy have super-speed? Was that really Agatha doing the purple magic thing?

[Another brief video clip of a young man running at super-speed, pulling another young man from the debris. The clip switches to a woman walking forward, purple energy flowing from her fingertips.]

CASSIE: And yeah, they one hundo p found Tommy, that's a whole deal. I'll let Billy share the details when he's ready.

Reaction 3

Instagram from jennifer.kale.kare

(tagline: u fucking solo'd karl mordo. Hashtagged WitchTok, Witchstagram, i hate u both, realwitches, coventwo, IwtWK, Witches Road, and twelve other popular tags)

[Another video from Jennifer Kale, the CEO of Kale Kare. Kale is wearing an i hate u both v-neck t-shirt, dangly gold earrings, jeans, and strappy black sandals. Her expression is pained.]

KALE: Good morning, my Kale Coven. I assume y'all have seen the video going around WitchTok of Karl Mordo, former Master of the Mystic Arts, hitting a damn car with a sword and still getting pimp-slapped by everyone's favorite serial killer, Agatha Harkness.

[A blurry frame grab of Agatha Harkness, power draining Karl Mordo with the words WTF AGATHA? HOW? ]

KALE: Never mind that Mordo is on a whole-ass crusade to reduce the number of people with magic in the world, never mind that he was in the running to be Sorcerer Supreme, never mind that he hit a car with a sword. You're a GHOST, girl. You aren't supposed to be soloing guys like Karl Mordo with your ghost hands. What the hell? Anyone have any ideas what is going on, because I don't.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: I find it interesting that it wasn't an episode that caused this reaction so much as the leaked video from a bystander of the fight between Karl Mordo and Agatha Harkness, though given they decided to fight on a busy state freeway, it was inevitable. But this is also the point where various superheroes admitted to paying attention to the podcast or being connected to finding Tommy.]

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode Four Transcript with Notes from Editor and Agents assigned to MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS [REDACTED]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: No intro for this episode, which does appear to have been recorded on the plane between SFO and Newark and sent out as the plane landed.]

BILLY: OK, so we're doing an impromptu episode of the pod on a private plane because our lives literally just blew up.

AGATHA: Calm down, it was just our rental car.

BILLY: Why are only you allowed to be dramatic?

AGATHA: Our rental car blew up because a sorcerer hit it with his wizard sword and I can occasionally fully materialize and use my magic, is that not dramatic enough for you?

BILLY: My parents found out about the podcast! From Ms. Marvel's parents! Who also did not realize you were a ghost! Do you understand how much trouble we're in?

AGATHA: How am I in trouble? I'm dead! Like Jen says, you can't arrest the dead.

TOMMY: So you guys just record to see who can be the biggest drama queen and sometimes Auntie Ags tells stories about how she did cool shit, huh?

AGATHA: By the way, we found Tommy. Billy's gonna have to record a new intro.

BILLY: I wish I could banish you to the Dark Dimension when you're like this.

AGATHA: Ooh, sounds like a family reunion to me!

TOMMY: Yeah, they don't even hear me. If any of you podcast people could see this, you'd laugh your ass off. Anyway, this is Tommy Maximoff and this is my brother and auntie's podcast.

[Intro music: "Midnight Ride", Orville Peck & Kylie Minogue]

BILLY: So we took a short break to decide what we wanted to talk about and we've decided that our cover is all the way blown, so why not talk about all the details?

AGATHA: I was outvoted 2-1.

TOMMY: You both promised me you'd tell me everything on the plane. We're on the plane. This seems fair, dudes.

AGATHA: Fine. I said I'd do it. So let's go. Everyone knows my name, so what's yours, Billy? Tommy?

BILLY: Um. My name is Billy Maximoff.

TOMMY: I already said I was Tommy Maximoff.

AGATHA: Gasp. Maximoff? Like Wanda Maximoff, the former Avenger who died in mysterious circumstances about a year or so ago?

TOMMY: You're being a clown, but yeah, like Wanda Maximoff. According to YOU, Agatha, Wanda Maximoff created our souls three years ago in a thing called the Hex.

AGATHA: According to me? I was literally there! Somehow she used the...soul? Essence? I don't know how you quantify what Vision's contribution was...of the Vision to create you, too.

BILLY: Vision? Do you mean the artificial intelligence created by Tony Stark?

AGATHA: Why, yes I do, Billy! And do you know what the Hex is? I hear they claimed it was an Avengers training exercise gone wrong, but it was not.

TOMMY: Are you guys really going to do this, because you're both so corny. What was the Hex? Why are you both so salty about it?

BILLY: The Hex was a false reality created by Wanda Maximoff, in Westview, New Jersey, three years ago. Agatha here could feel it because of her witchcraft and lust for power - you said it first, Agatha - and decided to infiltrate and figure out what it was.

AGATHA: The Hex was also a bunch of sitcoms Wanda used to process her feelings and broadcast out into the universe. It enslaved an entire town to play dolls with her - magic on autopilot. I've only seen something like it one other time, and that was Billy's pocket reality.

BILLY: Oh, are we really going to talk about it now?

AGATHA: Cards on the table, kiddo. If I have to talk about how I tried to drain your mother like a juice box and got busted monologuing, you get to tell everyone about the Witches' Road.

BILLY: That's only going to make you look bad.

AGATHA: They call me the Witch-Killer already, how's it gonna be worse?

BILLY: How is it worse? You created a whole legend about how there's a Witches' Road that can lead covens to find their hearts' desire to kill people! Witches across the world have been singing the ballad, which YOU MADE UP, for centuries! And hundreds of people have gone searching just to end up as an Agatha Harkness juice box!

AGATHA: It's not my fault that you made it real and it killed people because you have chaos magic like your idiot baby mother!

BILLY: Why do you keep calling Wanda my mom? I told you she's not my mom!

TOMMY: HEY! Can you both shut up? You're both clearly freaking out, and I still don't understand why!

(long pause in the recording)

AGATHA: Wanda imprisoned me in my own mind at the end of the Hex. She turned me into the nosy neighbor I pretended to be to figure her out and steal her powers. It was not a pleasant experience. My memories of the time are distorted and unreliable, and include a lot of Wanda's own memories and experiences. I saw her body. I saw her go on her murderous rampage across the Multiverse. I saw her do her worst Agatha Harkness impression when she was going full Scarlet Witch and it was humiliating. I don't know how to explain what it feels like to be trapped in your own body the way I was and to be watching the nightmares play out while you're snooping on the boring people of Westview, New Jersey.

TOMMY: OK. Billy, what about you?

BILLY: Wanda Maximoff chose a town of strangers over our lives. She didn't look for us here in this reality. Instead, Wanda used the Darkhold and went dream-walking to find a better Tommy and Billy in the Multiverse without even asking Agatha or ANYONE if that was a good idea. And when she failed, she brought down a mountain on her head and maybe died instead of facing what she did. And now everyone is like, oh, you're the son of the Scarlet Witch! Billy Maximoff, the heir to the Scarlet Witch, blah blah blah. And I don't even know her! Agatha has spent more time trying to help the two of us than Wanda ever did.

TOMMY: Well, my therapist would say something like "it sounds like you both have a lot of feelings about this Wanda Maximoff." (pause) Billy is glaring at me and Agatha flipped me off, real mature from the lady who told me she was born in 1675. I mean, seriously, you two are both so big mad right now and freaking out and I do not get why.

BILLY: The Kaplans are going to ground me forever and I'm going to have to like, show them my powers and I don't even know how to explain how I exist. I have to tell my parents that their son died and he's dead and I'm not really him and what happens then? And my boyfriend, he's gonna freak out too, and then what happens? I don't know what happens now!

AGATHA: Neither do I.

BILLY: OK, now I'm actually scared. You always have a plan.

AGATHA: I don't. Not right now. I have theories that have strong evidence behind them but I don't have a plan. I was so busy thinking about other things that I didn't think about your nice, normal parents being a risk.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Experiential cut here.]

[AGENT 1 NOTE: I honestly have to admit I'm interested to see Agatha's take on the Hex. She was the only person there not under Wanda's spell, correct?

AGENT 2 NOTE: Oh, I hadn't thought of it that way, but it's true.]

Three Years Ago. Westview, New Jersey.

Agatha has spent decades being absolutely unquestioned as the most powerful witch on Earth. Ever since getting her hands on the Darkhold, Death herself hasn't been able to bother her. There have been none of the "incidents" that plague her memory. When people even bother to attack her, Agatha takes the ten to twenty seconds it takes to drain them, hide the bodies deep in the earth, and fucks off to the next thing.

She is intensely, almost horrifyingly bored. Any witch left with any sort of power avoids Agatha Harkness. Young, uneasy ones roll over and show their bellies and run and hide if they see her, so to speak. Every so often she can scam a coven into singing with her, but even the Road has become a victim of its own success. Witches know that the Road is a death trap, even if you're desperate enough to talk to Agatha fucking Harkness about it.

Worst of all, the Book of the Damned has been something of a disappointment. Agatha is glad that she doesn't have Death bothering her anymore, and she has learned a great deal from it, but it's drained most of the small, petty pleasures Agatha used to take respite in. 

Nothing hurts. Nothing feels good. She doesn't even get much from finding pretty young things to seduce and destroy. It's all routine. Agatha uses the Darkhold to find different universes to search for one, any one, where Nicky still exists in any significant way, where her beloved hadn't taken him young and told Agatha no, she would not bring him back, but it's as she discovered within months of opening the book.

Nicky, as he was, was unique. There are dozens upon dozens of Agathas, and in all the multiverse, she is the only one who called to Death, the only one whose Nicky lived a sweet, small life with her, and the only one who is hard enough to dream-walk across the dimensions without being corrupted to death.

So when the Hex goes up in a blaze of power so strong that it rolls through Agatha like a wave on a random Tuesday afternoon in an outer borough of New York City, Agatha is off like a shot to Westview, New Jersey.

When she puts her hand on Wanda's barrier, the pleasure of feeling that much power push back against hers makes Agatha throw her head back and shudder.

"Ooh," she coos at the boundary before cutting it open just enough to let her in, "Who made you, sexy thing?"

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Welp, if I had any doubt Agatha was flirting with Wanda through the Hex show, it's all gone.

AGENT 3 NOTE: VFA said something like 'no woman is that straight' when I asked about this when watching the Hex broadcast.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Is anyone else disturbed by the implication that Agatha Harkness held the Book of the Damned for decades and mostly got bored? I've read the notes that the Masters of the Mystic Arts made about what it can do to you. Disappointment and boredom aren't on the list.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: We have definitely seen an increase in the time spent in the podcast. It universally fades back in here, though I also think it's noteworthy more listeners experience the flashbacks as episodes continue.]

TOMMY: So can I explain what I think is going on, just to make sure I have this right?

BILLY: Absolutely, yeah.

TOMMY: OK, so you and I were created about three years ago in Westview, New Jersey, by an Avenger who is also a big-time witch, whose name is Wanda Maximoff. When she created her magic world, she also created a version of this android guy, Vision, who was like, her husband before he got killed by Thanos. And in some combination of magic and like, normal sex stuff, she made us. Our souls were real, but our bodies were, um, made from her magic.

AGATHA: Close enough. Keep going.

TOMMY: Wanda and Agatha got in a big-ass fight because Agatha, unlike everyone else, knew that Wanda was this Scarlet Witch person and also because Agatha tried to drain Wanda like a juice box. And then Wanda had to dissolve the Hex, which means our souls didn't have bodies and the Vision she made disappeared.

BILLY: Still sounds right.

TOMMY: I kind of went nowhere, but Billy's soul found a body. Like, not even on purpose, but his soul kind of just went into the body of this kid, William Kaplan, who died in a car accident right as the Hex dissolved. And Billy woke up this kid, William Kaplan. And William Kaplan's parents, like every normal-ass person, don't know that souls can take over bodies like that, so they thought Billy was just...kind of different.

AGATHA: Souls usually can't take over bodies like that. In fact, most of the time, that leads to some unsettling shit. Zombies, revenants, poltergeists, possessions. Billy's case is probably unique and has to do with the fact that his magic also appears to be chaos magic, like Wanda's. We'll never know for sure. I'd ask Rio, but can you imagine how mad she's going to be when we next meet up?

BILLY: You told Rio that you never wanted to see her face again and became a ghost, something she despises, to spite her.

AGATHA: And to continue on in some form. I didn't just do it for spite. Like, 60/40 spite to guilt, probably.

TOMMY: ANYWAY, you two collided with each other and created a level of bitchy gay so dramatic that it has its own podcast, and you brought me back in a way that is not the same but similar, which I'm not gonna get into because you both gave me shit about it when I said that before this take.

AGATHA: OK, and?

TOMMY: What I'm trying to say is that Wanda and Vision are our soul's parents, the people who made our bodies are like, genetically our parents, but because our souls are in these bodies, the bodies got all our powers and kind of our memories. Oh, can I say we both have powers? Billy has magic and I'm fast, like Wanda's twin brother who's dead, Pietro. And Agatha is in the picture because she's the murder auntie who stepped up once our soul's mom died pulling a mountain down on her head.

BILLY: Did you just say murder auntie?

AGATHA: I am not entirely sure your mom died.

TOMMY: Um, like half the things Auntie Ags says are about how she killed a bitch or planned to, murder seems to be her hobby.

BILLY: Did you just say you're not sure Wanda is dead?

AGATHA: I am less and less sure every day.

[AGENT 3 NOTE: And there is what VFA doesn't want shared, blurted out on a podcast that's already been broadcast to tens of thousands of people.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Do we think Wanda Maximoff is alive?

AGENT 3 NOTE: I don't have any special insight into that.]

1965-ish/2023. Westview, New Jersey.

Ralph Bohner is sobbing as Agatha straddles his lap (not in a sexual way, but in a threatening way), and it's the first time in years that Agatha has felt so alive.

"I don't know what you want me to do!" he says, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I want you to listen to me, Ralph," Agatha says, smiling radiantly as she pushes his chin up with her power. "Aren't you glad you're not one of Wanda's little puppets? You have the ability to think, to speak, to sleep. And all you have to do is whatever I say."

Ralph snuffles loudly, dripping snot. Agatha considers slapping him for his cowardice, but that might leave a bruise and explaining how Agnes' husband Ralph is being beaten up by his own wife would probably challenge Wanda's terrible storytelling skills.

"You're a scary bitch," Ralph says, trying for sotto voce, but only managing a scared, pathetic grunt of a voice.

"Yes, darling, I am," Agatha says, doing her best Agnes. "And you're my lucky little house husband, so what you're going to do is make me some tea, clean this filthy pigsty of a house, and make sure I have dinner waiting for me when I get back from entertaining the star of the show."

"What'll you do if I don't?" Ralph asks. "Everyone knows I live here! It's on the deed!"

"Do they?" Agatha asks, smirking. "Everyone forgot about you the minute I swooped in and elevated this pathetic imitation of a sitcom reality. This is Agnes' house now, honey, you're just my punchline. My Maris. If you disappear, nobody's gonna care. So make me some tea and do what I say."

Eventually, she's going to have to fully mind-control Ralph, but Agatha doesn't want to waste the effort until necessary. She's been so fascinated by Wanda, despite the part where Wanda is a sloppy showrunner and Wanda's pocket reality is such a knock-off that it barely deserves to be called derivative. Lucky for Agatha that she had bummed around in Los Angeles for a while, offering lots of helpful advice as a washed-up old actress to various stars of the era. She had stepped into her unplanned role and immediately stolen focus from anyone else.

Wanda enjoys having a sassy best friend to help her adjust to suburban life, and Agatha is exploiting that to the fullest. Besides, Wanda seems to enjoy having Agatha around, period, and that's rare enough that Agatha is also enjoying herself.

"Sweetheart, let me get you some tea," she says to Wanda in the middle of one of the less-important episodes. "Then you can tell me all about how you're doing, how you're feeling, and why a gal like you decided to settle down in the 'burbs!"

"Well," Wanda says from the kitchen table, frowning as Agatha finds a pair of teacups and puts the kettle on - Agatha's still being cautious about the magic use, even though Wanda keeps forgetting nobody's supposed to know about her magic and uses it occasionally right in front of her, "Isn't that what you're supposed to do at the end of your story? Happily ever after, a white picket fence, the handsome husband, and a family? Somewhere nice to grow old?"

Agatha is glad that Wanda cannot see the face at the wall she's just made because for fuck's sake . This child wants a soft place to land after what she did to Thanos? After turning an entire town into her own personal Dick Van Dyke show? She thinks this is the end of her story? Agatha could shake Wanda for being so damn naive and unambitious and for having no idea who she seems to be.

"Oh, I don't know, honey," Agatha says. "I just read Sex and the Single Girl and while it might be too late for this gal to be liberated, it made some good points. You can't just expect a husband and children to make you whole, Wanda. You have to make sure that you're taking care of you, right, doll?"

Wanda's nose crinkles irritably, and the black-and-white filter seems to have a bit of edge to it, but Agatha turns on the flirty charm to counter Wanda's sudden burst of temper, fluffing her ugly, ugly hair and grinning like an idiot.

"Or maybe those single girls are just jealous," Agatha backpedals, tucking away the knowledge that Wanda really doesn't like the idea that she can't magically fix the echoing void inside of her. "After all, when your husband knows what to do, it's a lot more fun! Maybe I just need to find a Ralph replacement!"

The laugh track echoes and Agatha pours the hot water for the tea, plotting her next move.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Is anyone else finding the juice box thing terrifying? I mean, did anyone get a good look into what Harkness does to people besides Monica Rambeau? I don't think Agatha or the twins are being metaphorical about Agatha draining people.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Oh, no, it's literally the worst. Also, can we just talk about what the hell is going on with Wanda and Agatha? We all should have known better in Westview than to just leave Agatha there.

AGENT 1 NOTE: I wonder what would have happened if Wanda had taken Agatha with her. If anyone could handle the Darkhold, it seems to be Agatha. Maybe things would have turned out better.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Or, Agatha would have encouraged Wanda to take over the world and keep her on as an enforcer. There are many scary possibilities, I think.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This drop into the podcast is expected, though the reaction is what caused various agencies to take the Interview podcast far more seriously, including the incident at Newark after the publication of the episode, which appears to have happened late into the flight.]

TOMMY: So what's your theory?

AGATHA: That Wanda is alive and that she's been keeping tabs on me this whole time. Not necessarily on purpose - your mother's bad at that - but she's got her hooks in me. And when I do things she likes, like protect her baby boys from imminent death, she gives me the occasional power-up, like more control over corporeal matter.

BILLY: Are you KIDDING me?

AGATHA: The whole reason I agreed to this was to test that theory, so no, no I am not. I had no idea that anyone else would even care about a podcast, or why would I break cover so thoroughly? I have enemies . I was putting it out there as bait for Wanda and I think it worked.

TOMMY: So is Wanda mad at you or not?

AGATHA: That's a dumb question.

BILLY: Are you mad at Wanda?

AGATHA: That's a dumber question.

TOMMY: I don't think either question is dumb.

BILLY: Wait, was that your plan? Collect me and Tommy like Pokemon and try to see what you can get out of Wanda for our safe return?

AGATHA: No! I mean, I'm not going to say no to any rewards I get from the Scarlet Witch. HOWEVER, just like your questions about being mad, it's more complicated than that. Wanda and I in general are complicated.

TOMMY: What does that even mean?

AGATHA: It means I was a mother, too. And I wanted my son to live and I failed him. It means that Wanda and I were the only two grown-ups and the only two real people in Westview and that left a mark on both of us. I understand her in a way I don't think those fuckwits on the Avengers ever could.

BILLY: And that means?

AGATHA: I wasn't going to let you two idiots fall into the wrong hands. I owed her and myself that.

TOMMY: Sus.

BILLY: That's the most suspicious thing I've ever heard.

AGATHA: I am actually sorry about trying to drain your mom like a juice box.

TOMMY: I thought you enjoyed doing that in general.

AGATHA: I do! But it was a mistake in this particular case, children of the Scarlet Witch. You should be happy. I admitted I made a mistake and I'm sorry for doing something evil.

BILLY: I have never once heard you apologize. Not even to Jen and you bound her for a century for money.

AGATHA: I didn't know it was her, I was actually sort of sorry, but also I would never ever apologize to Jen because she would get commemorative t-shirts of the moment and no, absolutely not.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: They're on sale already. Jennifer Kale 100% did an Insta Live with the audio, it was amazing.]

TOMMY: Can you just say you care about Wanda and us and it's got you fucked up?

AGATHA: What? No. That's...

BILLY: Ohhh, is that it?

TOMMY: Dude. Have you not noticed the tells? You work cons with Auntie Ags and you don't know her tells yet? Any time Auntie goes cryptic or starts the flow of half-truth bullshit, she's deflecting. She's the master of telling the truth and pretending she's not so you think there's something you're not seeing, but this isn't that complicated. Is it?

AGATHA: My life is ruined. You let one kid see any part of you and suddenly this happens.

TOMMY: Sorry not sorry.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is effectively the end of the podcast episode. Billy does a lead-out after a brief conversation, but he was clearly trying to get an episode out before the end of the flight. We do get one more experiential out of the episode, though. Also we have something resembling surveillance footage between the Maximoff twins, Harkness, and the Kaplan parents.]

2010s / Three Years Ago. Westview, New Jersey.

The Scarlet Witch is sitting in Westview, New Jersey, having a slow nervous breakdown while Agatha is watching the boys for her.

The Scarlet Witch, who is a real person now, is something like Agatha's best friend. Only thing resembling a friend in decades.

Agatha's head is swirling. Of all the things to find after decades of holding the Darkhold, the Scarlet Witch being real was not on her list. It's a cosmic joke. Why would a sad woman who lost everything be the Scarlet Witch? Why does Wanda Maximoff, of all the people, hold that level of power? Agatha could do amazing things with chaos magic. (She ignores that her heart has been beating Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky ever since she watched Wanda create those boys and realized they had real souls. It can't be that easy, can it?)

She feels alive again, after so many decades of being hard and strange and lost against the Book of the Damned, knowing good and damn well it had been a trap for her in particular. There's a reason Agatha Harkness has only been minimally corrupted, besides her dark and evil heart, which Agatha will never acknowledge if she has any say about it, which she does. Possibilities are everywhere, where before there was nothing.

The obvious solution is to take Wanda's power, undo this ridiculous trash reality, and let the chaos magic forge her into the Scarlet Witch. Between Agatha's natural abilities, her knowledge, and chaos magic, no being in the universe would be able to stand against her. Even her beloved would be powerless to say no.

( Nicky, Nicky, Nicky has been pounding through Agatha's veins for days, fueling her performance. She will have her son, she will have her power, and she will look at her love's face for the first time in decades and not want to drive a knife into her immortal, eternal throat with longing, hate, and regret. Or if she does, it will be with triumph rather than misery.)

But it could be interesting if she simply decided to corrupt Wanda herself. Wanda is so alone, and this pocket reality will break soon. Agatha could teach Wanda how to be more than a sad, broken child who wants a simple happy ending. Wanda would understand about Nicky. Maybe Agatha could even figure out how to draw Wanda's boys back - they're doomed, the way the Wanda set up this spell. But surely there has to be a way if Wanda and Agatha use chaos magic and all Agatha knows about death and spirits to break all of the rules that Agatha's lost love puts on the natural order of things.

There is the unfortunate thing Wanda said about not being able to bring back the dead, but Agatha is fairly certain she could find the loopholes around that with all the knowledge she has. Agatha knows how much it hurts to lose a child. She could, if she wished, use that against Wanda to bring her down the path, corrupt that pretty little thing so thoroughly that Wanda would just listen to Agatha and do exactly what Agatha wants. They'd both win in the end.

(Agatha thinks Wanda would be a delight to corrupt. There's a streak of rage and nihilism in the little redhead that reminds Agatha of herself and Agatha knows exactly how to push to bring it out and use it to her benefit. The sex would be outstanding, as would the power struggles between them.)

The witch child - Billy - looks pensive as he pets Agatha's rabbit. "Penny for your thoughts," Agatha says, thinking about when exactly she should knock the boys out and draw Wanda into her lair to have a little chat, or drain her, or exactly what, Agatha is still debating.

"I like it here," Billy says suddenly, looking up at Agatha and Agatha sees Nicky's face instead of the little witchling and her heart seizes.

"Is that because Señor Scratchy is such a good listener?" Agatha asks, skritching her familiar fondly.

"No," Billy says. "It's because it's quiet here. You're quiet, Agnes - on the inside."

He looks up at her fondly and Agatha's heart aches. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky , it beats and all of Agatha's half-baked plans of waiting, of cultivating Wanda, of caring about these boys as anything more than pawns are washed out of her head. She can't wait anymore for her own boy. These are not her boys. Wanda is not her friend. This is all an illusion.

After a bit more conversation, Agatha puts a hand on each boy's face and smiles her Agnes smile.

"You both look a bit tired," she says, humming the ballad the way she and Nicky used to sing it, before it became her siren song against all her witch kin. "I think you should rest, don't you, boys?"

They look at her, confused - after all, ten year old boys aren't tired in the middle of the afternoon, and it's just after lunch on a random day - and Agatha begins to sing to them as she slowly sinks them down into a soft, dreamless sleep.

"Walk, walk, walk the road, I walk the windy road," Agatha sings, gently transporting the boys to her basement. "Wherever it may bend...I'll see you at the end."

Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky . Agatha will become the Scarlet Witch, and she will get her son back. Everything else is a distraction.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, I GOT MY FIRST EXPERIENTIAL.

AGENT 1 NOTE: They're a trip, aren't they?

AGENT 2 NOTE: I really want to meet Billy Maximoff and figure out how he did this. Or Agatha, or whoever is making this happen.

AGENT 1 NOTE: Well, considering our latest set of revelations, it seems like Wanda is also in the picture. God, what if it's somehow all three of them.

AGENT 3 NOTE: VFA saw that note. She says to consider that as the least likely but most important possibility.]

Now-ish. Private Airfield Next to Newark International Airport.

Jeff and Rebecca Kaplan are sitting inside the private air terminal quietly when Billy, Tommy, and Agatha emerge from the private jet. Billy stares at his parents, face still as stone. Tommy looks between Billy, Agatha, and the Kaplans, fidgeting hard.

"Shh," Agatha whispers to Tommy. "This is your brother's thing. You're gonna be okay. I'm not letting you go anywhere you don't want to go."

She touches his shoulder. It doesn't quite work - she's definitely not fully corporeal at the moment - but Tommy feels the phantom of a touch and smiles at Agatha gratefully.

Billy squares his shoulders and walks up to the Kaplans. "Mom? Dad?" he asks. Jeff Kaplan looks up, eyes full. "Hi, Dad."

Rebecca Kaplan's face is ashen. She shakes her head, mouth open, but doesn't say anything at first.

"I know," Billy says. "It's not...it's not fair."

"Billy," Agatha says gently. "Try to stop reading their minds. They deserve privacy."

The Kaplans turn their heads to look at Agatha for the first time. Tommy suddenly realizes they can't exactly see her, or maybe she's just less solid for them. Tommy has never had a problem with it, but maybe that's the effect of being a witch's kid. Agatha is there, sometimes a little more solidly, sometimes less, but he's aware of her presence when she's around.

"I don't know what to do here," Rebecca says, taking in her son, the lanky teenage boy next to him, and the half-materialized woman standing next to them. "I want this to be a sick joke, but you are all very real, aren't you?"

"Yes, we unfortunately are," Agatha says, looking at Rebecca with something akin to compassion.

Billy and Tommy give Agatha a strange look. Jeff Kaplan is weeping, wiping away tears discreetly when he can't stop himself. Rebecca's eyes are bright but she isn't crying. Her gaze is focused on Agatha, who is in her most standard form, gray hair and long, old-timey dress.

"We should probably get out of here if we can," Rebecca says, looking around at the airfield employees and clearly considering the newsworthy nature of what might be happening.

"Agreed," Agatha says.

They find themselves in the Kaplan family crossover SUV, Agatha maintaining her most dignified posture and Billy squirming and trying to find words. Tommy is trying not to say anything and look out the window. He doesn't remember ever being in New Jersey before, even if his soul was created here, and it's so different from California, there's a lot to look at, even on the Turnpike.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Billy finally says. "I don't know what to do or say and I'm so sorry."

Rebecca holds up a hand. "William, I can't...please," she says, something raw in her throat.

"When I lost my son," Agatha says suddenly, "The idea of someone saying they were sorry made me want to stab people. Sorry is a sick joke, isn't it?"

"So you were a mother. I didn't understand half of what people said about you in that witch Wikipedia site I went to after talking to the Khans," Rebecca says, "But they say you traded your son for an evil book?"

"I made that up," Agatha says, her voice quavering slightly. "I have a nasty reputation to maintain and it hurts too much to talk about Nicky. It's better that people think I'm the type of person who'd trade her child for the Book of the Damned rather than what actually happened."

"What did happen?" Rebecca asks.

"He was supposed to be stillborn," Agatha says, eyes closed. "I argued with, I suppose nowadays you'd say my wife, for his life. She gave me time. My Nicky. Our Nicky, I suppose. He looked so much like her. I thought I made him alone, you know, but then he'd smile at me, just like she would and I knew that we'd made him together. I...I only got six years with him. He was always sickly and I was not exactly wealthy, even by the standards of the 1750s. We were living rough most of the time. My best guess is his lungs never developed properly and one day he just didn't wake up."

Billy is staring at Agatha in utter horror. Nicky was Rio's, too? he asks without meaning to.

Don't say anything. Do not say a word , Agatha snarls into Billy's head. It's true, and maybe I'll talk more about it later but if you say anything now... and her mental voice trails off.

Jeff sniffles loudly, wiping at his nose with a handkerchief and Rebecca's breath shudders in her throat. "What happened, after?" Jeff asks. "What did you do?"

"I set the world on fire," Agatha says, and the part of Billy that isn't trying to curl into a ball mentally thinks that's a very interesting way to describe centuries of killing every witch she could scam onto the so-called Witches' Road, but he also can see the Kaplans are reacting to her in a way they don't seem to be able to react to Billy. "Wanda Maximoff, of all people, described the grief as an endless wave of nothingness, which is a good way to describe it for some. For me, grief is a hot knife through the heart. The only way to make it stop hurting was to use it against others. I don't recommend it."

"I'm not especially interested in killing people," Rebecca says tightly.

"Not the only way to set your world on fire, but I take your point," Agatha replies. "I apologize for forgetting you and your husband as part of my plans. I have a tendency to focus on my goal and my goal was to get one particular person's attention with Billy's podcast."

"It wasn't to find his brother?" Jeff asks. "I mean, Tommy. I'm sorry, Tommy."

Agatha smiles slightly. "Oh, that was a fait accompli," she says. "Billy is an extremely powerful witch and I'm a criminal mastermind. I wasn't worried about finding Tommy here. I knew we'd find Tommy. I'm hunting bigger game. Um, I mean..."

Tommy laughs, of all people. "Man, you really do have a hard time not sounding like a serial killer, don't you?" he asks.

"I usually don't have to justify my plans to anyone but me," Agatha says.

"Um, also?" Tommy asks, looking behind the Kaplans' car. "Are those lights and sirens?"

Agatha, who isn't bound by normal physics, turns around to stare at the caravan of law enforcement that is now following them. "Motherfu--"

[VFA NOTE: Cut it here. I can't control the information that Maximoff may be alive, but we're not sharing this with other agencies until we have to.]

Chapter Text

Episode 4 Reactions

(from the subreddit r/HotAvengersGoss, a post titled "Unpopular Opinion: The Witch-Killer Podcast Is Fake")

Main Post, from u/ClintsQuiverArrow

I know that everything in Avenger-world is about Agatha Harkness now because apparently you can't just have normal villains like Ultron or Thanos, you have to have girlboss lesbian villains because of woke feminism. But it's so clearly made up. I'm supposed to believe there's a 350 year old witch who's just been running around killing thousands of people since colonial times with these succubus powers and the Avengers didn't know about it? And she was just in that Westview thing and they didn't put her in the Raft? That's just ridiculous.

Top Reply, from u/MaximovaTruther

I think it could be true. Ever since the Battle of Earth, the Avengers seem to miss shit, and anything related to my girl Wanda especially. I mean, they keep saying Westview was a training exercise and everyone knows that's bullshit. Nobody worth a shit's in charge, so ignoring an ancient powerful witch Wanda put under a spell sounds par for the course in this woke era. I'm not saying it's true, but I'm not saying it's obvious bullshit.

Reply to u/MaximovaTruther from u/Bohnerrific69

AGATHA HARKNESS IS REAL AF AND SO IS THE KID, BILLY. I MET THEM BOTH. SHE STOLE MY HOUSE. DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU WANT TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE.

Reply from u/ClintsQuiverArrow

#thingsthattotallyhappened

Reply to u/ClintsQuiverArrow and u/Bohnerrific69 from u/MaximovaTruther

like i said, dude, I don't know what's true or not, but I saw that video from California of that old lady lowkey soloing that guy who really did look like Karl Mordo. there's enough out there I'm not willing to say if it's real or not.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is only one of thousands of social media posts about Interview with the Witch-Killer. After the 'plane episode', as it is commonly referred to online, this only escalated. Orders went out from the CIA re: the Maximoff-Harkness files specifically related to the Special Ops team which technically are above this record's security level. Unfortunately, several commenters on this file have higher-level access and are included, making it difficult to make accurate commentary without breaching security to others.]

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode Five Transcript with Notes from Editor and Agents assigned to MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS INCIDENTS.

TOMMY: Billy says I have to do the intro now because I gave him too much shit, so here we go. Interview with the Witch-Killer is a non-fiction podcast about my family and our quest to reunite us, or to at least hear some cool stories about Agatha Harkness, the most infamous witch in the world.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: Are we even going to talk about how VFA sent Yelena after them?

AGENT 1 NOTE: Are we supposed to mention our regular identities?

AGENT 2 NOTE: No, but clearly VFA sent Yelena and the CIA after them after that episode where Agatha and the twins just put it out there they're Maximoffs and that Agatha doesn't even think Wanda is dead and I got my first experiential and holy shit those are so creepy and weird.

AGENT 1 NOTE: Jennifer Kale says in her opinion Billy has to be the magic behind them, but that they're clearly Agatha's memories and feelings.

AGENT 2 NOTE: You're talking to Jennifer Kale?

AGENT 1 NOTE: Yeah, we reached out after she started doing Insta Live reviews of the pod.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Uh, share with the group next time. Can you get me one of the t-shirts?]

(INTRO MUSIC: Halsey - "The Tradition")

BILLY: Everyone is okay, so you can all stop putting our personal information on social. We're in a safe place now. The Kaplans are home, they're...not so okay, but they're not in custody or hurt or anything. We are not home, but that's in part because we're sort of in hiding.

TOMMY: Bro, that's an understatement. The CIA is on our ass, along with, we think, like SHIELD and SWORD and who knows who else. Probably the FBI? Interpol?

AGATHA: I found out that this podcast gives listeners flashbacks of the most private moments of my life. I blame the Maximoff family for that.

TOMMY: Like you're not the single most dramatic part of the Maximoff family.

AGATHA: Pardonnez-moi, s'il vous plaît? When did I become a Maximoff?

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Both boys make derisive noises.]

BILLY: Can we be past this whole 'I barely know you boys, you're just my pawns in a mysterious game' thing? It's annoying.

AGATHA: Wanda Maximoff still exists and still pulled a mountain down on her head, so I'm definitely not the most dramatic one.

TOMMY: Anyway, so can we talk about how we got out of being very much in jail? I thought this week's guest was part of that, too.

BILLY: We'll get to that after the break.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: There's an uptick in experientials in this episode. For example, this one overtakes the break and ad.]

Nowish. New Jersey Turnpike, Near Newark International Airport.

As Rebecca Kaplan pulls the Subaru to the shoulder of the Turnpike, there are three New Jersey State Trooper vehicles behind them along with an unmarked black sedan. Everyone keeps looking over their shoulder, except for Agatha, who is exploiting her ghost form and has her head halfway out the window. 

One of the troopers gets out of the car, sees Agatha's spectral head, and immediately gets back into the car.

"I guess we're about to test whether or not you can arrest a ghost," Billy says as Agatha pulls herself back into the backseat.

"Detain," Agatha corrects him primly. "I don't even have a government identity, so at best they can detain me for forty-eight hours and that's only if they have facilities that can handle magic users. That's the same for you, by the way. And Tommy's too fast to catch, so as long as you have the ability to get in touch with him, it shouldn't be too hard to meet up if we need to."

"Are you telling the boys to resist arrest?" Rebecca Kaplan asks nervously. "Or evade it or whatever the charge would be?"

"Depends on who's arresting us, yes," Agatha says, one of her hands twitching and making unconscious little patterns. "If one of the Fed agencies with weapon names is doing the arresting, we need to disappear. I'm not risking a trip to the Raft."

Jeff Kaplan makes a strangled noise. "The Raft?" he asks. "You think they'd take you and the boys to the Raft?"

"I hope not," Agatha says. Billy, you need to make sure the Kaplans cannot be used against us. These people don't deserve to be pawns.

Are you asking me to change their memories? Billy asks. Agatha glowers at him. But...I can't .

There's a knock on the back window. A blonde woman in a black catsuit looks at the boys and Agatha and makes a gesture indicating they should roll down the window. Agatha regards her solemnly and then nods before looking over at Billy.

You know that's the right answer for now. I'm not telling you to make it forever, but they are not safe right now and the more they know, the more danger they're in.

"Oh my god, what do we do?" Billy asks. Agatha, please don't make me do this .

"Roll down the window," Agatha says calmly. "Let me handle this." If you want them in government custody, be my guest and do the "right" thing. But the best way to keep them safe is for them to have nothing the CIA or SWORD or SHIELD can use. Your choice.

"Can she even see you?" Jeff says suddenly. "I can only see and hear you sometimes."

"We'll find out, won't we?" Agatha asks, chin up and eyes fixed on the blonde, who appears to be looking at her. Figure it out, Billy. I'll buy you as much time and freedom as we can, but this isn't just about you.

"Good evening, officer," Agatha says in her most facetious voice as the back window rolls down. "It seems a little strange that you aren't speaking to the driver tonight. Are we being detained?"

"Agatha Harkness, you are very funny for a dead woman," the woman says with a heavy Russian accent, leaning against the car door and looking in the car. "Hi, Billy and Tommy. I hear you are Wanda Maximova's twins. Nice to meet you."

"Are we being detained?" Agatha repeats. "I would like your name and badge number if that is the case, please. I would also like you to read me my rights if we are being arrested as well as my phone call. The twins will also need separate phone calls and their charges listed in this case as well."

The blonde rolls her eyes.

"Valentina said you would be like this," the woman says with a sigh. "She says not to be such a pain in the dick and that nobody will hurt the twins or put you on the Raft. She also says the nice people can go home and no one will bother them if the boys come with me."

Agatha actually groans, putting her insubstantial hand over her face. Fuck, I knew it. Billy, I won't tell you what to do, but this is a CIA special ops deal. I wouldn't leave your parents open to a CIA interrogation but...

STOP IT! Billy yells. You're right, but you don't have to rub it in!

Agatha and Billy lock eyes with each other and Agatha breaks first. She turns her face away and then reaches out and manages to put a hand on Billy, an odd regret on her face. Billy looks at her, eyes welling up with tears. Tommy looks at both of them, clearly aware they've been communicating, but with the trust he has for them both open on his face.

"Oh, so it's Valentina?" Agatha asks the blonde woman. "Fine, I'll bend a little. Boys, out of the car."

"But..." Rebecca says, looking between the three uneasily. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do? We can call a lawyer. The boys at least have rights and you could go on the run and..."

Agatha bites her insubstantial lips and Billy takes a deep breath. Tommy unlocks the car door, pulling at the handle as he and Agatha leave the vehicle. Tommy shows his hands, loudly yelling "nothing in my hands, dude!" as Agatha strides over to the blonde woman and starts speaking to her quietly. The blonde woman pulls herself taller and pulls out a phone.

Billy looks at the Kaplans, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Billy," Jeff says. "We love you. Even if you're not...we love you, okay?"

"I know," Billy says, his voice high and hoarse. "I love you, too. And I promise, once this all gets fixed..."

Rebecca Kaplan wipes tears from her cheeks, shaking her head. "Don't make promises, please," she says. "Whatever you have to do, just. Just do it."

"I love you so much," Billy says, putting his hands on each parent's shoulder. "I do."

When he gets out of the car, Billy's eyes are tearless and hard. He glowers at Agatha, who nods at him.

"I made a deal," she says quietly. "Nobody will bother them. They can just go home, Billy."

Agatha doesn't try to touch him or apologize. The blonde shifts uncomfortably as the two witches regard each other levelly, before walking over to the state trooper cars. Tommy rushes up to his brother and puts his arm around his shoulder gingerly.

"Hey," he says. "It's not okay, I know. But I'm here for you. We're both here."

"I don't want to talk about it," Billy says, looking at Agatha. "You told me to get used to this feeling. And once again, you're right. I bet you're delighted."

"Yeah, can't you just see the joy on my face," Agatha says flatly, turning to the blonde woman. "Come on, let's get this over with."

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Well, that's heartbreaking. Jesus Christ, Yelena, how did you do it?

AGENT 3 NOTE: I did not notice all the other things going on when I was actually there. One thing about being near Agatha Harkness, she draws all the attention to herself and keeps it there. She is very good actress.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Which you should have known from the Hex.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Speaking of the Hex, how come you didn't tell SWORD or the FBI to come pick up the scary witch lady? You were there!

AGENT 1 NOTE: Yeah, Darcy, didn't you see the witch fight?

AGENT 2 NOTE: I was too busy dealing with Heyward and the SWORD thing. And then I forgot. Which, now that I think about it, is kind of weird.

AGENT 3 NOTE: It's like I said. Very good actress. You don't see the trick til it's too late.]

(MUSICAL FADE-IN: Siouxsie and the Banshees, "Cities in Dust - Extended Version")

BILLY: Do you think your friend Valentina will keep to the deal?

AGATHA: Sort of. I'm sure an agent has already come and gone, found out that you wiped their memories, and now she'll keep to the deal. Especially because we're still broadcasting and I doubt Val's people are the only ones keeping tabs on us.

BILLY: Is that why you said we should keep doing this? It's not very stealthy.

AGATHA: I have my reasons, which I don't want to broadcast to the entire world and several types of Fed.

TOMMY: OK, that's smart. I was going to be like, you're being vague again, but that makes sense.

BILLY: Does it keep bothering you? When you do things like this, these terrible things that you have to do. Do you ever reach a point where you can't feel it anymore?

AGATHA: Yes. No. Depends on what "it" is.

BILLY: Like, what I did to my parents. To the Kaplans, I guess.

AGATHA: No. Those are the ones that stay with you. The ones that remind you to always, always stay a step ahead in case you have to make a choice like that. Because it's too easy to make mistakes when your heart is screaming one thing and your head knows you can't do that or it'll be worse in the end.

BILLY: How do you live with it?

AGATHA: In the end, you either end up me or you end up Wanda. Hard or dead.

TOMMY: Maybe there's a secret third thing?

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Long pause, followed by laughter from Agatha]

BILLY: Maybe we should do a quick break and then bring in our guest? She's why we're talking about this in an undisclosed location and not in government custody, after all.

Nowish. New Jersey Turnpike near Newark International Airport.

The trooper takes the twins' bags out of the Kaplans' trunk, and then one of the three cars escorts them away while Billy stands there, staring after them. His hands are clasped at his sides, jaw clenched. Tommy holds on to him. Agatha's attention is focused on the blonde, but when she thinks the boys aren't looking, she looks uncomfortably close to putting a hand on both of them, or maybe even a hug.

The blonde woman walks to her car for a moment, then returns and shakes her head. "You three have gotten everyone very riled up lately," she says, laughing slightly. "Valentina is furious with you, Agatha Harkness. She said you were a liar, a thief, and also a succubus. It made me like you."

Tommy looks up from comforting Billy and raises an eyebrow at Agatha. "So who's this Valentina you keep talking about?" he asks.

"Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. Head of the CIA," Agatha says, shifting slightly. "And she's only mad at me because we had a one night stand about ten years ago, and I used it to steal a quarter billion in magical artifacts off the government. But no matter what Val says, I didn't have to use ANY magic to get her in bed. It was just after, when I was getting her passwords, that I used a little mind control. I also may have left her tied up in the Newseum after."

[AGENT 1 NOTE: OH. Is that what happened.

AGENT 3 NOTE: I told you, it made me like Agatha Harkness. It was very wrong, of course.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Of course. That is humiliating.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Really, just very wrong.

VFA NOTE: Laugh it up, Yelena. I'm sure YOUR encounter with Agatha Harkness ended so much better.]

Billy, Tommy, and the Russian woman all goggle at Agatha with slightly open mouths. 

"Why do you have so many enemies , Agatha?" Billy says, hands on his hips. "Is it because you left the head of the CIA tied up in the Newseum? Is it because you bound Jen for money? What about the billions in artifacts you've stolen and stashed? I can't imagine what makes people hate you."

Agatha snorts. "Val's just mad because she was into being tied up until she figured out it was a trap," she replies breezily. "And I wish I had my bewitched basement back. We could use the shit I've kept over the years, but I bet Wanda hid them somewhere if she didn't just erase the place like an idiot."

"This is everything I hoped it would be when Valentina sent me after you," the woman says, grinning. "Speaking of women you seduced, Agatha Harkness, my mother also says hi."

Agatha's eyes go wide with what appears to be nerves. "And who exactly is your mother?" she asks while Billy rubs his face with resignation and maybe amusement.

"Melina Vostokoff," the Russian woman says with a smirk. Agatha's eyes go distant with a pleasant memory. "Oh, come on! That was a 'your mom' joke, not a real thing!"

"Have you seen your mother, Yelena Belova?" Agatha says, folding her arms. "We were in Thailand, I was fencing some extremely interesting items after a successful heist in South Asia, her mission brushed against mine, and we were both very attractive. One thing led to another."

Yelena presses her lips together and shakes her head, but then she shrugs and gazes over the twins with sympathy. "Now I understand why you call her your murder auntie and all the other names," she says. "You are Wanda Maximova's sons, yes? Did this one also fuck your mom? Maybe during the TV show? I know they flirt, flirt, flirt the whole time."

Billy throws a suspicious glare at Agatha. "I thought nobody had a copy of the show," he says, folding his arms.

"Valentina has many things that aren't supposed to exist," Yelena says. "Maybe she'll show you if you ask. But I saw it, they were best of friends, very cute, very sassy. I would have felt very betrayed if I was Wanda and my funny best friend was actually this wicked witch."

"Nothing actually happened," Agatha says, wrinkling her nose at Yelena. "And of course we were flirting. It's like when you're at a restaurant and you let your friend have a bite of your meal even when you like what you're eating. I can't help it if we both looked good."

"Aw, come on, stop," Tommy says. "You're so thirsty, it's gross."

Agatha cackles and then looks at Yelena regretfully. "There's no way we're coming with you, you understand that?" she asks. "As much as I think Val might be on the level here and I have no quarrel with you, I'm not letting the twins anywhere near federal custody."

Yelena sighs. "We were doing so well, Agatha Harkness," she says. "I am under strict orders to bring you and the boys in, together. You have been sharing secrets that are of international and maybe galactic importance? You cannot just run around America telling all these things to regular people to make Wanda Maximova appear."

"Valentina wants to know how I picked up the boys and why I think Wanda's alive," Agatha says. "Let's not make this more complicated than it is. Just say Billy or I gave you the whammy and you let us go. Whatever you need to say, we part friends, and you have a good cover for your obviously beloved boss."

Yelena shakes her head. "That's not how this gets to go," she says. "Valentina is very, very angry. Angry enough that she gave me the tools to handle magical suspects, Agatha Harkness. She does not want to send you to the Raft or harm the boys. That doesn't mean she won't."

"And how are you going to stop us?" Billy asks. Agatha groans. "What? You said it yourself. It's hard to hold people like us."

"I have tools to stop you," Yelena says, her lips twisted in a mocking salute. "You think nobody has ever considered weapons that are witch-proof after the things Wanda Maximova did?"

Billy tilts his head. "Never had to think about weapons before," he says. "Are you really going to use weapons against a pair of fifteen year old boys and a ghost?"

Yelena cracks her neck and pulls something out of her catsuit pocket. "I don't want to, but if I have to? I will," she says.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: So I heard this episode is a weird set of experientials. All feels more like a single sequence broken up and it fades in and out strangely.

AGENT 3 NOTE: I don't know. Why don't you ask Jennifer Kale?

AGENT 2 NOTE: I know, right? How are we being so bad at inter-agency communication and hiding our knowledge?]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: As mentioned in the running agency commentary, most of the experientials in the episode are the continuance of the confrontation between Belova, Harkness, and the Maximoff twins. As also previously mentioned, they seem more controlled, probably as a consequence of the revelation to Harkness and B. Maximoff that they exist.]

(TRANSITION MUSIC: The Mission, "Garden of Delight")

BILLY: Today, we're talking with Kate. Um, is just Kate okay?

KATE: Yeah, that's okay.

AGATHA: Thanks for breaking us out.

TOMMY: I did NOT want to go to superhero jail in the middle of the ocean.

KATE: I know you guys are paranoid about names. But there is a lot of interest among some people in talking. Um. My guy, he says he'd be interested in talking, but he said that he knows Agatha is likely to disappear you two for a century if he tried reaching out.

AGATHA: I might do it just to spite people, even.

KATE: From what I know, no one wants to arrest you, despite the criming. 

AGATHA: What criming? I'm innocent until proven guilty in front of a jury of my peers, and I'm pretty sure a lawyer could get the question of who a peer is to a ghost witch tied up for a lifetime, as well as jurisdiction, as well as whether or not you can prosecute me given I'm technically a stateless individual and no longer a legal individual.

TOMMY: You totally spent years planning your legal strategy even before you died.

AGATHA: Obviously. Always know your rights and never concede that unjust or unenforceable laws apply to you until you've exhausted your appeals, kids. That's what Captain America should have done when the Sokovian Accords were proposed. I would have found an army of lawyers before I tried punching Tony Stark. I would have owned Stark Industries if he'd ever tried to apply the laws to yours truly and I'm not a sympathetic character. (pause) Oh, I need to get us all a lawyer.

KATE: You make my mom look mellow and she's in prison for various crimes now.

AGATHA: You say that like I also haven't met your mom.

BILLY: Agatha, no. Please no. Not after the head of the CIA and Yelena's mom.

AGATHA: Wasn't interested. She was a client of mine.

TOMMY: You have to ignore Auntie Ags. She's gonna wind you up to entertain herself.

KATE: Yeah, I got that from all those weird flashback things about Agatha that happen in the podcast sometimes.

BILLY: The what?

KATE: The flashbacks! Sometimes when you're talking during the podcast, it fades out and crazy stuff happens. Like, oh my god, I got that one in Salem with Agatha's mother and I was genuinely so freaked out, I could not have handled that.

AGATHA: What one in Salem?

KATE: Um. With that girl, Margery. When your mother hit you and threw you in the root cellar before trying to execute you. A lot of people saw that. I just...I was really sorry.

AGATHA: Excuse me, I have no idea what you're talking about, can we have a short break?

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Generic Bombas/BetterHelp/whatever ad played here. No transition music.]

BILLY: I don't KNOW how I did it! I don't even know if I did it!

AGATHA: Sure feels like a Maximoff pocket reality to ME, Billy!

KATE: They just yell at each other and ignore us non-witches, don't they?

TOMMY: Bruh, it's cool, they're just freaked out again.

KATE: Explain how this is cool.

TOMMY: OK. Auntie Ags and Billy are control freaks. That's usually good, though, because they're criminal masterminds when they're in sync. They assembled an entire coven in less than a day back in Westview like, an hour after meeting each other. I watched them scam an entire room of social workers and such into believing Agatha is Wanda's big sister and my real legal guardian. Also, they brought me back to life together. So when they don't have a plan, they freak out and yell until they have one.

KATE: That's a dramatic process, but sure.

(overlapping in the background)

BILLY: How would I even get in your head, Agatha? I get a migraine trying to read your thoughts.

AGATHA: I don't know, Captain Chaos Magic, you and your...Wanda love to fuck with me, that's why!

BILLY: I can't just beam out your most personal memories like Scotty, because you don't have a physical mind anymore, so THAT doesn't make sense.

AGATHA: Do you EVER know what you're doing when you're using that part of your chaos magic? So far, no! Also, do we even know what limits chaos magic has?

(return to Kate and Tommy in sound)

KATE: Oh, I get it now.

TOMMY: It's also a competition to see who can make the cattiest comment.

KATE: It's almost cute.

TOMMY: Yeah, but us non-magical normies are always in danger of being in the crossfire.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: How did Tommy end up with all the emotional intelligence in the family? Isn't he like, ten?

AGENT 1 NOTE: I spoke to Jennifer Kale about this. She says that Agatha and Billy are strongly bonded to each other, "and thanks to that, have the same hangups about showing affection in case it's used against them." And she confirmed that they did scam together a coven within six hours of meeting each other. That's even before Agatha knew Billy was the son of the Scarlet Witch, though as Jen says, "Agatha probably took one look at the kid and knew. Somehow that bitch knows everything and says nothing."

AGENT 3 NOTE: Wait. That's what happened on the Turnpike. Somehow, she knew Kate Bishop was on the way and got me to threaten her anyway. She scammed me! She got me all riled up because she fucked my mother and then I told her I had magic-resistant weapons and...that bitch! She says, "oh, I don't have any quarrel with you, Yelena Belova," she gave me a memory of what happened with Valentina to prove it was her instead of any mind-wiping, and I just told her about all sorts of powerful magic-resistant weapons that she stole with those boys because I didn't even think the teenage boys were a threat!

AGENT 2 NOTE: Oh, now I'm uncomfortable. What if. Hear me out. Wanda used that tactic in Westview when she hid Agatha. That's why nobody paid attention to the scary witch who was suddenly the funny best friend again. Just in case Wanda needed her.

VFA NOTE: I do not hate to say I told you so.]

Last Thursday. Nowish. New Jersey Turnpike near Newark International Airport.

Agatha is standing between the twins and Yelena, back in a battle stance. "You know that if I'm right about her, a certain witch will let me use my powers so her babies don't have to do any killing, right?" she asks, twirling her hand with an air of theatrical menace.

"Most of these tools and weapons are meant to slow down or stop Wanda, so I'm not so worried about this, Agatha Harkness," Yelena replies. "You should be more worried about whether these weapons accidentally exorcise you, I think."

"Dude, that's bullshit," Tommy says. "We haven't done anything. Well, nothing against America. All we did was talk about our soul's mom and maybe like, did some fraud for a good cause. Nobody's dead! Not even that Mordo guy and he was a straight up dick!"

Yelena gestures at them with an obvious frustration. "Look, I know! I know! But Valentina wants to talk. She says that's all. Nobody has to do any killing, I don't want any killing, I'm just the messenger."

She puts her hand on the outside of the car. "So what do you say? Can we just take a quick ride downtown and not be weird?" Yelena asks.

There's suddenly a weird thwap noise and suddenly Yelena's hand is trapped against the outside of the car with a reddish, sticky goo. She stares at it and tries to pull forward, but apparently can't even wiggle her fingers where they're trapped.

"What is this bullshit?" Yelena asks, looking at the goo. She puts her hand on her wrist and starts to pull. When that doesn't work, she slaps her other hand on the car before clenching her hand into a fist and pounding on the front door.

Another thwap . And suddenly Yelena Belova is stuck leaning on her black sedan, unable to get to any of her weapons.

Tommy cracks up, looking at Yelena stuck against the car like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. Billy gives him a dirty look, but any message is undermined by Agatha walking up to the car before getting right in Yelena's face.

"Tell Valentina to back off, Yelena," Agatha says with a menacing leer. "I don't have time for her right now. If she asks nicely, I can come visit later."

Agatha phases into the car, and the rear door shoots off at a truly unnecessary speed, weapons falling to the pavement. The twins immediately speed to the car, Tommy goggling at the awe-inspiring cache that has fallen onto the ground while Billy lifts one with his magic and examines it, wrinkling his nose.

"Boys, if you would?" Agatha calls, passing her upper half through the door and almost right into another young woman in a purple outfit, carrying a bow. "Oh, what the hell. I guess you're the friend Billy's podcast guests called to come help out, right?"

Billy and Tommy give Agatha a dirty look. Agatha shrugs. "Were you reading my texts?" Billy asks.

"You weren't paying attention to them, so I did," Agatha replies unapologetically. "Turns out they were important AND you're right about ghost abilities working better with energy than matter."

"Okay, so I've been here thirty seconds and I already owe Cassie an apology," the archer says, looking at the argument and sighing. "You guys are absolutely unhinged."

"Right?" Yelena asks. "How did you get roped into this mess, Kate Bishop? And why would you do this to me? How do I get my hands back?"

"Sorry, Yelena," the purple-wearing girl says. "It dissolves in an hour. We'll be gone by then."

"Kate Bishop, are you really helping these three?" Yelena asks. "This is going to get you in trouble. Clint Barton might disapprove. This ghost lady is a very bad person, you know."

"Got a few calls and texts from some friends while these three were in the air," Kate says, pointing a thumb at Agatha and the twins. "Apparently, they don't want Ghost Karen and the twins in Fed custody. Clint doesn't approve, but he also says that he doesn't approve of what the CIA is doing in general, so it was my choice if I wanted to be involved and he wouldn't judge."

While this explanation is going on, Agatha gestures at the pile of weapons on the Turnpike. Tommy starts picking up guns and throwing them in his duffel bag, as Billy starts levitating what are clearly more dangerous objects.

"These may actually be hexed to resist magic interference," Billy says quietly to Agatha. "I couldn't lift some of them."

"We should find someone who does tech," Agatha says to him, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "I really don't like the idea of magic-proof weapons. But first, let's get the hell out of here. Second time in two days we've gotten into a massive confrontation on the side of the road? Not great."

Kate Bishop, the girl with the arrows, looks at the trio quickly working to abscond with a bunch of magic-resistant weapons and go and makes a face. 

"Man, you three are a hell of a team for a ghost and two teenagers," she says. "Hasn't Tommy only been with you guys for a day?"

"They're my fam," Tommy says, throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder and wincing at the weight. "I trust them, even though it makes them cringe. You got a car or something?"

"Or something," Kate says, looking down. "I got an Uber here and didn't think about how we'd get back."

Yelena laughs. "Have fun, Kate Bishop!" she yells. "Hope you don't have a hard time crossing the Turnpike!"

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The episode ends rather abruptly, and I'll add Billy's show notes at the end, as they are rather illuminating. But this is where it fades in from the last experiential cut.]

BILLY: I've been going through the files. I think I found out how I can trigger the...flashback? Experiential? For myself.

TOMMY: Should we go check on Agatha? After she heard two or three reactions to her life, she told us she was out for a while and went...somewhere. Where does she go when she's not materializing?

BILLY: I haven't asked and she hasn't told. Agatha likes her privacy.

KATE: So I imagine she's pissed at you or whoever just broadcast her entire life all over the internet in ways that the rest of us can't even imagine.

BILLY: Yeah, if it's not Agatha's whole scam all along, feeding us a bunch of lies about how she's a sad victim using the podcast to give her side of the story.

TOMMY: I don't actually think Auntie Ags would do that.

BILLY: Well, you all didn't watch Agatha let people die on the Witches' Road knowing the entire time it wasn't real, so maybe you should just let me have this.

KATE: Look, I'm not necessarily on Team Witch-Killer, but also the flashbacks don't feel rehearsed. They aren't always sympathetic. Even the tiny bit of what she did to Edgar Allan Poe's dad was brutal and I don't even understand what happened with that Richmond fire but I looked it up and that was a really awful thing to do.

BILLY: I didn't mean to do this. If I did it. I don't even know what to say if it was me.

TOMMY: You're going to have to talk to Agatha. Like, with sincerity. I know you guys don't do that, but it might be a start.

KATE: Also, I don't want to make it worse, but there's another huge topic of gossip that even normal listeners have about the pod that gets more intense when you get the flashbacks.

BILLY: Oh, god, what's that?

KATE: Billy, who the hell is Rio?

TOMMY: Oh, that's right, you didn't tell me THAT either. All I got was Rio is the ex and somehow the other baby mama but there's more to it?

BILLY: Oh, I'm dead. I'm so dead. Agatha is going to kill me and I might even prefer that.

KATE: Why?

BILLY: Nope. Not even going to broach the subject on the pod. That's it for Interview with the Witch-Killer for this week, maybe for a longer period.

(OUTRO MUSIC: The Smiths, "Bigmouth Strikes Again")

(SHOW NOTES/EPILOGUE)

BILLY: Hi, this is Billy, AKA Wiccan, from Interview with the Witch-Killer and I wanted to add a few show notes for people and why we even bothered to publish an episode after finding out about the gross invasion of Agatha Harkness' privacy and you know, all sorts of batshit insane drama where we're on the run and Avengers are interested and a bunch of stuff I didn't think was going to happen when I wanted to tape some conversations between me and Agatha while we looked for Tommy.

BILLY (CONT'D): Agatha and I decided to post the episode even with the risks. She is furious, as you might imagine, but has accepted after an hour of plumbing the inside of my head, that whatever causes the flashes was not a conscious attempt at magic by me. Also she says that it's still more interesting than whatever Wanda has done with her magic, which Tommy says means she's mad but she'll forgive me. I. You guys, I'm not used to having a brother because we weren't together for all that time, but Tommy's pretty great. I really don't know what Agatha or I would do without him.

BILLY (CONT'D): I also need to thank Doreen Green. She really is unbeatable. She's already trying to help us unravel the weird techno-magic thing this podcast is doing and I just love her. Next time I get into the city and I'm not on the run, dinner for you and Tippy is absolutely on me. I also want to thank Ms. Marvel and her friend B for being so helpful. You guys and your group chats are honestly the secret MVPs of this podcast. 

BILLY: And finally, um. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Billy's voice drops nearly to a whisper here] Wanda? If you can hear us...we're trying to find you, too. It's your choice what you do with that.

Chapter Text

Episode 5 Reactions

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Internet reaction to episode 5 was predictably bombastic, especially given the evidence of CIA involvement. The more interesting responses come from the comments by the interagency task force assigned to the MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS INCIDENTS and several young heroes being mentored by ex-Avengers who have interacted with the Maximoff twins. I would also be remiss if I didn't mention Stephen Strange's hyperbolic response as the treatment of Wanda Maximoff broke the usual news blackout that superhero mishaps have.]

TikTok Video Reaction

(originally found on c.lang.08's TikTok, hashtagged Avengers, the Avenger-Industrial Complex, IwtWK, WitchTok, i hate u both, and approximately 15 other popular tags)

[Cassie Lang is sitting on her bed, with a frown on her face, holding an Avengers lunchbox]

CASSIE LANG: So, you probably know my dad, Scott, is an Avenger. Was an Avenger. They aren't really a thing anymore and I have to admit I'm glad now after everything I've found out this week.

[A screenshot of a scrolling group text titled MY FRIENDS FROM WORK! appears with the words "Doctor Strange Doesn't Care About Wanda" on top of it.]

CASSIE LANG: I'm out. My dad shared a bunch of stuff, and when Grandma and I told him about all the stuff we found out about how Wanda Maximoff picked up the Book of the Damned and died, he freaked out, too. Then Dad asked Doctor Strange about it and you know what he said? 'I'm sorry that the twins feel that way, but I'm happier knowing the multiverse is safe from Wanda Maximoff and those like her.' At least my dad admitted he messed up and admitted that Westview - you know, the thing that totally happened that the government is still lying about three years later? - was a failure on the part of the Avengers. He admitted everyone was so glad to have their friends and family back from the Blip they didn't really think about anything else.

[Another screenshot from the group text with the title MY FRIENDS FROM WORK! with the words "Ur a Petty Man, Doc" on top of them.]

CASSIE LANG: Also, the petty sexist bullshit about how I got conned by my own sympathy? Say it to my face. Oh, wait, you won't even come back from the Dark Dimension and meet the victims of your smug moralizing. Never mind. 

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Can anyone take Doctor Strange's phone away or make him come home? At least everyone else has the good sense to shut up about how bad Wanda's rampage was when talking about her sixteen year old twins that he did tell Wanda were fake.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Valentina asked Stark Industries if it was possible. Apparently not.]

---

[Prerecorded lead-in to the podcast]

TOMMY: Billy says I have to do the intro because I gave him too much shit, so here we go. Interview with the Witch-Killer is a non-fiction podcast about my family and our quest to reunite us, or to at least hear some cool stories about Agatha Harkness, the most infamous witch in the world.

(INTRO MUSIC - "You Don't Care About Us", Placebo)

BILLY: Hey, I'm Billy and this is our podcast. You, the listener, might be wondering why we're still doing this given we're on the run and don't need it to find Tommy and we're giving random people hallucinations. The answer is that this is our way of communicating how done we are with all the heroes out there.

TOMMY: Real talk. Why would you send teenagers a bunch of group chat screenshots to try to show how you didn't mean to screw over our mom? That's pathetic.

BILLY: Yeah. A bunch of Avengers are trying to apologize to us for not helping Wanda now . We're not even really mad that nobody believed we were alive, because Agatha explained that sigil on me prevented people knowing. And then she pointed out SHE figured it out anyway and that was with several people trying to kill her at the same time, which is typical Agatha.

TOMMY: You know what else is messed up? How many people watched the Hex show and didn't even think 'hmm, maybe Wanda Maximoff needs industrial-strength therapy?' or do ANYTHING? Maybe the Darkhold wouldn't have fucked her up so bad if you people checked in occasionally. By the way, stop sending it to us, we saw it.

BILLY: I also don't think we accept the apologies.

TOMMY: Yeah, I came out of this black-pilled about Avengers. Auntie Ags is right, the Feds and the weapon agencies suck. Also, you know who really sucks? Doctor Strange. Fuck that guy.

BILLY: Hard agree. When the serial-killing witch who tried to drain your mom for power was less shitty to her than the Sorcerer Supreme, it will change your mind about some things. Especially in light of some messages from the current week that we received.

TOMMY: We saw those "she was a threat to the multiverse" texts, asshole and the bullshit you said about Cassie and Janet. I hope Agatha fucks you up personally. The shit you did to our soul parents was so wrong. I saw you whining about how you had to do it to save us all from Thanos, but fuck you anyway.

BILLY: That would be such a slay. He's the one person I could be okay with being a juice box, TBH.

TOMMY: By the way, these are our honest opinions. We're not being mind-controlled.

BILLY: Right? We didn't even know how awful Strange was when Wanda got her hands on the Darkhold until Avengers told us, beyond Agatha's vague Wanda-dreams. The details were so much worse, you guys.

TOMMY: You all are busted and we have group chats, too, so get fucked with your fake guilt. If the serial-killing witch does better than Captain America at protecting your old teammate's kids, that's on, oh wait, you. And now we're going to take a quick break and keep talking because we're stuck on the run and have nothing better to do thanks to you all.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Great work, team. Not just Cassie Lang is upset. Kate Bishop and Kamala Khan are in long discussions with their mentors asking some serious questions about how old Wanda was when Clint fried her with an arrow, some statements Bruce made about Wanda, and the general treatment of the original Maximoff twins in Sokovia.

AGENT 2 NOTE: I don't even think Strange is WRONG about how bad Wanda got when she got the Darkhold and I still kind of get why the twins are ready to watch him die.

AGENT 3 NOTE: He's a giant asshole. Even though I think Agatha Harkness is bad news, I don't blame Scott for sharing those texts, though I wish he hadn't. He made a bad thing worse, like international incident worse. You know where the twins are right now? A secure Wakandan consulate.

AGENT 1 NOTE: WHAT THE FUCK? How? Why?

AGENT 3 NOTE: Princess Shuri really does not like Valentina or the CIA. She also had none of the details about Westview and what came after. Agatha Harkness is happily telling everyone everything in a way that benefits her manipulative ghost self. Plus she and the twins stole a bunch of magic-proof weapons from me. They offered themselves, information, and the weapons when Shuri's representative reached out. Wakanda agreed to the deal. King M'Baku thought it was hilarious, of course. That guy is such a troll.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Turnpike incident is breaking news containment, too, and the PR is all bad or worse. You all saw that Pepper Potts announcement in Westview, right?

AGENT 1 NOTE: Is that why she announced the Wanda Victims Fund or whatever they're calling it? I saw that press conference. Those people were pissed about how long their claims about the Hex were lied about.

AGENT 3 NOTE: She and Valentina had a three hour meeting in the tower. I couldn't hear anything but they yelled a lot. There is a Congressional investigation coming. We're all probably going to get subpoenas.

AGENT 2 NOTE: So to recap, Agatha won this round. The Maximoff twins are telling Doctor Strange to 'cash them outside' with their murder auntie, the CIA looks evil and incompetent, the Avengers look like jerks who don't care about anyone but themselves until they look bad, and then she got Wakanda and the Pym-Van Dyne people on her side?

AGENT 1 NOTE: Once again, great work, team.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Also my mother called me and told me that if I see Agatha again, to tell her hi in a flirty voice. It is the worst day.]

(TRANSITION MUSIC: St. Vincent, "Big Time Nothing")

BILLY: Anyway. I don't trust Agatha, to knock down another internet talking point. At all.

TOMMY: My brother from the same soul mother, please.

BILLY: No.

TOMMY: No, what?

BILLY: Never say the words "my brother from the same soul mother" ever again. That's cringe.

TOMMY: You're cringe if you don't admit that you absolutely believe in Agatha. It's just that you also know she's also a based con artist who doesn't mind killing people for looking at her wrong and will lie to your face if she decides she wants to.

BILLY: And what about you?

TOMMY: I'm down with BOTH of your moral issues because we're family. I don't want Agatha to eat Wanda or anyone because yuck, but that's where I'm at. She solo'd a guy with her ghost hands for us, then she did a deal with the CIA to try and protect the Kaplans, and now she's doing mad shit for this new deal and you're still butthurt because she didn't tell you that she knew your Witches' Road thing was real.

BILLY: You didn't watch a bunch of your coven die and then find out it didn't have to happen! You need to be less trusting before you get hurt like I did.

TOMMY: Did you not try to kill Agatha over that? I'm pretty sure you did.

BILLY: Shut up, Tommy!

TOMMY: You're the one who mind-controlled those witches into trying to drown her in mud and THEN you tried to exorcise Agatha when she confirmed that you made the Road. And that's fine, but don't make yourself out to be the good guy here.

BILLY: I said, shut up.

TOMMY: No, I'm not going to shut up. You're being a prick.

BILLY: You don't know anything!

TOMMY: Maybe I don't, but let's face it, you're both fully capable of murder, as far as I can tell, and so is Wanda. Apparently, so are most of the Avengers if they decide it's justified.

BILLY: She lied to me!

TOMMY: Agatha does that. Even she says so. Why are you taking it so personally?

BILLY: Because...because I saved her from that spell.

TOMMY: Is that why, or is it because you think you're Agatha's special boy and she shouldn't have lied to you, Billy Kaplan, personally? Oh, shit, you absolutely do, though.

BILLY: Screw you! You're making fun of me and you don't even know what it was like.

TOMMY: I'm not making fun of you, you're just being an asshole.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The transcript then indicates a number of grunts, an electrical sound that is most likely B. Maximoff's magical abilities being triggered, a loud crash of glass breaking, and then the muffled noises of T. Maximoff trying to speak]

AGATHA: What the hell is GOING ON?

Three Weeks After the New Jersey Turnpike. Wakandan Consulate, Somerville, Massachusetts.

At least one glass panel in the lab is already wrecked due to the twins' first fight. Tommy had needled Billy, Billy had attempted to smack him with magic, Tommy had dodged it with his speed, and then Billy had finally finished losing his temper.

"You guys have to stop! There are tens of millions of dollars of cutting edge tech down here!" Riri is yelling. Billy pays no attention and Tommy is too busy trying to free himself from where he's stuck to a wall to register her words.

"What the hell is GOING ON?" a voice suddenly bellows.

Agatha materializes, and the entire lab has eyes on her. Because Agatha is fully visible, clearly corporeal, and she is sparking with power, head to toe. Her eyes are glowing purple against Billy's blue power, and her gown is moving on its own, swirling around her with the same anger that has her eyes narrowed. 

She takes one look at Tommy, who is trapped with his mouth hexed shut. Her right hand elegantly swirls around and she draws her index finger in a little lasso shape.

The extremely powerful son of the Scarlet Witch finds his hands pulled together. He squeaks as he is magically dragged across the room to fall to his knees in front of his teacher and coven-mate.

"You can't overpower me," Billy hisses, his jaw clenched tight. "We both know that."

"Try me," Agatha snarls back.

Billy glowers and tries to jerk his hands apart, only to find them trapped within his own magic. Both of his hands seem fused inside a ball of blue power and the harder he pulls, the harder it is to move them. He takes a second, closes his eyes, and then slowly tries to pull his hands free, which doesn't work either. Agatha tilts her head and purses her lips when he tries the second method, nodding with approval.

He opens his dark eyes and then tries to cast again, eyes going blue and his crown appearing. In response to that, Agatha narrows her eyes and pulls harder on the power stopping Billy's.

"Not a chance," Agatha snarls. "You think I'm weak right now? You think I'm helpless little Ghost Agatha? You think I've gone soft ?"

Her hand flicks outward, the gesture surprisingly sloppy and tinged with the anger suffusing her face. Billy jerks upward, suspended a foot or two up in the air, his crown gone.

"I'd never make that mistake," Billy spits back. "You're the witch-killer and that's always who you'll be."

Agatha rears back, clearly ready to deliver a crushing verbal blow, when Tommy makes a weird noise from where he's stuck. She half-spins, eyes flashing. When she realizes Tommy is trying to speak, her whole body softens except for the hand keeping Billy in place.

"Tommy?" she asks.

"You guys should...you guys should capture this," Tommy says between his teeth, sounding like his jaw has been wired shut. "For the research."

Agatha's face freezes and her shoulders sag ever so slightly. Her eyes prick up with tears and she quickly moves to where Tommy is stuck, moving her hands over Billy's spellwork. Her left hand is twitching, the fingers dancing in an unconscious pattern, one-two-three-four-one-two-three-four, occasionally tapping against her thumb.

"Ghosts are tied to this plane by emotion," Agatha murmurs to herself, reaching out and putting her fingers on Tommy's mouth, the brush of them over his lips revealing Billy's spell, an odd swirling faux-sigil literally trying to shut Tommy up for a while. "Angry, were we?"

"I wanted to kill him," Billy mutters guiltily. "I settled for shutting him up for a minute."

"Why did the twin with the magic get the Maximoff temper?" Agatha asks rhetorically, sighing and throwing her arms out in one of her preferred dramatic gestures. "Meanwhile, the smart-ass twin with no defenses against any of us got Vision's even temper and big-picture thinking. Now that was a synthezoid it was hard to rile up. I know. I tried and he just tried to help me, the big dork."

She frowns, an expression like curdled milk crossing her face. And then Agatha turns toward Billy and draws him right up to her with her powers, staring him down as he looks at her with frustration and rage.

"I have always been able to hear your thoughts when you start yelling them at me. I'm also telekinetic. And yes, I can hurt you, so get that idea right out of your stupid teenage head," Agatha warns him when she drops him to the floor. "I'm not going to drain you, even if you do blast me, but I can and will turn you upside down and shake you if you act like a shit, Billy. And this was you being a shit. Now undo it."

Billy scowls and cracks his knuckles, but stands up and walks to where Tommy's hand and mouth are held by laced-around blue power. "I've never seen my magic like this before," he admits, looking at it curiously. "I didn't think it would look like this."

"Did you think it would look like anything?" Agatha asks as Billy starts slowly freeing Tommy's mouth from his spell. "You and Wanda tend to do first and think never."

"Fine, you're right, I hadn't thought about it," Billy says. "But I can feel the emotions too, and how it shaped and guided the spell, now that you made it visible."

"Do you think you could do it again, now that you feel the way you turned the magic into a temporary hex, without being murderously angry?" Agatha asks, her lips pursed as she strokes her neck and her brooch.

Billy frowns and starts working on the spell holding Tommy's hand, moving along the lines and knots of the magic. As he concentrates, Agatha starts breathing slowly, focused on something else. Her hands start moving in her own spell-casting method, feeling their way through the air as Billy strokes and moves, freeing Tommy so suddenly that there's a little sparkle in the air as Tommy starts rubbing his shoulder and stretching, the spell on his mouth only half-freed.

"Bro," Tommy tries to say, reminding his twin that the spell is not yet broken. Billy blinks and moves his own hand suddenly, and Tommy gasps and takes a deep breath. "Holy shit, that felt weird!"

Billy turns to the quietly working Agatha, who is still tracing the air with her hands, purple sparkling. He looks at her intensely, something clearly clicking in his head the same way it's clicking in hers.

"Say something," he says suddenly. "Tell me a story. One of the scandalous ones you like shocking me with."

Agatha opens one eye. "Want to hear about how Rio finally drove me into going after the Darkhold?" she asks, the purple glow starting to move in strange, braided ways. "It might get nasty, fair warning."

"Sounds like a good one," Billy agrees, trying to imitate Agatha's hand movements as she begins to speak.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The pacing and cuts in the transcript are unusual, probably caused by the conscious effort to shape and edit the experiential flashbacks. In addition, the Wakandan security tech may have played a role in the way the episode was experienced. Further, while it cannot be confirmed independently, the guest joining the episode may be a young Harvard student named Riri Williams who assisted Princess Shuri during the attacks by Namor on Wakanda recently.]

(TRANSITION MUSIC: Tori Amos, "Glory of the 80s")

TOMMY: We got someone to talk to us in our undisclosed location. What should we call you? I know you aren't doing your name or anything like it and I don't blame you.

RIRI WILLIAMS: Nothing. Call me your new friend, I don't care.

BILLY: Hey, new friend. Thanks for talking to us.

RIRI: It was the only way you'd answer questions about that sick magic trick you and Agatha pulled this afternoon.

TOMMY: Yeah, they're like that.

RIRI: So what the hell is the Darkhold?

BILLY: It WAS the Book of the Damned, written by Chthon, the first demon.

RIRI: And your mom and your aunt here both wielded that thing?

TOMMY: Yes, but Wanda destroyed every copy in the multiverse when she died or tried to die or whatever.

RIRI: Wasn't that after she killed a shitton of people?

AGATHA: Oh, do you mean when dear, overpowered Wanda went on the multiverse rampage? (chuckles) Yes, she did kill many, many people, even though all the good guys try to cover it up. I was there. Or maybe I wasn't. At least, I got the replay. She used a vibranium shield to cut a version of Peggy Carter in half.

RIRI: What the fuck. That's nasty.

AGATHA: That wasn't even the most creative death. That's what she did to the stretchy guy. Literally turned him into spaghetti. It was the most interesting thing I've ever seen Wanda do and it probably wasn't her idea.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Wait, did we know Agatha knew this much about Wanda's multiverse rampage?

AGENT 2 NOTE: She did say she had a lot of Wanda's dreams in one of the episodes. I thought it was like the Westview victims were dealing with, but it might be more.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Every time she opens her mouth, I think of all the new investigations that are going to happen because of it and which ones will lead to a new subpoena for me.]

RIRI: Do you just not mind people dying horribly?

AGATHA: I was eighteen when my mom and her coven tried to burn me from the inside out at the stake. I watched the Titanic go down, and the Hindenburg go up. I have personally witnessed battles in the Thirty Years' War, the Seven Years' War, the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, World Wars One and Two, and all the fun and exciting shit superheroes have done to the planet and that's not even counting the various things I have personally done to other beings.

BILLY: That's Agatha for "usually not". How long did you have the Darkhold, by the way?

TOMMY: Oh, Agatha doesn't want to tell us. What, like five minutes?

AGATHA: Almost forty years.

BILLY: Almost forty years? Didn't it turn a version of Stephen Strange into a soulless three-eyed monster? It absolutely destroyed Wanda in months, I know that. And you had it for decades ? What were you DOING with it?

AGATHA: Research, protection, a little dream-walking. 

BILLY: And that's it? I don't believe you.

AGATHA: It's not my fault most people who put their hands on the Darkhold decide to go ham the second they open it. The Darkhold likes to pretend it's a dark path to your wildest dreams, a monkey's paw type thing. If you're dumb enough to trust a book written by the First Demon to be what it says on the tin, it is that. But I had already waited centuries for my wildest dreams so I could afford to be a little more rigorous against the thing and it didn't even deliver.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: WONG WAS NOT AWARE OF THE PODCAST.

AGENT 1 NOTE: Wait, the Sorcerer Supreme wasn't aware that Wanda's twins are alive and with their murder auntie? Or anything that happened with Mordo? Or any of this mess?

AGENT 2 NOTE: He was not! I'm pretty sure he only found out because he had to call Jen Walters about an ongoing lawsuit.

AGENT 3 NOTE: What did you say before, Jimmy? Great work, team? Great work, team.]

Summer 1987. Lower East Side, Manhattan.

The Book of the Damned hides its wielders from all their enemies. Not even Death can conquer it.

The words play over and over in Agatha's brain like a siren song, like that damn Madonna song that Rio sang at her that keeps getting stuck in Agatha's head. And just like that, it rears up, playing back in her feverish brain again.

When you see her, say a prayer and kiss your heart goodbye...

Two hundred years and more of running and there were times Agatha wanted to give up and give in to her despite all the pain and hurt throbbing in her heart and head. Now, for instance. She'd been working a lazy con down in Alphabet City after taking the place from some old lady who knew of Agatha, but not enough to know not to attack Agatha. Put up posters for Real Darque Magick, figure out which of the little Goth kids were witches and which ones were wannabes, spend one night figuring her marks out, and then take them out to Central Park to "open the Witches' Road".

NYPD blamed heroin overdoses and crack. Nobody cared. Agatha barely cared.

So when she'd opened the door for "this badass girl I met up in Washington Heights, a real bruja, an absolute punk", who had been standing there, hair cropped just like Ms. Ciccione herself?

"Mi señorita más fina ," Rio says, reaching out and putting her hand right against Agatha's cheek before stroking her hair carefully. "Who's that girl?"

"Oh, fuck off, bitch," Agatha greets her beloved, pulling away.

"I was invited, baby," her annoying ex says, just as one of the marks shrieks and yells, "That's her! That's Rio, the bruja I was telling you about! She told me that you were legit!"

Rio tilts her head at Agatha and winks. She looks annoyingly, delightfully good. The platinum blonde Madonna hair against her dark eyebrows and eyes works. She's wearing a black denim jacket over a white crop top, and deep green denim cut-offs along with a pair of Doc Martens.

"Your new friends were worried you were a scammer, baby," she says, reaching out and taking Agatha's hand and stroking it with her thumb. "I told them it wasn't true, that you were a real witchy bitch. But I gotta say, you're looking a little rough around the edges, sweetheart."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Agatha hisses at her relentless ex. "The minute you find me, I have no peace. Not even in dreams."

"When have you had peace in the last two hundred or so years?" Rio asks, looking Agatha over. "You're still playing the same games and your marks get sadder ever year."

Rio bares her teeth. It probably looks like a smile to the four young witches who are trying to figure out what the hell is going on between the two older women. 

"Hey, Lisa?" one of the young witches says. It takes Agatha a minute to remember that's her name right now. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, honey," Agatha says, plastering a smile on her face. "Rio just had a couple too many before she showed up and she was getting on my nerves, but everything's fine now."

Agatha stomps into the living room, throwing herself in the rattan chair and grimacing as one of the rickety straps snaps immediately. She sighs, admitting to herself that Rio isn't exactly wrong. These baby witches are almost too sad to eat. Junkies, street kids, and worst of all, the type of girl who really, really loves Anne Rice and Siouxsie and the Banshees. That one is calling herself Claudia, after the child vampire, and Agatha has considered just snapping Claudia's neck and shoving her in the East River, but Claudia is also the only one of the baby witches with parents and family who might actually notice if she was gone.

"Hey, did you get the Jack Daniels?" asks Jamie. Jamie is the scrawny street kid with a surprising amount of raw power whose eyes are absolutely covered in black eyeliner and who's sporting a split lip and a ratty tank top under a jean jacket. She's asking Claudia, thank fuck. Agatha isn't going to buy a bunch of teenagers whiskey with whatever she's managed to keep for herself, and Claudia might be an NYU student? Something about her is too well cared-for despite her oversized army surplus jacket and regularly dirty hair.

Claudia takes out the half-empty bottle of Jack and pours a round for everyone, lighting up a clove. Denise and Amy, the quiet ones, look at each other nervously. Then Amy licks her lips and looks over at Claudia, her gaze zooming past Agatha and Rio.

"Can I have one?" Amy asks, while Denise nervously reaches out to take Amy's hand. Oh, the two of them are together , baby lesbian witches who are probably catching hell for it at home. Agatha feels a twist of disgust at herself in her gut.

"Sure, just pay me back," Claudia says. Amy swallows and takes the clove. Denise, who has the kind of black hair that screams boxes of cheap hair dye and 501s that scream butch, squeezes and then looks over at Agatha's thrice-damned ex, who is doing that thing she does where she hovers with a slight menace to her and makes the entire room ever-so-slightly uncomfortable.

"So," Jamie says. "I didn't come here to dick around, Lisa. You said that you could tap us into the mystical energy of the cosmos, that you were a real witch. I'm not here for bad booze and chit-chat with dykes. I want to get witchy. I need to go find my dad and kick his ass."

Agatha leans forward, looking at her potential victims, and then over at her ex, and then back at Jamie, who's barely holding back tears. She takes the girl's hands and lets her eyes glow purple before tapping into Jamie's mind, muttering an incantation in Latin to read the kid's memories.

"Holy shit," Amy whispers to Denise. "It's real. It's really fuckin' real."

It takes maybe thirty seconds of being in Jamie's memories to make Agatha's usual game turn to ashes in her mouth.

"You're fifteen?" Agatha asks, opening her eyes. "Get the hell out of my house. All of you. Claudia, buy this kid a meal, take her to the cafeteria or whatever. She can't go home. Don't let her sleep on the street tonight."

Claudia's mouth opens and closes. Agatha stands up, running her hands through her hair.

Jamie is crying now. "But you said," the kid complains, her lip quivering. "You said you knew about things like gaining power through the craft and the Witches' Road and..."

"If anyone ever offers to take you on the Witches' Road, run the other way," Agatha says, putting her hands on her hips. "It's fake. It's a death trap. Also, you ever hear the name Agatha Harkness? Run. That bitch is real, and she will kill you."

All of the witches are crying now, except for Claudia, who looks pissed. Agatha advances on her, fists clenched, eyes lit up purple, ready to show the little brat exactly who was in charge here and then Rio reminds everyone of her existence.

"Lisa, honey," she says, putting an arm around Agatha's waist. Agatha would punch her but she needs to get these sad kids out of her apartment fifteen minutes ago and She is good at following Agatha's lead in situations like this. "Stop scaring them."

"They should be scared," Agatha says. "Not everyone...not everyone is going to look at you four and see a pack of messed-up kids with a little bit of witchy power."

Her eyes catch her beloved's and Rio shakes her head with an emotion that Agatha can't quite identify. "Come on, girls," she says, not smiling at either them or Agatha. "Let her sleep this off. She's not herself tonight."

The door slams and Agatha takes a long swig from the bottle as her lady, her wife, and her enemy walks back toward her, lips twisted in something between a smile and a grimace. Despite the complaining, it's probably been at least a decade since Agatha collided with Rio directly. Agatha has always been able to feel her on the back of her neck, something cool and always somehow intoxicating and calming at the same time. It makes it very easy to avoid her most of the time, but it also means Agatha never rests easily. She's always waiting for that cool tickle, the shiver of someone walking over her grave.

Because Rio will always come after Agatha. Every time. And every time it's going to take everything in Agatha not to be drawn back in.

"Gonna make fun of me for going soft?" Agatha asks as she walks back into the apartment. "No bodies for you tonight, baby."

"You never do take kids unless you have to," Rio says, squatting down and putting a hand on Agatha's leg. "This is going to kill you someday, you know. Chasing down any flicker of power, doing the same old con. You don't bother to do anything with it, you just grab and run. I didn't even have to work to find you this time. You put up fucking posters, Agatha."

"As you like to say, all roads lead to you, at the end," Agatha says, feeling morose and tired enough that she hasn't taken a swing at Rio yet. "Did you see that Bowie movie about me? The Hunger ? Absolute garbage. The writer could not grasp that I was a witch and not a vampire once I described my powers, totally went in his own direction. At least I was played by Catherine Denevue in the movie." 

Rio taps Agatha on the knee, waking her from the reverie Agatha can so easily fall into near her ex. They're still so easy together. Agatha misses easy, sometimes. The cons are easy, but it's not the same. She has to string the witches along, soothe their worries, earn their trust step by tedious step, and even though it works, it's not anything like talking to Rio. Even in the depths of their loathing for each other, the trust is still there. They are still a we , when it comes down to it.

"I hate how you talk about yourself," Rio says in her gentlest voice.

"I saved a couple of stupid teenage witches tonight, warning them about that psycho bitch," Agatha says. "Now get out of my house."

"Let me stay a while," Rio says, her eyes suddenly lit up with the addictive mixture of desire, adoration, and amoral disinterest in who should live. To her, they all die eventually; why not at the hand of Agatha Harkness, who is so very good at dealing out death? "Mi corazón, it's been so long."

Agatha wants to say please , wants to somehow shove this aggravating creature away and make her stay away, but she's weak right now. She'll hate herself for it in the morning, but the loneliness is hitting hard and without anything to take the edge off, Agatha is teetering close to feeling all the pain she refuses to let take her under.

"Over a decade," Agatha agrees. "And that was what, for five minutes in West Berlin?"

Rio lifts Agatha to her feet with one hand. She's always been stronger than her form looks, and it's so easy to give just a little, to rest an arm over Rio's shoulder. To not pull away when Rio puts her arm around Agatha's waist, pulling her in. The feeling of Rio's hand tangled in her hair makes Agatha sway with wanting, makes her mouth dry out.

"I want you underneath me," Rio whispers. "Anything you want me to do to you. Anything, mi vida."

"Let me go," Agatha pleads as Rio's lips ghost against her collarbone, as Rio's teeth nip at the skin. "Let me...oh, God, like that, yes. Harder."

"I'll never let you go," Rio says, her hands finding the waistband of Agatha's ugly leopard-print miniskirt and pulling it down. "You don't want me to. I know you, Agatha. You love me, you know you do."

The tears are already starting to fall. The squeeze in Agatha's chest from relaxing into the embrace is cold and painful, like ice slipping into her veins, fuzzing through the muscles of her arms, into her stomach. Rio knows that Agatha loves her, but cannot understand how much Agatha despises herself for it, any more than she understands why Agatha won't go back to her. Any more than she can understand why tomorrow at sunrise, Agatha will be a thousand miles from New York, following any lead she can on the Darkhold so this never happens again.

Agatha leans forward and captures Rio's mouth with her own. "Stop talking," she begs suddenly. "Just...make it go away. For now?"

RIRI: OK, who is Rio? Heard about her in the last episode and then Billy noped out.

TOMMY: Yeah, the public wants to know.

BILLY: No, they absolutely do not.

TOMMY: Bullshit, I was on TikTok and Insta, everyone wants to know.

RIRI: I mean, she has to be some big time dark sorcerer or something if you needed the Darkhold to hide from her.

AGATHA: Or something.

TOMMY: Ugh, why are you so cryptic about your ex? You both act like this Rio chick is scarier than anything you've ever seen.

BILLY: That's because she is.

AGATHA: Also it sounds ridiculous when you actually say it.

RIRI: Then say it and then we'll laugh and then say 'what, really? Your ex is Loki's secret daughter?'

AGATHA: Fine. I'll share, but some things get to stay private.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: OH COME ON, AGATHA.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Whoever this Rio is has to be terrifying. Does anyone here know a lot about various magical beings? Or hey, you could ask Jennifer Kale.

JK NOTE: He did, and I agree with Billy and Agatha. Some things we just shouldn't be sharing. Of course I think they should have avoiding the podcast but at least it's really funny to watch Agatha blow up the Avengers because she could.

AGENT 2 NOTE: You gave Jennifer Kale access to the file?

AGENT 1 NOTE: Ms. Kale has been a cooperative witness. And she knew everything anyway.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Subpoena, subpoena, and even more subpoenas.]

Three Weeks After the New Jersey Turnpike. Wakandan Consulate, Somerville, Massachusetts.

The story ends, a polite fade to black. Billy and Agatha stare at the tangle of magic they've made together. Purple and blue, and leaching into each, the faintest red filaments, so carefully woven into the memory spell that it might be a mistake, a little glimpse that the two witches want to see, rather than something that's actually there. Except they both know it's not a mistake.

"If we touch it, will she know?" Billy asks, walking around the visible spell. "Would that be bad?"

"I don't know and I don't know. I have never seen anything like this," Agatha says, her hands clenching and unclenching. "I almost don't want to try to explain what we did."

And at the same time, Agatha is smiling, her eyes relaxed as she looks at what she and Billy have created. She is less afraid of getting close to it than Billy, her visible-yet-incorporeal fingers brushing the edges, even daring to touch the red filaments, which glow when she interacts with them. When Billy notices that, he gives Agatha a sidelong glance. She shrugs and winks.

Tommy and Riri, who are a few feet back from the witches, are both open-mouthed. The Wakandan scientists are respectfully taking notes, but it's clear none of them are quite sure what to do with what they've witnessed.

"That's so cool," Tommy says.

Billy and Agatha are still in their own private world, trying to understand what exactly they've done.

"It's something between an illusion and a memory spell, but you made it coherent," Billy says. "I didn't know you could do that."

"I couldn't, not alone," Agatha says, still smiling. "Look at it. See how it's woven together here and here and here? This is you. You took the story and pulled it into your magic, almost like you were trying to see it for yourself, what it would feel like to be in my memory, to feel what I felt. We made it together."

Billy is grinning like a child and the two of them are standing so close together that a strange expression crosses Tommy's face. Riri notices it, but as fast as it's come, it's gone. 

"And what about her? What did she do?" Billy asks.

"She made it stay," Agatha says. "She wants to see it again, I think. She ties it to this reality firmly. My memories and feelings, your heart and your magic, her power and I think her desire to reach out."

Tommy coughs, breaking the privacy of the moment. "We should get Billy's phone and see if it'll record," he suggests. Billy and Agatha turn to look at him and Billy nods rapidly, along with a single nod from Agatha.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: By all accounts, not only did the spell 'record' as suggested by T. Maximoff, it had an extremely high success rate with listeners, sparking mild panics among those listeners who had never had one before. See the #ISawTheWitchKillerCry for various accounts]

(TRANSITION MUSIC: "Teeth" by Perfume Genius)

RIRI: OK, I don't even understand what you did.

BILLY: We're working on some theories. It should be impossible. It might be impossible for anyone else. See, Agatha's deepest magic latches onto other magic and usually, it consumes that magic entirely.

AGATHA: But chaos magic and the fact that I was unwilling to consume Billy and unable to consume Wanda makes a difference. It latches, but it can't or won't entirely destroy it.

TOMMY: My dudes, they are geeking out. I don't even blame them, watching that happen was sick as fuck. Like, Agatha started talking and this purple magic started appearing and then Billy's magic went all, curly smoky around it and suddenly you could kind of see what was happening and then there were little zap zaps of red, only a couple of times, and then it was this...magical memory ball. 

BILLY: What I don't understand is how you figured out how to make it visible!

AGATHA: Oh, it's because I was ready to beat your ass for what you did to Tommy earlier. And I remembered one of the key parts of being a ghost is that emotion is what ties us to this plane. My emotions are a lot closer to the surface now and when I went down to make you stop, I could see how my magic was manifesting, and I think. I think I felt her, too.

BILLY: And then you started visualizing the emotional elements of the magic.

AGATHA: Exactly. It's a simple spell in a lot of ways. It makes the hidden visible, but because what I've been hiding is the emotion and now that's a lot harder...

BILLY: And I wanted to know. I've always wanted to know.

RIRI: What did you want to know?

BILLY: I want to know what makes Agatha tick. I wanted to be in your head, no offense. It's one place nobody gets to go.

AGATHA: That's creepy, but I get it. Wanda was the same way when she realized how neatly I played her in Westview. She got a freebie, but she didn't get what happened in Salem at all .

BILLY: OK, I also have a theory about Wanda being part of it. It's a three-way spell.

AGATHA (deadpan): Are we just not doing phrasing anymore?

BILLY: Sorry. But three is an immensely powerful magical number, right? Maiden, mother, crone. And we've got all three here, shut up, Tommy.

TOMMY: You said it, I didn't have to.

AGATHA: I have so many theories right now that if I had a pen and a notebook, no one would see me for a month.

RIRI: Share one of the weird ones. For science. Or so Tommy and I know what the hell you're geeking out about.

AGATHA: OK, so in any sort of symbolic system, three is usually a significant number. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost is a popular trinity. Morning, noon, and night, that's one we've all heard. The idea of a three-in-one power, where each part is separate and powerful, but are at their truest and most powerful when they are united as a singular entity. In this case, we're talking about a connection between me, Billy, and Wanda Maximoff, corresponding to the elements of the triple goddess. Maiden, mother, crone, which allows for things that shouldn't work to work. Hence the spell.

TOMMY: Hence the spell, or maybe, like that secret third thing we talked about last episode, instead of hard or dead?

AGATHA: Now that's...that's very interesting.

BILLY: I think instead of being cryptic to our listeners, we should end this conversation for now and pick it up in the next episode. If we do one.

TOMMY: Who's being cryptic now?

BILLY: Well, you never know when things are going to go wrong for us.

AGATHA: That's the spirit.

(EPISODE FADE OUT. Musical transition: "Fangs" by Dionnysuss)

BILLY: Thank you for listening to Interview with the Witch-Killer . We're going to admit this week's episode was an experiment to see if we could control what we've been accidentally doing this whole time, so if you get any flashbacks, let us know. And if you are an extremely powerful, maybe-not-dead witch who is listening...you can talk to us, too. We're trying to listen.

Chapter Text

Dark Dimension. Time Has No Real Meaning Here.

His phone has been a source of conflict since his arrival in the Dark Dimension, but Stephen thinks it's unfair to blame him for all the notifications. Everyone at home has been screaming at him, not vice versa. Besides, the situation is objectively ridiculous. How does a man explain "a random ghost has managed to turn my former coworkers against me while also making them sympathetic to the Scarlet Witch and her multiverse rampage with a podcast " to a person who thinks texting is a dire sin against the magical spirit? Also, Stephen is unsure if he could explain why people think it's his fault that Scott's daughter is posting screeds against the Avengers on TikTok without getting put into magical time out. Explaining TikTok to a Dark Dimension inhabitant is well beyond his comfort zone.

"Stephen, are you on your device again?" Clea asks when Strange's phone starts going off, notification after notification pouring in. "I should have never made it compatible with interdimensional communication. It steals your ability to focus. We've discussed this."

Strange is busily scanning the latest opinions being forwarded to him. He groans, holding up a placating hand. "Wong has informed me that I'm in trouble with him," he says. "I was unaware he had a phone, but apparently I am an ass, an idiot, and utterly ignorant of potent magical forces in ways he didn't think were possible. I might have to take his call."

Clea, the Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension, raises a questioning eyebrow. Since being summoned here by her months ago, Strange has gone from mistrusting and frankly fearing his half-demon counterpart to finding her to be a brilliant, fearless, and terrifying companion. So when she holds out her long-nailed hand, Stephen hands her the phone without saying a word. 

He's smitten. He is deeply in smit with this woman, who wouldn't hesitate to beat him up and eat his guts if she felt it was necessary.

Clea looks down at his phone and immediately begins scrolling through it, despite Stephen being fairly certain she has no idea how to use a cell phone.

"You've been quite reticent about the situation at home," Clea says, still looking through his messages. "All you've been willing to say is that you are in some sort of verbal battle with a 'minor league ghost witch and her mouthy nephews', but if the Sorcerer Supreme of your dimension is calling you names...is...Stephen Strange. Stephen. Strange."

Doctor Stephen Strange, former Sorcerer Supreme of his dimension, a man who saved half of life itself from the Blip, and who partially helped stop the Scarlet Witch when she had gotten corrupted by the Book of the Damned, looks up at his...well, they haven't defined the relationship yet. Her eyes are very narrowed and she is still going through his phone, her expression grave and not even a little amused.

"Yes, dear?" Stephen asks. He's hoping he hasn't screwed up as much as Clea's face tells him he has, but it's a faint, dimming one.

"Agatha Harkness?" she asks. "That's your minor league ghost witch?"

"Yes?" Stephen asks hopefully, trying the puppylike expression that sometimes makes Clea smile. "How did I screw up now, oh wise and knowledgeable one?"

Clea starts pacing, running her free hand through her blonde hair before thrusting his phone back at him. Stephen is starting to get alarmed. Clea has no problem telling him he's an idiot who knows nothing. Her record is forty-seven times in a single day, but she's usually less upset about his failures than she is at the moment.

"I had no idea she had clashed with the Scarlet Witch, nor that she had died, for that matter," Clea says, half-muttering to herself. "Stephen, in your training, had you never heard of the Beloved of Death? By the demons and their kin, you should have heard of the Beloved of Death, if not the Mistress of the Darkhold or the Witch-Killer. Agatha Harkness is notorious in several universes. One of her variants became a Celestial and then ate Arishem the Judge. And that one isn't the thrice-damned Beloved of Death."

The way that Clea keeps repeating the words "the Beloved of Death" makes Stephen feel like an absolute idiot, especially because that is apparently scarier than becoming a Celestial and then eating another one. Which is shocking to him, because when explaining Celestials to him, Clea had told him "you don't mess with them because they will just squish you like a bug" and somehow another mortal had managed to take down two of them by herself.

"How do you belove Death?" he asks. "We have lots of death gods in my universe. Is this one of those situations?"

Clea laughs right in his face and then glowers at her own laughter. "I would think a man who stole the Infinity Stones, actually creations of the Infinite, would know of Death," she says. "But clearly I was mistaken. When we go back to your dimension tonight, you will need to be prepared, so I'll have to give you the short version. The very short version is you do not fuck with this woman unless you have to, but once you tell me everything about why you're in a fight with Agatha Harkness, I'll explain more."

"We're going back to my universe?" Strange asks. "Tonight?"

"This is more important than the work we're doing," Clea replies. "In case you hadn't figured that out yet, you idiot. Now use this abomination to message Wong and ask him to prepare America Chavez to join us. When we go to meet the Witch-Killer, we go with respect and maybe, maybe you can salvage this with an apology. And if not? We need to be ready to fight."

Episode 6 Reactions

Radio announcement from Stark Industries and the US Government.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Originally played in the greater New York City and Philadelphia media markets, this is an example of the required public service notice of the Westview Fund, established in light of the two witch-related incidents in and around Westview, New Jersey. The male voice actor has been identified as Ralph Bohner, former resident of Westview.]

MAN: Were you in Westview, New Jersey when it was under the Maximoff anomaly? Did you freak out because it was freaky? You may be entitled to compensation. If you or your family remember living through a so-called sitcom reality, experienced the nightmares of Wanda Maximoff, or otherwise were affected by the Maximoff anomaly or Hex, please contact the Westview Fund at our website [REDACTED] or call 1-888-[REDACTED] today.

Jimmy Kimmel Segment, Three Days After the "Turnpike Incident"

KIMMEL: So we found out today that after years of speculation, the Avengers are actually broken up! Officially!

[Audience boos]

KIMMEL: Yeah, it's a real bummer, Earth's Mightiest Heroes are on a permanent break. We found out after some really spicy TikToks and Instagram Lives from the children of Avengers and other hero-adjacent folks, like She-Hulk here.

[Segment cuts to a TikTok from Jennifer Walters, AKA She-Hulk, wearing an i hate u both tank top]

SHE-HULK: Of course the Avengers broke up. Who would be in charge of them now? Everyone major who isn't dead is like, in space or trying to go to space. Thor? In space. My cousin? Sometimes in space and just not the type of guy who leads the Avengers. No offense, cuz. Doctor Strange? Out doing his thing in the multiverse. Captain Marvel? Never even here most of the time because she's, wait for it, in space. There aren't even Avengers to assemble on Earth, let's not pretend there are.

[Walters is casually exercising as she makes the TikTok comment, doing big lunges while lifting weights overhead]

SHE-HULK: Oh, and I'm supposed to say that Doctor Strange's comments that are circulating on social media are not representative of the opinions of the Masters of the Mystic Arts. My client, the current Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, wants to make it very clear that they are investigating the incidents described by the alleged Maximoff twins as well as the validity of the identity claims made in the podcast, and he does not endorse Strange's comments at all.

[Segment cuts back to Jimmy Kimmel]

KIMMEL: There you have it, folks. The Avengers broke up, most of them decided to take a space vacation, and all the wizards are fighting. Sure makes me feel safe the next time aliens or robots come to blow up our planet!

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Despite the current limbo in which VFA finds herself, there has been general US government agreement to continue documenting the Maximoff-Harkness case files, including reaction to Interview with the Witch-Killer and the various conflicts caused by what has been colloquially dubbed "The Turnpike Incident" with the inclusion of two new commenters, one from Stark Industries and another via the FBI.]

[AGENT 1 NOTE: Translation: everyone is furious that Harkness sold all that fancy magic-proof technology to the Wakandans for diplomatic immunity so we're working together even harder, right?

AGENT 2 NOTE: Yup. As the kids say, hoes mad.

AGENT 1 NOTE: We've just given up doing professional comments on the files, haven't we? Also, hey, this also means we've added Jennifer Kale officially and also...Happy? Really?

HH NOTE: Not my idea, but I do what Pepper asks.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Did YOU get anything about the tower meeting, Mr. Happy Hogan? Valentina refuses to talk. She just mutters "subpoena, subpoena, subpoena" any time we talk about the Maximoff-Harkness situation. And sometimes "why can't we arrest ghosts?"

JK NOTE: Leave it to Agatha to create a situation where the idea of arresting a ghost sounds relatively sane. That bitch, I swear to god.

HH NOTE: I am mostly trying to catch up on the wizard side of affairs. As someone who was firmly in the aliens and android side of the big three, this is all insane and I hate it.]

Partial Transcript of the Unreleas ed Episode 7 of IWTWK

[EDITOR'S NOTE: The episode transcript will be abridged as needed, as many of the segments are not particularly germane to the Maximoff-Harkness incidents and the [REDACTED EVENT], especially in light of how this episode failed to be finished.]

(Intro Music: Olivia Rodrigo, "all-american bitch")

BILLY: Hi, this is Billy Maximoff, and today on Interview with the Witch-Killer, I finally got one of Jen Kale's amazing "i hate u both" hoodies. Not gonna lie, love it.

AGATHA: I didn't get one. Nor did I get a "Ghost Hands" t-shirt or mug. Thanks, Jen!

TOMMY: I got a "Team Murder Auntie" hat, which is awesome.

AGATHA: I'm concerned that somehow, we're in a fight with the Avengers. I haven't started anything with the Avengers. The CIA, sure, and of course Doctor Strange for many, many reasons, but I don't think we need a Team Murder Auntie vs. Team Avengers fight, because we're not fighting. I repeat, I am not upset with any Avenger, past or present, who is not Doctor Strange.

TOMMY: If my week of sneaking onto Reddit when I'm not being homeschooled taught me anything, it's that we have apparently caused the Avengers to get into a giant public fight and people are freaking out because the Avengers broke up. The ones who are still alive. Though that's our fault, not yours. We kind of cussed Doctor Strange out and said you killing him would be a slay when you were sulking about all the flashbacks.

AGATHA: I am aware. That's still not the same as being at odds with the Avengers. Which I am not. For the record.

BILLY: You are being strangely low-conflict for you.

AGATHA: I didn't appreciate nearly being arrested due to my own lack of foresight. Detention gets in the way of the mission. Avoiding conflict allows me to focus on teaching you two, working on my own goals, and researching as best as I can with my worthless ghost hands from my big list of questions.

TOMMY: You're not lying about the teaching. When I'm not getting my ass handed to me in math and science by the world's smartest science guys, you're yelling at me about not reading some old shit like Shakespeare.

AGATHA: The Great Gatsby. Your current assignment is The Great Gatsby, written in modern American English, you illiterate teenage smart-ass.

BILLY: I'm actually kind of loving learning Latin and magic from you, which I don't want to admit, but is so true. You know a LOT about magic. Not that it's surprising, but also you really, really know how to get it across. You could run a magic school.

AGATHA: Yes, parents should absolutely trust their children to the Witch-Killer.

TOMMY: Okay, maybe not all parents. But you're pretty good at making boring shit cool.

AGATHA: So what is on your podcast agenda today besides making Jen money you'll never see?

BILLY: I was thinking, given we ARE in a fight with the sorcerers and I know next to nothing about them except that Doctor Strange sucks, you could tell us about your history with them.

AGATHA: Awww, you're gonna poke the bear? I'm so proud.

BILLY: You keep mentioning large robberies and Rasputin so I bet the stories are fun.

TOMMY: He's trying to get out of his Latin homework because he was texting with his friend instead of doing it.

AGATHA: Tommy. No. Snitches get stitches.

BILLY: And with that bit of wisdom, we're going to take a break and maybe try to trigger a flashback.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: With the conscious triggering of experiential flashbacks, the flow of the podcast has adjusted. They are rarely chronological, as in previous episodes. They have been labeled as best they can be from archives and existing information, but dates and even locations are sometimes guesses.]

Early 1990s. Kamar-Taj Fortress. Nepal.

It was quite pleasant to arrive clearly stronger than the Sorcerer Supreme and her lackeys. Agatha had sent the acolytes running with her bombastic landing inside the fortress walls. They had taken one look at Agatha arriving in broad daylight to their sanctum in her preferred gown and powered up, running directly for their leader. Even the Ancient One had been disturbed, taking one look at Agatha's disfigured hands and sighing mildly.

"So you have finally acquired the Darkhold, Mistress Harkness," she said. "Where did you find it?"

"That's for me to know and you to stew about, babes," Agatha retorted. "But it was most certainly not where you'd have thought."

"Even for your hardened soul and your rather unnatural abilities, it will be dangerous," the Ancient One said, shaking her head. The woman just didn't get mad at Agatha, which made Agatha want to annoy her all the more. "What have you learned so far?"

Agatha had laughed, sitting down across from the sorceress and putting her sandal-shod feet on the table. "What will you give me for the knowledge?" she asked.

"That depends on if you've learned anything worth knowing, my dear," the Ancient One said. "Since you have not torn reality apart for your son, nor brought him back to life as some eldritch horror, I assume you are being patient and that you paid attention to what the Book of the Damned can do to the unprepared or the desperate."

"I've researched the damned thing for nearly two hundred years, thanks," Agatha said. "Recent events made it more important for me to acquire it, so I did."

The Ancient One, by virtue of being very old, fairly wise, and completely unbothered by Agatha Harkness' tendency to be a taunting asshole, was aware of most of Agatha's personal business, including some of the salacious details. 

"You used it to hide from your beloved," she said, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"I slipped," Agatha said with a groan, sinking further down in her chair. "Ran into her in New York a couple years back and I was weak. It had been centuries since we'd spent more than half an hour near each other, as you well know."

"You've seen each other regularly, given the number of bodies you've laid at her feet," the Ancient One said. "So I assume when you say you were weak, you let her back into your bed and said foolish things."

Agatha rolled her eyes but half-smiled ruefully. "What was it I told you when I came back from the Rasputin mission? I remember it was equally foolish and sentimental. I also remember how much I stole afterwards."

The Ancient One nodded, her face oddly compassionate. She and Agatha were friendly adversaries of long standing. They had tried to kill each other half a dozen times each in the past two centuries they had known of the other. The Ancient One had even left Kamar-Taj to try once, after one of Agatha's particularly dangerous incidents that had set the city of Chicago ablaze in 1871. But at the same time, they respected each other's knowledge and patience and had shared more about themselves than they could to others.

"I recall you complained that Grigori appealed to your broken heart and that you found it excessive," the Ancient One murmured. "And I see the issue remains."

"I refuse to die and I'd rather die than give myself to her," Agatha admitted, flushed red with shame. "But now I don't have to worry about it. She can't touch me and neither can you."

The Ancient One snorted. An actual, derisive snort, which few people beside Agatha had ever heard. "Agatha, my God," she said, sounding less like a serene all-knowing sorcerer and more like an old friend. "Did you acquire a copy of the Darkhold because you told your ex you still loved her after a night of sex?"

Agatha's flush deepened as her right hand went directly to her brooch. "You've never been a mother," she said. "You don't understand why I can't do that."

"Do you think he would hate you for it?" the Ancient One asked. "More than the centuries of crime? More than all the death? You think he'd hate you for going back to her? To his other mother?"

"How would a child understand any of that?" Agatha asked, a stormy expression crossing her face. "And she is not his mother. When she made her choice, when she would have taken our son before he was even born, he became mine alone."

"Much like his mother before him," the Ancient One said quietly. "But of course we will not discuss that. But I doubt the boy would hate you for this, Agatha."

"He would not," Agatha said, tears rolling down her face. "I would hate myself. Giving myself to the thing that took my child from me would make me beneath contempt."

"He died , Aga..." and before the Ancient One could finish her words, she was hit by a blast of Agatha's Darkhold-enhanced strength and went flying across the room in a clear warning shot.

"We have said," Agatha said, standing up and glaring at her long-standing companion, "That there are things that will not be mentioned between us. That is among them."

"I know," the Ancient One said, standing up and dusting herself off. "I apologize. So what have you learned?"

The witch and the sorceress stared at each other for a minute, gazes level as they decided whether or not to go on the offensive. Agatha finally waved her hand, the conflict forgiven if not forgotten.

"It's a trap on levels you can't even imagine," Agatha says with a sigh, sitting back down. "I doubt the thing is a book, honestly. It's a labyrinth to hell made from words is my guess. And it's not good at hiding its intentions to tempt. First thing the damn thing dangled in front of me was that Scarlet Witch prophecy."

The Ancient One raised an eyebrow. "Unsubtle," she muttered.

"It's not exactly anchored in time, either," Agatha agreed. "I'm sure there will be some incident in my future where merely knowing what the Scarlet Witch is will bite me in the ass, but damned if I know why..."

[JK NOTE: The Darkhold set them up? Oh, fuck that, that's terrible. On brand, but terrible.

AGENT 3 NOTE: Wait, slow down and explain. What do you mean, the Darkhold set them up? Who got set up? Set up to do what?

JK NOTE: Agatha says it herself. The Book of the Damned got the idea of the Scarlet Witch into her scheming murder brain. The Scarlet Witch, a being of spontaneous creation who isn't born, she's forged. Agatha probably spent the next thirty years trying to forge herself into the Scarlet Witch when she wasn't hiding from her ex. Then Wanda fucking Maximoff explodes into Westview and BOOM. Death, destruction, and all sorts of dark magic ensues. I imagine the Darkhold didn't care which one ended up the Scarlet Witch of those two idiots, but man does that explain a lot.]

[TRANSITION MUSIC: Walter Sickert & the Army of Broken Toys, "Goth Beach"]

TOMMY: So we were about to talk mad shit about sorcerers, but then a couple of them broke into our undisclosed location and demanded we talk.

BILLY: Which we agreed to do, but only on the pod.

AGATHA: Between this and Billy deciding to do podcast segments whenever he hasn't done homework, I feel that my lessons as a mentor are being taken to heart.

BILLY: You're such a hater.

AGATHA: Gasp. Never.

WONG: We only agreed to this ridiculous demand if you were willing to speak with us. We are not here to be foils to the banter.

AGATHA: Oh, you're no fun.

TOMMY: Hey, you have turned up the Agatha to eleven. What's up, Auntie?

AGATHA: I don't trust sorcerers and I especially don't trust the Sorcerer Supreme bringing Wanda's most tragic little victim to come talk to you boys. There's an agenda here.

AMERICA: Okay, rude. Also, it wasn't Wong's idea. Doctor Strange asked me to come along and it wasn't even his idea, either! That weird Clea girl said to bring me along.

AGATHA: See? Agenda.

BILLY: Who's Clea and what did you steal from her, Agatha? Did you two hook up?

AGATHA: The Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension, a priceless scroll concerning demon-kin of the Dark Dimension and she's not my type.

TOMMY: Every time.

WONG: The Ancient One had an entire section of mystical artifacts and knowledge lost to this witch. She labeled each spot of our missing knowledge so that we would know never to trust the overtures of Agatha Harkness.

AGATHA: Oh, please. She only did that after I got the Darkhold. It was so petty. Half of those artifacts were payment for the many times I assassinated people for her. 

WONG: She also included multiple warnings to ignore your taunting in her personal files on you, which were quite thorough and clearly never referenced by Stephen.

BILLY: Did The Ancient One mention that? The taunting?

WONG: Yes, actually. The Ancient One had repeated personal notes reminding herself not to fall to the "cheap jibes of the Beloved of Death, as they will not only lead to significant danger, but they will also amuse her deeply."

TOMMY: Why are you SO happy about that, Agatha? Are you actually bouncing?

AGATHA: For two hundred years, I have wondered if I ever made that woman react. Do you know how hard I worked to get under her skin? I thought I failed and now I've learned that she had to write herself notes about not being mad.

AMERICA: Oh, now I understand why you said 'every time.' It's like having a chaos demon in charge of you.

AGATHA: Call me a demon again and I'll solo you with my ghost hands.

BILLY: Wow, aggressive. Nobody meant it literally, Agatha.

AGATHA: I am not a demon. I never want that implied, figuratively or literally. Ever.

TOMMY: Wait. Wait. The beloved of WHO? Did Wong just rat out who your ex is?

AMERICA: Oh, yeah he did say the Beloved of Death. Wait...what?

BILLY: It sounds epic, but it's actually all lesbian drama and genuine tragedy. Also, yes, Agatha, we're taking it to break, I see you.

[AGENT 1 NOTE: JENNIFER KALE.

JK NOTE: Jimmy, it was a nightmare. I had to watch this extremely hot witch crawl out of a grave and immediately start trying to get on top of her ex in front of us. It was the most lesbian thing possible. We're talking Kristen Stewart in a tank top with a carabiner at an Indigo Girls concert reading Carol.

VFA NOTE: You know what? If you're in the greater New York area, you and I need to grab drinks, Kale.

JK NOTE: I can be there. I've never seen Avengers Tower from the inside and I do love to hate on Agatha and score a free drink or three.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Leaving aside the absolute verbal roast Jen just doled out, is anyone else concerned about the sucker punch to reality we all had tossed to us? Death can be in a body? Death fell in love?

JK NOTE: Death is...was, who knows, I wasn't at that party... fucking whipped , Darcy.

AGENT 2 NOTE: What a terrible day to have eyes and ears.]

[TRANSITION MUSIC: "The Liminal" by Chelsea Wolfe ]

BILLY: So we explained "our deal", as Cassie Lang calls it, to our guests. By the way, our guests today are Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, and his student, America Chavez, who it turns out Wanda tried to kidnap and drain like a juice box to go to the alternate dimension where we existed and she didn't have powers. Whoo, Wanda.

AMERICA: I learned a lot about why Wanda lost her mind and decided to go on her multiverse rampage. It was really, really sad.

TOMMY: They also explained their deal to us. I learned a lot about how Wanda died from other peoples' perspectives. It was disturbing.

AGATHA: I knew all the deals, but it was nice for everyone to air them and figure some things out instead of making a big verbal production out of my life and choices.

TOMMY: Oh, I'm going to make a big verbal production out of it later, don't worry.

AMERICA: I have learned a lot about some of the less-savory history of sorcery.

WONG: As have I.

AGATHA: It's a real bitch when you discover everything's more complicated than you thought, right?

WONG: You are being strangely conciliatory.

BILLY: Yeah, what's going on? Don't just say you're trying to avoid a fight because that's NEVER been you in my entire experience with you.

AGATHA: Strange things are afoot at the undisclosed location. 

TOMMY: Is that from another old-ass show?

AGATHA: I will strangle you, hellspawn.

TOMMY: No you won't, because you love me.

AMERICA: I want to know about some of the assassinations you used to do for the Masters of the Mystic Arts.

BILLY: I would particularly like to hear about the Rasputin job because you claimed that was the last time you worked for them officially. And because it has come up a few times in conversation, including in flashbacks.

WONG: I am also very interested because I had no idea The Ancient One was behind the assassination of Rasputin, or that he was actually a sorcerer.

AGATHA: You should have, but I suppose The Ancient One enjoyed her facade as a good girl and went to some lengths to protect it. I prefer to be bad and look bad, so I never got her obsession with hiding her more ruthless behavior. 

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Another experiential cut here, even though there were about five minutes left in this conversation on the podcast before the unexpected end of the episode.]

December 1916. Yusupov Palace, Saint Petersburg.

Agatha is no stranger to elaborate scams, but this assassination is really too much. The Ancient One had discreetly paid to establish Agatha as Maria, Lady Connelly, an English comic opera singer. She had spent six months playing the part to make sure Grigori Yefimovich didn't suspect Agatha as a witch or as an assassin, all the while working with the men The Ancient One had encouraged to murder the disgraced sorcerer working his trade in Petrograd.

Tonight is the night, and Agatha is remarkably overdressed for her work. She gazes down at her fingers and the gems adorning them. A diamond the size of a pea glitters on her pinky finger, and the others sparkle with amethysts and rubies, Lady Connelly making it very clear that those are the gems she likes best. Her gown is exquisite. It's sewn from an unearthly bright white satin that practically glows against her skin, hand-embroidered (by Agatha, who doesn't trust anyone else with protection spells) with runes and flowers in violet and silver. When she traveled to Yusupov Palace, she wore furs. On her neck is an enormous amethyst the size of two of Agatha's knuckles, hung upon a chain dripping with diamonds.

Some grand duke or prince or other had given it to Agatha. She can't keep them straight in her head. Russian nobility adores Maria Connelly and her scandalous backstory, and because her spoken Russian is deplorable, she speaks French and charms them with her old-fashioned accent and wide-eyed faux naivete about why she is so popular among them.

It's not the singing, that's for sure. Most of those men are certain they have paid for Lady Connelly's favors, rather than a night spent rutting against a bed in Agatha's guest room while Agatha reads a novel and plays cards with the servants. One or two has sparked her temper by getting handsy first, but those ones get memories of embarrassing shortcomings in the bedroom instead. Those ones pay more so that she doesn't share those shortcomings, too.

Anyhow, Agatha has a plan. An hour or two of the conspirators trying to act like assassins during their house party with their target, then Agatha knocks them all out and does the dirty work for them. She suspects the Grand Duke and the Prince really don't believe it's possible that a mere woman could kill a sorcerer like Rasputin, despite Agatha being the one to create the whole damned plot. The dress is likely going to be a loss, but it might further titillate the nobility to know that Grigori was so hard to kill that he murdered poor Lady Connelly before he went down.

It goes like a charm, except that Rasputin avoids the sleeping spell Agatha casts on the party when it's go time. Instead the sorcerous bastard stands there, looking shocked, when Lady Connelly finishes her little song number and everyone falls asleep. Then he looks at her again, and recognition dawns on his face.

"Ah, I understand now. The Ancient One sent you," Grigori says, looking at the mortals slumped on the ground and Agatha, still glittering like a star. "I didn't realize I would rate the Witch Killer herself."

Well, her cover's blown, but the bindings are holding and Grigori clearly doesn't have access to his sorcery, so Agatha shrugs at the man and then sits down on one of the fancy chaise lounges. She gestures at Grigori to take a seat and he does, his body language annoyingly serene.

"You annoyed one too many people who like to play good guy," Agatha says. "How's the wine? I imagine these rich idiots poisoned it like they did the cakes."

"Passable," Grigori replies, handing Agatha a princess's glass of champagne and ignoring the poisoned Madeira. "You maintained cover admirably, Miss Harkness. Everyone has heard of Lady Connelly and her scandalous reputation, but I had no idea it was you . The tsarina is quite unhappy about your antics. She says the nobility has corroded their morals, passing you about like a toy."

Agatha laughs, downs the champagne, and sets it on a side table. "They only think they have," she says, shaking her head. "It's easy. I put on a dressing gown, I sing, I let the dressing gown drop a little, I smile and then they fall asleep, dreaming of the best sex of their lives. It's almost too easy to charm jewelry off these bastards."

"Ah, there's the infamous Harkness disdain for the rich and powerful," Grigori says. "The Ancient One has a very long monograph about you. She considers you nearly her equal, an absolute library of magical knowledge, and by far the most dangerous witch on Earth."

Smiling broadly, Agatha makes a do go on gesture, winking at her prey. "I am, of course," she allows. "What else did the Ancient One say about me? I love hearing about my wicked reputation."

Grigori's deep, dark eyes, set so deeply in his head, regard his eventual murderer with a calmness that is really starting to upset Agatha. How dare this renegade sorcerer behave as though he was having a friendly chat with the Witch Killer? They really should be at the part of the evening where her future victim begged for his pathetic life.

"I was thinking that perhaps, she is not as perceptive as she thinks," the man finally says. Agatha remembers from The Ancient One's dossier that Grigori is something of a mind-reader, or as her current employer puts it a man who is more of an alienist than any living alienist could be. His tendency is to get under your skin with a pretense of truth and then use it to sway you to his way of thinking, both with words and sorcery. Fortunately for Agatha, people don't get into her head and Grigori's magic is no good here, thanks to the runes she had the prince paint for her. "She accurately sees that you are above all, an actress and a thief, but she does not look beneath your surface, despite knowing all too well that you are also the Beloved of Death."

Agatha rolls her eyes. "I haven't been that since 1750," she says, looking at the poisoned wine and wondering if it will be worth the hangover and side effects to get good and drunk. "One silly pet name and your reputation is wrecked forever. I wonder what they'll do to yours, once I've finished with you."

She pulls out the small revolver she had hidden in her pocket and sets it on her lap. Grigori stares at Agatha, his supposed gift for seeing into people's hearts focused solely on her. Agatha smirks and stretches out, shaking her head.

"Ah," Grigori says, "You have constrained my magic. I suppose I couldn't get past the wards on your mind anyway. The Ancient One used to complain about them. But I don't really want to talk about her and her vengeance. You, on the other hand. You are a fascinating creature. The Infinite are more mythical than gods and you wave your hand and say bah, to hell with Death, as if it was nothing."

"I wish it worked that way," Agatha says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "She's really very bothersome in her devotion. She wants to talk. She wants to beg forgiveness, though really what that means is that she wants to justify herself and her unwillingness to do anything when it mattered. Anyway, enough chatter. We can do this easy or hard, however you prefer."

"You must have been young when Death claimed your heart, Miss Harkness," Grigori says, ignoring that Agatha is tired of his talking. "If the records are correct, you were not even twenty when you killed your coven instead of dying ignominiously for being a bad little witch. What strikes me about you is how childish you can be. You are very pleased with yourself right now, all cruelty and independence and vulgar flourishes - but I saw the look in your eye when I mentioned her."

Agatha zaps him with her purple and Grigori yelps, calming the frantic feeling Agatha feels bubbling in her chest. She hates when victims try to analyze her.

"Oh, are we really going to play Herr Doktor Freud now?" Agatha asks. "Boring."

Grigori guffaws and waves a finger at Agatha. "Oh, if I were to play Freud, I would tell you that you are very like the tsarina. She too despises herself for failing her son," he says. "Don't worry. You are much prettier and wittier than Her Imperial Highness. But she too adores her son and she agonizes because she wishes that her entire life was not about him. And the tsarina is not nearly as much in love with the tsar as you are with your lady."

The color has drained from Agatha's face. "Enough," she says, feeling the rage boiling from her stomach. "I told you, I didn't want to hear psychoanalytic nonsense. So I am unhappy because my child is dead and my great love is not. I suppose next you'll tell me I'm a great big invert because my mother was a hateful bitch who tried to kill me and I never knew my father, not that witches have fathers. Alas for me, that rather than try to find healing with witch-kin who were not like my terrible mother, I fell in love with Death and fully gave in to my death drive. It has made me a killer and a monster and also an insatiable tom."

Grigori raises his thick, dark eyebrows. "So you have spoken to an alienist or two," he says mildly. "I wonder, actually, why you blacken your own name so. There is more to you than your monstrosity. Your work in understanding magic is so foundational that even the Ancient One has looked to you for knowledge. You have slaughtered many witches, true...but many of them were just as wicked as you. More so. Even the Ancient One noticed that you have a tendency to eat the worst of us first."

"No I don't, she just doesn't know how many witches I've killed," Agatha says with a laugh. "Besides, it's obvious why I do it. Power, wealth, and a reputation as the worst of the worst. Who wants to go after Agatha Harkness? She's a half-mad monster. Go against her and she'll end you."

The man has the unmitigated gall to laugh. "Now I understand," he says. "Agatha Harkness is another part you play. Perhaps near to the real woman, but just far enough to keep yourself safe."

The bare-faced cheek. The audacity. No wonder the Ancient One wanted this man dead. Agatha stood up, using her magic to restrain the sorcerer as she aimed the revolver. She was so angry that she'd gone cold. Her hand didn't even shake.

"To be clear, I do not agree with the alienist," he says, smirking at her. "You love Death because you love death and you always have. You love women because you do. When you walked at her side, I imagine she found it absolutely irresistible, to be adored by someone who understood, who wanted her because of her nature instead of in spite of it. And it was the same for you."

Agatha inhales and exhales mechanically. The Ancient One had warned her about this man and Agatha had let him talk and talk and talk at her. And now she wants to run and scream at the top of her lungs, she feels so exposed.

And so, refusing to let him rattle her, Agatha places the revolver against his forehead, half-blinded by her traitor tears. He presses into it.

"I was more romantic then," Agatha says with a little sigh. "I thought it was beautiful to be loved by Death. It was not."

Her finger squeezes the trigger and the sound of the shot, done at such close range, is deafening. Blood and brain and bone spatter against Agatha's face as the mad monk tumbles to the ground. Two more shots follow - one to the heart, and the other to the gut. She kneels, letting the blood and gore soak into the white satin as she looks over the body and makes sure the man is actually dead.

Agatha looks at his dead face. She wipes his blood from her face with her glove, and then stands up and with deliberate violence, cuts the dress from her body, letting it fall to the ground, and then her boots. Then, without stopping, she stalks to her guest room, picks up her furs, and flies to Kamar-Taj for her payment, her blood-streaked face proof enough.

[HH NOTE: Wait, Agatha Harkness killed the real Rasputin on the say-so of The Ancient One and that's how the podcast file on Billy's phone ends?

AGENT 1 NOTE: That's all we got before that TikTok that sent Jen and Yelena racing up to Somerville, right?

JK NOTE: That's all we got before everything went batshit fucking insane , for sure. One minute, we're in an international incident stalemate, the next, Billy can overpower three sorcerers on his own and is freaking out asking for backup.

AGENT 3 NOTE: I still don't like it. 

AGENT 1 NOTE: Despite the reams of intelligence about the [REDACTED EVENT] and the testimony of people at the consulate?

JK NOTE: You can't trust any testimony that close to that many [REDACTED]. Add in the whole opening a gate to a whole different dimension or existential plain and nobody's seen anything real about the incidents.

AGENT 2 NOTE: I keep thinking about something Yelena said. When you're looking at Agatha, you don't see anything else. And you know what I'm thinking?

AGENT 3 NOTE: Like mother, like son.

AGENT 2 NOTE: Bingo.]

[EDITOR'S NOTE: As mentioned in the international "superhero intelligence" notes on the MAXIMOFF-HARKNESS INCIDENTS, after the Rasputin experiential, the audio files, including the magical additions, abruptly end for the unreleased episode 7. However, Billy Maximoff did release the following TikTok very near the initial time-stamp of the episode, which led to widespread awareness of [REDACTED EVENT].]

TikTok Video by Billy Maximoff

(originally found on wiccanboi.08's TikTok, hashtagged IwtWK, i hate me both?, WitchTok, HELP PLS, and approximately 15 other popular tags)

[A young man, identified as Billy Kaplan/Maximoff, is standing in a ruined laboratory. He's crying, with his clothing torn up and dirt and blood smeared on his face. Several people are sitting immobilized at a table with blue-colored magic. Others lay on the ground.]

BILLY: Tommy's hurt and I really need some help here. Jen? Kate? Ms. Marvel? Anyone? If anyone can help me...Strange and that woman just came in out of nowhere, I don't know if they were under mind-control or something....it all happened so fast! And I've got it under control but I don't know how long I can do this. Especially because that's not all that's going on right now...

[Billy pans his phone around, to show a large ball of magical energy that is purple and red]

BILLY: Looks like my mom and my aunt are finally going to talk.

Chapter Text

30 Minutes After Billy Opened A Portal to Limbo

Between Life and Death

These are the woods between life and death. Or is it the forest around Mount Wundagore? In any case, these woods grow unique trees with ghostly white branches, spotted with strange black fungus and leaves that turn purple and brown before dropping to the ground. Many of the trees are already falling to the peculiar rot Chthon's presence tends to draw from the soil, as well as the microbial networks that make the ground glow on full moon nights, particularly certain types of full moons.

Above, the stars are unusually bright as the moonlight illuminates a path that is a sickly blue-gray. The chitters of the bats and wildlife that thrive in the woods provide a hint of a soundtrack as a scavenger - maybe a vulture - croaks angrily before making the stomach-wrenching sound of tearing into entrails.

You have both been here before. Mount Wundagore. The woods between life and death. In your old lives, it might have been interesting to compare what you saw in the in-between, but you suppose that being crushed by a ton of rock doesn't lead to very interesting death-to-almost-life visions. Instead, you look down at what you're wearing and burst into a hearty bout of laughter.

You're barefoot, and the skirts of your gown are a deep, lustrous violet, covered with a little white apron. The skirts are far too short for a grown woman of the time period - they drop to just beneath the knee, and you're fairly certain this is a circle skirt turned into a peasant girl dress. Like a Renaissance Faire reproduction or some inane bullshit. Somehow, your chemise-slash-blouse is a stunning off-white, pushing up your still fantastic breasts due to the black corset bodice that you're wearing. One one arm, you're carrying an honest-to-fuck picnic basket . Your hair is in the best shape it's been in centuries, long, lustrous, a deep brown, held back with a violet ribbon.

As you hum to yourself, you recognize the song.

"Once Upon a Dream? Wanda, you tedious, derivative pain in my ass," you complain, because even though this was mostly your idea, you're not about to avoid an opportunity to sound superior. Especially not when you're dressed as Briar Rose from the animated Sleeping Beauty , of all the inappropriate dreamcasts. It's an obsession with you.

The entire wood is based on a memory you have from when She took you about the most cursed places in Europe, at your request. She didn't actually want to bring you near Wundagore or Chthon's cult, because She knew it would lead you to get obsessed and when you're obsessed, you tend to make mistakes.

"I don't share," Mistress Death had said, shaking a fond finger at you. Do you even know how strange it is that Death adores you and your murderous tendencies and your arrogant, vain personality? To quote the kids, she was down bad. "And I know what lies in wait in that temple. It will want you, my beloved."

Now, you suspect you know what had lain in wait. The Darkhold, the Scarlet Witch prophecy. It could have been a little different. But instead of defying your beloved - because you absolutely fucking loved Death with all your rotten little heart, you annoying bitch - you allowed yourself to be tempted by another cursed artifact, another night spent fucking in the most creative ways possible. You two were always creative. Once you spent a whole night using a knife to find every spot on her body that would make her scream. You used to lick blood and tears from her throat and hope She would return the favor, because you are a very wicked witch who until very recently could not die and found pain to be one hell of a turn-on.

But as you walk along the forest path, you follow the swell of the Lana Del Rey cover of "Once Upon a Dream" and the almost-audible lyrics, because this is the story, and you know better than to break a story when it's in the middle of its telling. You kept up the facade on the Witches' Road that Billy had created because you knew good and damn well that otherwise, you'd have ended up buried alive or stuck somewhere worse because you do not wake sixteen-year-old chaos magicians from their delusions out of nowhere or you end up in a worse predicament. It's just so fucking Goth kid.

I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...and I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem...but if I know you, I know what you'll do, you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream...

And suddenly you find yourself out of the deep, dismal trees and fungi and in a clearing with a flat stone in its center. You sigh, because despite being a professional actress who admitted to the entire Internet that you loved doing musical comedy and that you created a whole scam based on making people sing to death, you think the lyrics are too on-the-nose and dramatic.

"Oh, princess," you say, looking at what sits in the middle of the flat stone in a red cape. "This cannot be how it happens."

I lift my head to look at you for the first time since I left you in Westview as a pliable puppet who couldn't hurt anyone. It was the first time I'd done anything conscious since I was crushed by an entire mountain, actually. 

You look at me and shake your devious little head. 

How was I supposed to know I'd gotten it so wrong, Agatha? You didn't bother to explain that you were a succubus, that the nature of your magic is to take. I took your magic, but just by virtue of who you are, you could still take mine, just a spark. You fed on me the entire time, enough to live, enough to sustain the spell that I wrapped around you like a blanket. Like a smothering blanket meant to stamp out the mean blue sparkle in your eyes as you told me I didn't deserve my magic, that I didn't deserve my life, you hateful bitch.

I may have overreacted. And I didn't actually want you to die, Agatha. You're a monster, but you'd been my friend as Agnes, my best friend, and even when you walked through my mind to figure me out, you were kinder than any sorcerer tried to be afterward. I was going to come back, but things got messy.

You look at me, arms folded, tapping your pretty bare foot. I wonder if you have a body because we're in the in-between, the place between life and death, or if because I like you having a body. We're both attractive in our own unique ways, though now that I went smash and crash, I doubt the corpse was much to look at. Yours fell like a painting, like a work of art, and Death herself wept to see what a fool you had made of her with your beauty and your unexpected moment of being more than you usually try to be. Of course you died romantically and left a beautiful corpse, you dramatic brat.

"I know you," I say and my voice sounds distorted, sounds like it's coming from a static-filled speaker just offscreen.

"Of course you know me, Wanda," you say, glaring at me. "You've been watching me for years, sending all your fun little murder dreams, keeping an eye on big, bad Agatha, isn't that right?"

The silence is long. Given that we are in a place where space and time don't exactly matter, it could be a whole Jeremy Bearimy, but it's probably just a minute or two. You keep looking at me under those long lashes, your eyes narrow and thoughtful. I don't know what you want from me. I'm dead, and whatever part of me is not one hundred percent dead is chained to you. As you are also dead, it seems like the best course of action is to let it go and just handle the limitations of being dead, but you don't give up.

"Why did you tell me how to beat you?" I finally ask. That's the thing that doesn't make sense. Why tell me any of it? Taunting me about runes, figuring out what I was. I know you needed me to hit you with my power to take it, but you already knew how to get me to do that. It would have taken thirty seconds. I've seen how good you are at getting witches angry and you'd taken my boys. I would have gladly hit you with my power. "Why are you coming for me now?"

You have my boys again. As much as your fucked-up head and soul can love, you love them, which means something to me. They're attached to you. They listen to you, care about you, plot with you. Billy isn't even sure he wants me to be his mother. He has barely stopped hating me. Tommy is fascinated by the idea of having the Scarlet Witch as his mother, but he decided the most important family he had was his twin and his real mother, the one who came for him when she was dead and loved him. Billy acts as though he sees the monster, but he wants to fix you so badly, Agatha. I don't think you understand how very little this rescue mission matters to them. If you told them I was dead and unreachable, perhaps they would have mourned, but I think they would have...

"Stop, Wanda," you say, looking at me and rolling your eyes. "We aren't doing it this way. All that power and witchcraft and emotion is stuck in whatever long-winded internal monologue you're thinking at me. I can't help either of us when you're looking at me with those big sad baby eyes and wondering if Billy and Tommy will ever wuv you when they have Mean Ol' Auntie Ags to act in loco parentis ."

"Then how do we do this , Agatha Harkness?" I ask because of course you have notes for me. You smile, the plan clear on your face.

"Dueling realities at dawn," you say, and suddenly the rules of the game have shifted. At last, you have a bit of the power I've always had, the thing you've wanted since you saw me create a whole new world in Westview, because that's the rules here. "This is not how it happens. New reality. Go."

??? After Billy Opened a Portal to Limbo

Magical Girls Maximova

FADE IN on Agnieszska "Aggie" Maximova, about 40 years old. She wears teacher glasses, a long blue coat, a white blouse, purple pants, and has her long wavy hair in a bun atop her head.

Aggie waves her right hand over a potion contained in a bottle, humming as she casts. The potion turns from red to purple.

"Scratchy, I think I'm making progress on the resurrection spell!" Aggie calls to her familiar, a plump rabbit sitting in the old armchair in the Maximova attic. The bunny squeaks happily. "I know, it's amazing, isn't it?"

Scratch squeaks again, and then the purple potion bottle poofs, spraying potion all over Aggie as her agile, rapidly moving face goes from a smile to a scowl.

"Well, this day couldn't get worse," Aggie says, looking at her ruined coat. "Why do bad things always happen to this coat? I love this coat. Abluite!"

The coat cleans itself and then Aggie looks down at her phone. There's a single text.

Wanda (Skull emoji, broken heart emoji, knife emoji)

I'm coming home today. We need to talk.

If steam could rise off Aggie's head, it would.

CUT TO theme song: "Lethal Woman" by Dove Cameron

The Maximova home of Westview, New Jersey had been in the family for generations, passed down from mother to daughter and in some cases, from grandmother to granddaughter. It's a beautiful house, large and spacious. Aggie spends most of her free time fixing it up, when she isn't working on the resurrection spell.

And now, framed in the elaborate wood of the Victorian mahogany door frame is all that remains of Aggie's family, ever since the twins disappeared. Her best friend, once upon a time. Her worst enemy.

Her little sister, Wanda.

"Hi, Aggie," Wanda says, one hand in her pocket. The other one is definitely not giving a high five. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

If Aggie was a violent person, she would choke her sister. The absolute nerve, opening with a line like "it's been a while." Wanda knows good and damn well why it's been a while, why the only Maximovas left are Aggie and Wanda. Wanda was the one who left Westview and the twins behind for Aggie to take care of. Wanda had been the one to break Aggie's heart and leave her here with the most basic of magic, trying to craft something as near-impossible as a resurrection spell. Wanda was the one who'd stole Aggie's Book of Shadows, deciding that Aggie hadn't deserved it.

"Hi, Wanda," Aggie says, putting her hand on her hip and thinking go away, bitch with all her might. "Guess you came crawling back at last."

Wanda Maximova throws her large green duffel bag into the front hallway. Another one sits next to Wanda on the stoop. She glares at her older sister. "You're the one who told me it was inevitable, sis, " Wanda says, storming into the Maximova house. Aggie notices that Wanda leaves the other bag on the stoop for her to bring in, as well as leaving the door open. Spoiled brat.

"So here I am, back at the place where it all started," Wanda says, gesturing around. "You look thrilled."

Somehow, it's always Aggie's job to pick up after her little sister's messes, wasn't it? Just like last time, when Wanda had caused a commotion that made the whole town hate her. The commotion that had driven Wanda away, leaving the boys behind.

How had she caused the commotion again? Aggie thinks about it, not quite sure. It had been loud. They had been arguing about something, about magic, because Wanda and Aggie always fought about magic. Aggie's a traditionalist, and Wanda, despite being the most powerful witch in generations or maybe ever, can't stand her own magic.

"Oh, I love a good family reunion, sis," Aggie says sarcastically. "What happened? Let me guess, that tech bro you were banging in New York wasn't the one after all. I told you that guy was an illusion. No one's that perfect. Or was it trying to handle my Book of Shadows? Told you that I was the only one who could handle it."

"It's just like you said the last time we talked," Wanda says angrily, walking into the kitchen and sitting down at their mom's table, glaring down at the honey-colored wood. "I'm a screw up. Vis is gone, I lost my job, I had a huge blow-up with all my friends in New York and they hate me now. Then I went on this whole stupid bender and I ended up in Eastern Europe, cracked out, and I don't even remember half of what I did. And now you tell me I can't even reach the boys? That they're lost to me?"

Tears start rolling down Wanda's pretty, pale face. Aggie is making tea for them, and her tears always fall easily. When they were younger? When they'd been best friends, Aggie made tea and listened to Wanda for hours. But that was before Wanda had betrayed Aggie and run off, declaring to anyone and everyone who would listen that witchcraft was bullshit. And then leaving the boys behind for Aggie to take care of? That was when Wanda's weepy bullshit stopped being cute in any way.

"I hate to say I told you so, except I so do not," Aggie says, listening to the kettle start to get a head of steam. "What are you drinking, hot shot?"

"Anything that isn't a SoCo and coke," Wanda says.

"What are you, twelve?" Aggie asks with a snappish look on her face. "Oh, wait, no. That's what social services asked me about you when they gave me full custody of the boys."

Wanda's hands clench into fists. "Oh, just shut UP, Aggie," she yells. "You couldn't wait to get the boys from me. You love that they hate me for all my screw-ups. You turned the family against me. You told me I was an unworthy piece of trash and that if you had my magic, you'd show me who was boss. And where are they now? And where are we?"

The tea kettle screams. Aggie slams the mugs down, her temper and her magic up. "You're blaming me for not having the boys now?" she asks, cheeks flushed. "You left me alone and powerless! Maybe I was harsh, maybe I crossed a lot of lines, but you ran away and made it worse! And now I'm the bad guy cuz the boys didn't trust their cracked-out mom? Me? At least I was there!"

Wanda shrieks furiously and shoots a blast of power where Aggie appears to be, but Aggie's not stupid and she and Wanda have fought more than once. Aggie's illusion-self disappears and Aggie has her hands on Wanda's head, forcing her way in. "Give up the secret, you spoiled brat," Aggie snarls.

"Screw you!" Wanda snarls, pushing back with all her magic. "You get out of my head!"

"Give me my power back!" Aggie shrieks, grabbing Wanda's hands and pulling them behind her back. "I can't fix this if you don't let me, Wanda!"

"We can't fix this , Aggie!" Wanda screams. "Dead is dead! You can't bring back the dead!"

"What do you know? You don't know anything about anything! You're the most powerful witch I've ever encountered and you won't even learn the basics!" Aggie screams back, dragging Wanda toward the living room. "If you actually tried instead of being an emo bitch face, if you were willing to work with me , we could do anything we wanted!"

"Oh, here we go again!" Wanda yells sarcastically, sweeping Aggie's leg out from under her. Aggie holds on and they both tumble to the floor. "When have you ever wanted to work with me? When have you been anything except a power-hungry bitch? All you ever do is try to steal everything I have. You wanted to steal my powers, you stole my boys, and now you want to work with me?"

"YES! Of course I do!" Aggie screams, trying to hold Wanda down and sitting on her thighs to keep her from kicking. "You're a horrible pain in the ass, but I am trying to steal us a future because we are sisters in the craft and we BOTH deserve this!"

Before Wanda can respond, there's a loud knocking sound, and then the door just pops open.

Wanda looks at Aggie. Aggie looks at Wanda.

"Hello?" Wanda asks. No answer.

"Who the hell is here?" Aggie asks, letting go of Wanda, standing up, and dusting herself off as she walks to the door.

Two boys stand framed in the doorway of the Maximova family home. One has a mop of curly dark hair and dark brown eyes. The other has mid-brown hair and blue eyes. The dark-eyed boy wears strategically ripped black jeans, a black t-shirt with the words i hate u both written on them in a cursive font, and a dark blue hoodie. His eyeliner is thick and black. His brother wears regular jeans, a green t-shirt, and fancy sneakers, no eyeliner. His smile is huge as he beams at Aggie and Wanda, despite the girl fight going on between the sisters.

Aggie doesn't know the boy beaming at her. She doesn't know his brother. Except - how does she know the boys are brothers?

"What the hell is this, Agatha?" Billy asks.

"Yeah, I can't tell what show this is supposed to be," Tommy agrees. "You guys like old shit, like from the 90s old. Also the name of your show is very anime. Which one of you witches is the anime fan, because we're going to have watch parties later."

Agatha - wait, when did her name become Agatha - gapes at the twins. "What are you doing here?" she asks, hand at her throat, feeling for her brooch. "You should absolutely not be here."

"Long story. Anyway, this isn't how it happens. We don't have the time or the magic to maintain a season-long arc," Billy says, shaking his head at Agatha. "Try again."

??? After Billy Did a Thing? Did Billy Do The Thing?
The W Word

(Theme song fade-in: "Lights Camera Action" by Kylie Minogue)

Karaoke night at Hekate's was always a crush of people and if the coven didn't include Lilia, the bar manager, there was no way the four of them would be able to breeze in, five minutes before showtime. But Lilia was in fact part of the coven, as was Sharon, the sous-chef in the kitchen, and so the coven could breeze in and sit down at their reserved table near the stage.

Sometimes, Wanda thought, it was good to be connected in the community.

"You witches are pushing it," Lilia said, shaking her gray curls at her coven. "There better be a full bottle purchased tonight, ladies, or your sweet little deal is getting renegotiated."

"Billy's already on the list to sing," Wanda said, beaming at the older witch. She pointed at the young witch, who was animatedly chatting with the DJ about his song choice. "He says he's psyched to go all out on 'Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl', even."

"Teen isn't buying a bottle, Wanda Maximoff," Lilia said, giving Wanda a confused half-smile before shaking her head. "You know how old he is."

Wanda snorted and shook her head. "Who knows how old Billy really is?" she asked, flashing the older witch a smile. "One day he's a baby, the next day he's our designated driver."

Billy caught sight of Lilia and ran over, waving and grinning his face off. "I promise to buy a bunch of apps!" he cried to Lilia. "Tell Sharon I want potato skins."

"You know that's not paleo," Alice complained from her chair. "Tell Sharon I want the wings and carrot sticks."

Lilia looked at Alice, an expression of horror on her face. Alice looked at Lilia, and her eyes were wide. Then the two shook their heads and grinned, enjoying the usual in-coven banter.

"Tell your waitress, girls, I have a witch club to manage," Lilia said, waving them away. "A full bottle or you four are gonna be waiting in line like every other witch in town!"

Jen growled, sprawling out in her favorite chair. Her beautiful pink top and white palazzo pants were flawless, as per usual. Wanda wished she knew how Jen always knew how to dress or what spell she was using.

"You dawdling bitches owe me," she said, giving Wanda a dirty look for no reason. "If we have to get a bottle, it better be tequila, and not the cheap rail shit. I'm talking Don Julio or nothing."

"What, do you think I suddenly won the lottery? I can cover a bottle of Cuervo Tradicional, not the fanciest bottle in the place," Alice said, wrinkling her nose at Jen. "Wanda, drinks are on you. Wanda? Hey, Wanda!"

But Wanda's attention was on the karaoke stage, where a leggy brunette in skin-tight black jeans, chunky Docs, lots of necklaces, and a purple velvet blazer over a little nothing of a black crop top was cheerfully blowing kisses to the crowd as she wandered over to the microphone. A couple of women were already whistling, while Jen rolled her eyes and Alice sighed, patting her hand.

"Ah, the witch fuckboy supreme has arrived," Jen said. "Love the blazer on her."

"Yeah, that's serving," Billy agreed, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave Wanda a once-over. Wanda scoffed. "What? Agatha can dress when she wants to, and she serves like Serena Williams."

Wanda sighed, giving her ex-bestie a long, fascinated look. She decided she liked the vibe. It was very Siouxsie-meets-Stevie, and Agatha had sexy-ass hair, wild and messy, and sexier hands. Not that Wanda was looking at Agatha's hands. Or the rings on them. Or the way she gripped the mic stand.

"All right, witches," Agatha announced to her adoring crowd. "I see we have some..."

Her gaze fell on the coven. Just like Alice and Lilia had, Agatha paused when she saw the coven. She blinked, but unlike them, her eyes pricked up with tears as she looked at the women sitting right near the stage, waiting for the show to start. Then her eyes fell on Wanda and her expression went grim.

"OK, sure, what the hell," Agatha said, gesturing ornately with her left hand. "Let's get karaoke night started, okay, Kate?"

Yelena, the blonde emcee for Hekate's, threw Agatha a thumbs-up. An energetic, pop piano started playing, and Agatha turned her intense gaze on Wanda and pointed at her.

"This one goes out to you, little miss sunshine," she snarled, vamping dramatically before immediately going into a performer headspace. Wanda was always amazed at how fast Agatha could do that, just kicking away her own feelings and thoughts, and becoming the role. And apparently, the role was to be the hottest goddamn witch on earth, singing her heart out on a karaoke stage.

"There's nothing for me, here where the world is small," Agatha sang, pulling the mic off the stand and dancing and posing across the stage. "...so turn and face me....turn to the altar of lust..."

Wanda's magic blazed. Her head was muzzy with the need to stare at the other woman, to drink in every provocative gesture, every smirk, every concerned gaze at the coven. And then at the end, the tilt of Agatha's head as she gestured at Wanda and curled a single finger at her in a clear "come here, sweetheart" gesture.

By the time Billy was on stage, absolutely tearing up Chappell Roan as the entire bar sang along, Wanda had Agatha up against the bathroom wall, tongue down her throat, hands bruising her hips.

"Using a compulsion spell to get everyone's eyes on you," Wanda snarled, pulling the blazer open to work on the other woman's collarbone. "You're such a goddamn cheater."

"Didn't have to do that. I'm a natural scene stealer. And you're still trying to get into my pants," Agatha replied. "You fucking love it, Wanda. All your life people told you to hide your talents, that you were a bad, bad girl for having powers and also, could you go mind-control that guy over there? And finally you see someone who fucking gets it..."

"Shut up," Wanda snarled, popping the button on Agatha's pants off. "I'm going to fuck the smug expression off your face, Agatha Harkness."

"Oh, is this how it happens?" Agatha asked, pulling her blazer off. "Do it, then."

She grabbed Wanda's face, the two of them kissing hard and furious and Wanda wanted nothing more than to pull off her own clothes and just give into every last urge pounding through her head.

Two knocks on the bathroom door.

"Fuck off!" Wanda yelled.

"We don't want any!" Agatha agreed.

"See, this is unfair," Jen said, standing in the doorway. Wanda looked up. Why was Jen here? Also, how did Wanda know Jen, anyway? "First of all, way to fake-resurrect a bunch of dead people so you two could hook up. That's not traumatic or anything. Second of all, I object to you two making it a TV-MA lesbian show on my own behalf because I'm the one who had to come yell at you."

"Excuse me, what?" Wanda asked. "Nobody asked you to come yell at us."

"Y'all's sixteen-year-old twins do not need to watch you two going full Shane and Jenny in a bathroom on us," Jen replied. "I expect this from Agatha. Discovering the Scarlet Witch is just as bad? Disappointing."

"Close the door and fuck off, Jen," Agatha said from where she was leaning on the sink.

"Yeah, no," Jen said. "This isn't getting you out of limbo. Try again. Try REAL hard."

??? Portal Still Open, Who Even Knows

It's a little like Waiting for Godot . Limbo, but no features, no anything. Just...almost a blank stage. And the two of them, catching their breath.

"Hi, Wanda," Agatha says. She looks disturbingly normal, given the morning (or part of a Jeremy Bearimy, Wanda's not sure how you define time in one of her realities) the two of them have had chasing each other through dueling realities. "Do you want to make some tea - or coffee, if that's your thing - and maybe talk? The boys - and fucking Jenny Kale - are probably sick of shutting it down."

She laughs then, and then poses and quips, "SHUT IT DOWN" because of course Agatha also watched 30 Rock . Wanda's mouth quirks up into a smile.

"This is why we got along in Westview," Wanda says almost shyly, "You watched all the good shows, too."

It's strange how easily the two of them get along, Wanda thinks. But that was always true. Agatha had waltzed into Westview as Agnes and Wanda had happily picked up a friend, not thinking about how rare that was in Wanda's life. Wanda had connected with several of her fellow Avengers after Pietro died and obviously Vision, but it had taken a lot more work to bond with them. They'd been so uneasy around her and her powers. Agatha never was, and maybe that's because Agatha is a cocky bitch, but Wanda realizes that's one of the reasons she likes Agatha. Agatha doesn't scare easily. She was easy to talk to, even when she was being a wicked witch. Agatha was easy to share her darkest moments with, voluntarily or not, maybe because she actually listened.

Almost as if in response to her thoughts, a boring, normal kitchen table appears, with a couple of chairs and two steaming mugs of each witch's preferred hot beverage. Agatha gratefully sits down, sweeping her long white hair over her shoulder before sniffing her drink curiously and lifting the mug to her lips. Wanda spends a moment too long watching Agatha's mouth before shaking her head to break the spell.

"Everyone's going to blame me for the L Word reality," Agatha says, gesturing at Wanda, who sits down and picks up her mug of coffee, no cream, two sugars, exactly the way she likes it. "If you want, I'll cop to it. Oh, no, naughty Agatha wants to be Sha-ane. She's trying to seduce poor, bewildered Wanda to her wicked ways."

Wanda laughs at the audacity. "I don't need your help to be wicked, Agatha Harkness," she says. "I'm more powerful than you, remember?"

"Who could forget?" Agatha asks, twisting her left hand and smiling at it. Wanda remembers that Agatha has been extremely distressed about losing her hands, far more so than she's let on to the twins. So much of what makes Agatha's true self resides in her hands. Wanda would not have expected that underneath the layers of theatrics, Agatha was a scholar as well as an obsessively focused witch. Agatha's hands are where she makes her will and her mind manifest. Losing them has nagged at her, an itch she can't scratch. "Remember how I told you that power wasn't your problem, it was knowledge? Still applies, pumpkin."

Wanda sighs, taking a long drink of her coffee, before looking at the table and noticing there are pastries now. Agatha is already eating one, tearing into a cherry danish like she hasn't eaten in months. Wanda supposes Agatha hasn't, at that. Neither of them have. An odd feeling in her chest twists again. Wanda has spent so much time inside this woman's head now, their dreams and emotions twining around each other's and finding the uncanny parallels between them.

"You mean like how I had no idea that warping reality around a succubus would connect us in a way that survived death itself?" Wanda asks dryly, picking up a mini croissant and taking a bite. "Or that my sons could survive the collapse of the false reality that created them? Or that you and I have both lost children and fucked up the world because we were grieving?"

"Or that you were incredibly hot for me from day one?" Agatha asks, because it's Agatha and she has to. Wanda has been through enough of the tasteful fade-to-black scenes to know being desired is also a huge part of what makes up Agatha Harkness's strange, wicked psych. How could it not be? 

"Oh, no, I knew that," Wanda says, blushing and laughing. That gets Agatha to raise one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "What? I had everything I wanted in the Hex for a while, which included a best friend who was extremely easy on the eyes and reminded me I didn't have to settle for the first synthezoid to come along and sweep me off my feet."

She takes a long drink of coffee and smirks at Agatha, whose eyes have gone wide with surprise. 

"Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson," Wanda murmurs, giving Agatha one of her own innuendo-laden winks.

"Well, hot damn," Agatha says, her face slightly flushed. Oh, she clearly feels quite wanted in the best way, and it's knocked her off her game. It's clear she's trying to recover her easy composure. "Death has been incredibly good for your communication skills, Wanda."

"It's like you said when you and Billy figured out the flashbacks," Wanda says thoughtfully, flexing her hands around her coffee mug. "Emotions are closer to the surface when you don't have a body to bury them in. I appreciate that you didn't try in Westview. I'm not sure how I would have reacted, then."

Agatha waves her hand, lips puckering slightly. "I'm smarter than that," she says. "Besides, I was too busy with my own little resurrection fantasies to try a seduce and destroy."

Wanda takes a deep breath, because she's seen enough to know an Agatha Harkness seduce and destroy would be something she'd enjoy. Way too much. Maybe later, if they can figure out how to rejoin reality as living beings.

"You should have told me about Nicky," Wanda says, remembering another one of her constant thoughts. "God, I wish we could redo Westview."

"Don't get that idea in your pretty little head," Agatha says, clearly imagining them redoing Westview and the destruction to space-time it would entail. "We're already going to have Death on our asses if we manage to get out of our little predicament. We start messing with time, the rest of the gang comes after us, and I didn't fuck them into submission."

"Rhetorically, Agatha," Wanda says disapprovingly. "Not literally. I'm smarter than that ."

"You sure? Because I have been dealing with the consequences of your 'shoot first' tendencies for years now," Agatha replies blithely. "Rhetorically, I agree. Westview was a lot of missed opportunities. Except I'm not sure we could have fixed it, being who we were then. Like The Ancient One said, I stole the Darkhold because I told my ex I loved her and couldn't deal with it. I wasn't about to tell some bitch I was going to drain like a juice box, 'excuse me, you seem like you're struggling with some soul-destroying grief. Let me tell you about my way of handling it - really theatrical murder!'"

Agatha throws her arms up and does jazz hands as she says this. Wanda can't help it, she chokes on her coffee laughing. 

"Don't DO that," she says. "This is serious!"

"I'm absolutely serious, sunshine," Agatha says. "We were set up to collide at our absolute worst, probably by some dark force. I don't know, I have ghost hands and no bewitched basement full of reference material thanks to you. And collide we did. They got you the Book of the Damned, I got put in time out so I couldn't tell you the Agatha Harkness rules about that goddamn thing OR the Agatha Harkness rule of 'always think first and act later', and then boom. Chaos. Disaster. You deciding to kill yourself along with the book to prevent the multiverse coming apart. Well done, by the way."

Agatha Harkness's mind is a thing of wonder and horror. Wanda starts parsing all of the critical information her (not really so ex-)best friend has told her in a few sentences. They were set up ? Agatha thought that somehow, she could have prevented Wanda from going on a multiverse rampage with the Darkhold with a few rules? Who knew, maybe she could have. Wanda had borrowed from Agatha's playbook liberally when she had hunted America down and deceived everyone about Westview and it had almost worked. And most confusing of all, Agatha thinks Wanda did well by killing herself and destroying the Darkhold?

"What?" is what Wanda's idiot mouth says.

"When the game is rigged, fuck the game," Agatha replies with a wave of her hand. "You didn't want to destroy the universe and do all the shit the Darkhold wanted you to do, right? So you flipped the table and undid the game. As personally inconvenient as that was --" Wanda is going to have to hear about how Agatha's death is sort of her fault forever, isn't she -- "I would have done the same thing. Even though I am, wait for it, a wicked witch who really just wants power, sex, and all the deep knowledge of magic and reality I can steal."

Wanda's quiet for a minute, taking a long drink of her coffee, which is still at the perfect temperature. In Wanda-realities, the coffee never gets too hot or too cold. She'd say it was creepy, but it really isn't. Wanda likes that the coffee is always just right. It's the little things about being able to control reality that are the best.

"What did Tommy say about that?" Wanda finally says. "I can be down with your moral issues."

"Because we're family?" Agatha asks, wiping her eyes discreetly. 

"I'm not sure I'm ready to define what we are," Wanda says. "I saw everything you did for Billy, before you even knew for certain who he was. I heard you help bring Tommy back. I saw you die instead of my son. I watched you come back and guide and protect them both. Maybe you are a bona fide villainess who wants power, magic, sex, and the secrets of the universe at her fingertips..."

Agatha raises her hand, clearly squirming at the idea of Wanda trying to find the good in her. "I am! I really am!" she says, her voice high-pitched and squeaky. "It's only that I care about our boys."

Wanda could be angry - and she was, for a while - about the claim Agatha has put on her sons. At the same time, nobody else even bothered. Agatha decided, at great personal cost to herself, to love the boys and fight for them. She could, at this moment, be fucking Death on several planes, killing more witches, while Wanda's boys and Wanda herself stayed dead and out of her way. Agatha could have been the most powerful witch on the planet again.

Instead, here she is.

"You fought Death for our boys and won," Wanda says, standing up and walking over to where Agatha is sitting, her tea half-drunk and her eyes enormous with anticipation, curiosity, and a little fear. "Even if you're as wicked as you claim, I'd rather have you on my side than fight you."

She leans forward and tilts Agatha's chin up with two fingers. "So what do you say?" Wanda asks. "You and me, working together? Your knowledge, my power, our boys? Screw the Avengers, screw the game."

"I say it's too good to be true," Agatha says, pulling herself back just a little from Wanda. Her body language is a different story. Her head is tilted and her eyes are narrowed. She's interested. She's extremely interested. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Wanda says, shrugging just like Tommy does when he's done with the bullshit. "You were always right, Agatha. I'm not a hero, not like the Captain Americas or even the Doctor Stranges of the world. I want my boys, safe and not doing hero shit for people who were happy to say they weren't real. I want things for myself. I'm tired of sacrificing everything I love for other people who spit on my pain and call me an evil witch."

She leans down and murmurs in Agatha's waiting ear. "And I'm not going to pretend I won't fucking kill anyone who gets in my way anymore," Wanda says. "What do you say, bona fide villainess?"

"I say, come here, princess," Agatha says, pushing her chair back and patting her lap. "We're working with primordial magic, which is both enormously powerful and stupidly easy when it works. I have an idea."

Wanda climbs into Agatha's lap, hoping this is not another tawdry hook-up attempt that'll get them shut down. Agatha is generally smarter than that. Besides if they make this work, they can figure out the tawdry hook-up later. She puts her arms over Agatha's shoulders and looks down at her.

"Ooh, if that definition of what we are ever involves sex, remind me about this visual," Agatha says, eyes crinkling pleasantly as she looks up at Wanda, gently and surprisingly chastely putting her hands on Wanda's back. Then she closes her eyes and starts breathing in and out, calmly and without any sort of sexual undertone.

Once upon a time... Agatha's mental voice clearly announces to Wanda. Once upon a time there was a wicked witch and a lost princess who had gotten trapped together in the woods between life and death.

Wanda's eyes open wide. Another story. Of course a story. What else would it be, between the two of them, except for telling the right story? Magic, channeled through Agatha's stories, had pulled Wanda out of the deep almost-death hibernation she had fallen into after destroying her physical body on Mount Wundagore. And going by Agatha's knowledge of primordial magic - enormously powerful and stupidly easy when it works - it should be possible. It's just the logic of creating bodies, or bringing back bodies that have died, that worries her ever so slightly.

"Are you going to tell me a story?" Wanda asks. "And then it comes true because you, me, and Billy want it to?" 

"Literally what the hell have we been doing for the last few months if not that?" Agatha says. Wanda supposes she has at that. Agatha told a story of the Witches' Road and Billy made it true. But at the time, both of them had bodies. Agatha told all the stories of her life and Wanda and Billy had made them almost real. It's possible, at least. "And that's why it's a three-part spell, princess. I tell the story, you make it come true, and then Billy does what you did and grounds it in reality so we can come home. Now breathe for us, Wanda. And don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

Wanda closes her eyes and breathes in. She breathes out, and suddenly they're no longer in the kitchen, no longer in limbo. They're on the way out.

A Not-So-Secure Wakandan Consulate, Maybe 18 Hours After Opening the Portal

Billy wakes up from uneasy dreams of a witch and a princess lost in the woods stumbling out together, in defiance of Death but in the tradition of mythic heroes since the beginning of time. His eyes hurt, a sharp ache that is bleeding into a headache behind the eyes. It's almost hard to see the cot he's been sleeping on while Agatha and Wanda figure out what the hell they're doing. He rubs his face, trying to release the ache.

On the cot where he demanded he sleep, right next to Billy, Tommy rolls over and grunts, pawing at the air. "Ugh, guys, gross," he mutters. Billy blinks, the neurons starting to fire. Dreams of a witch and a princess lost in the woods. Walking out of the underworld. The witch kissing the princess awake from her dreams and turning to look directly at...

The portal to nowhere real that is somehow incredibly real is glowing. And Billy knows exactly what to do now.

Billy pulls, and the in-between, the woods between life and death, becomes a real place that a powerful witch, a witch like the son of the Scarlet Witch, can pull people out of. He pulls, and the portal between life and death opens right back up. He pulls again, and two women fall to the ground wearing bodies.

It's all a con, he realizes. A bluff. No way can you tell a story and just make it come true like this, not even with primordial magic. If that exists. It probably does, but you never can tell with Agatha.

It's absolutely going to work because the three of them say it can.

Agatha takes a long, shuddering breath from the ground. "And in the end, when they walked out, there were no lost princesses, no wicked witches, no woods to haunt them," she says. Wanda's eyes are still closed tight, Billy realizes. The spell isn't quite over. "It was as Death told her beloved, when Death loved a witch and the witch loved her back. I am as real as you, even if every face I wear is only a story woven around me to bring the dead comfort. It's a dream, a story, a myth. And it is nonetheless true."

Billy's heart pounds as he helps Agatha make it true. Even if the bodies shouldn't be real, they're real now. Because Agatha and Wanda are here, on this plane of existence, and all Billy has to do is close the gate with them on the other side. It's nonetheless true. Find him a place .

"Now open your eyes," Agatha orders, and Wanda Maximoff, the once-and-perhaps-always Scarlet Witch, opens her eyes to see Billy and Tommy standing in front of her. Her mouth falls open as tears fall from her eyes in awe and wonder.

Billy wants to say something to Wanda, but he can't help it. He looks over at Agatha, who grins and winks. Then she makes a shooing gesture, looking at Wanda and giving him an expression that tells him that Wanda needs him now. They can talk about whatever the hell the three of them just managed later.

"Hi," Billy says, as he reaches out and takes Wanda's hands. They're real hands, clammy and trembling. "I'm Billy. I think I'm your son."

Wanda exhales, closes the space between them, and wraps her arms around him. "Thank you," she says in a voice that shudders with relief. "Thank you both."

Chapter Text

A Year and a Day After Wanda Maximoff's Return

Westview, New Jersey

"Today is the day, isn't it?" Charisse asks. She is the family and couples therapist they've been working with for about three months. She remains one of the few people willing to put up with both Maximoff and Harkness bullshit at the same time. "A year and a day after everyone's return from the great beyond, if my notes are correct - for reassessing where your relationships are at, right?"

Charisse is being disingenuous. She knows what today is. The last three sessions have been about today being the day. She knows things are changing for them, and has been very helpfully pointing out that there doesn't just have to be one day and everything changes, simply that they've all agreed to assess their boundaries and relationships today.

Their family therapist isn't exactly a witch, but she is a little bit psychic and has more than a little bit of control over her mind. Wanda could blast down her psychic walls - she's still more than powerful enough - but learning how to stay out of someone's mind has been part of her training, and Wanda has been diligent in following her training as Billy and Agatha had been adamant that there was to be no mind control .

Agatha had been even more adamant in private. "You so much as try to get me to pick chocolate instead of vanilla with your powers, not only do you never, ever get to touch me, I will take the twins and disappear," she'd said with not even a tease of a smile. "And then I will regroup and end you."

Wanda hates to admit it, but a year of being told no by Agatha has been extremely, extremely good for her, especially because in many ways, Agatha has given Wanda free reign to use her magic for all the little things. Coffee doesn't get too hot or too cold in the Maximoff-Harkness household. Ingredients are always topped off when cooking. You never lose the remote. That kind of thing, Agatha doesn't care about. She actually encourages it and laughs when Wanda tells her that the Avengers discouraged the more creative flairs of her magic.

"That's why witches do better near other witches, honey," Agatha had said, before twirling slightly and changing into her favorite old-timey witch costume. "When you all have powers, then it's not alarming when someone uses them."

"This, coming from Ms. No-Coven," Billy had snarked.

"This, coming from Mr. 'Well Actually, I'm in a Coven with Agatha Harkness'," Tommy had snarked back at his brother.

At moments like that, Wanda had felt grateful into the pit of her stomach, with only the faintest hint of regret that Vis couldn't see their boys again. There was the reconstructed Vision, the white one Heyward had created who had the memories from the Hex, but he remained not-quite-Vis. He had been gracious and even joined them minus Agatha at a few therapy sessions, but Wanda had eventually told him it was okay, that it just wasn't the same.

"I understand," he'd said. "I bear some vestigial feelings for what we had, as well, but things have changed significantly and I believe your feelings for your witch companion have progressed quite beyond nostalgic fondness, have they not?"

Wanda blushes. A year and a day. That had been the agreement.

"Which boundaries are you the most interested in negotiating, Billy?" Charisse is asking Wanda's magical heir, the son who remains somewhat mysterious to her. If Tommy's an open book, Billy is both a mirror and a veil.

"I'm not sure, really," Billy admits, twirling a ring around his finger. "I'm really happy with how we're working things out with the Kaplans and I'm super-grateful to Momda for helping me with the spell that restored their memories. I would like to interact more with different types of magic users. I know Mom and Agatha are super-cagey about Masters of the Mystic Arts, but I've liked the meet-ups since the team started doing missions in public."

Hearing Billy use Mom instead of Momda - the name Tommy made up and that Wanda loves when it's coming out of Tommy's mouth, because Tommy, like Pietro, loves to make up goofy little nicknames for the people he cares about the most - makes something in Wanda's heart glow.

"I can't wait to ask America to join the team," Tommy says. "She's so in, but she says Wongers is dubious and obviously Strange is being a dick about it."

"Obviously," Charisse says with barely hidden amusement. "What about you, Agatha? You've been uncharacteristically quiet. The year and a day limit was your original boundary. Are you happy with it? Do you need more time?"

Four pairs of eyes slide over to where Agatha is sitting on the couch, her legs folded under her. She can't sit straight on any surface, always leaning or sprawling or rolled up. Wanda finds it endearing and somewhat sexy.

"It's been illuminating," Agatha says thoughtfully. "I was mostly being a traditionalist smart-ass when I came up with the time frame, but then the Congressional hearings, becoming actually famous and then all the work spinning up the team made it a lot more helpful. Also, I didn't know therapy had gotten better than when I tried it in Vienna back in the day."

"I still can't believe you met Karl Jung and made him do analysis with you," Charisse says with a snort.

"Can't you?" Agatha teases. Wanda is still learning to control her flares of jealousy at Agatha's endless teasing and flirting with every woman after Billy started playing "Take Me or Leave Me" at her to make a point. (Having teenagers instead of ten-year-olds has been a learning experience. Having teenagers partially raised by Agatha, dirtbag criminal masquerading as legendary witch killer, has been an annoying learning experience.)

"I can, but it's outrageous," Charisse says. "Anyhow, I noticed you dodged the question. You've found the boundary you set out of pique illuminating and therapy more helpful than expected. And?"

"And this is not couples, this is family," Agatha parries. She is squirming in her seat, hands twisting compulsively. Wanda knows that means Agatha doesn't want to talk about it and that sends anxious vines through Wanda's whole body. "I am extremely happy with the family structure we've set using the boundary of no sex, no romance, just co-parenting and teaching in the last year and that it was the right choice because I tend to use sex to get out of handling difficult emotions. And I would rather not declare romantic intentions in front of teenagers, no matter how much they're invested."

"You're avoiding," Tommy taunts. "Avoidant Auntie and her aggressive - ow, which one of you witches did the pinching?"

Billy glowers at Tommy, who glares back. Agatha grins and winks at Billy, which soothes Wanda a bit. She then turns to Wanda and mouths the word "Later" at her.

Wanda's eyes widen and she folds her hands into her lap, looking at Charisse and trying not to smile. Charisse does smile and it feels like the whole world is coming together.

Three Months Earlier

SCIF in the US Senate, Washington DC

C-SPAN had to stop covering the Harkness hearings after a senator muttered the words "this bitch, I swear to God" on a live mic as Agatha had colorfully detailed how a witch or sorcerer could have easily provided "the magic bullet" theorized by JFK assassination buffs. Valentina took comfort in the fact that nobody was able to handle the sheer amount of Agatha behavior they were all being subjected to, not even 75-year-old men from Iowa or Kansas or some other state made of cornfields and racists.

Instead, they were confined to a SCIF because Agatha was an appalling threat to national security due to her in-depth knowledge of various ways the American government paid for a little magical assistance now and then. Included in that was the presidential pardon Agatha had finally discovered in her bewitched basement signed by Eisenhower for her help in defeating the Nazis.

"It got me out of a jam for sure," Agatha said cheerfully. "I wasn't actually fighting Nazis so much as helping myself to magical artifacts they didn't deserve and then telling the OSS agent I was screwing at the time where the rest of the cache was. God, I do wonder what happened to Genevieve. She shot me in the gut in 1943 and I had to go cool my heels in Mexico for the rest of the war, but we had a good time together. I hope she didn't get driven out of her profession by misogynists but that's probably the case."

Val uses her somewhat diminished access to verify the story. Genevieve Masters had in fact been an OSS agent who had worked for an Agnes O'Connor in Brooklyn in 1942 and 1943 and she had earned a commendation for "special bravery" that had been useless in keeping her out of the post-war purges of gays in the government. Agnes O'Connor's file had quickly confirmed that Agatha had once again been using a half-ass fake name and running a scam. In this case, it had been an illegal bar and dance club that was apparently also the local gay watering hole.

It also decides for Val the offer she's going to make. It's the last day of hearings, especially now that the pardon has been verified as being real. Senator Valdez mutters something about it being utterly bullshit that a pardon issued in 1953 is still valid for crimes committed in 2026 and 2027, but much like Wanda Maximoff's resurrection, it's a fait accompli. Besides that, Agatha would absolutely turn "oh, I just stole magic artifacts that happened to belong to Nazis" to a one-woman anti-Nazi operation for the media and everyone on this goat rodeo of a committee knows it.

She hands Agatha the manila folder during a break where the senators are off taking a piss and muttering very rude things about women over forty. Agatha puts on her glasses and scans it before starting to laugh.

"Is this seriously an offer to work for the CIA?" Agatha asks, looking at the letter with an eyebrow raised almost to her hairline and a half-smile crooked across her face.

Val shrugs. "Frankly, I'm shocked you haven't gotten more offers, starting with the Wakandans," she says. "You pulled together the teenagers as a side effect of your deranged quest for the Scarlet Witch and they're already coalescing into a team. Billy has real leadership potential and he's got a good bond with Kamala Khan, the other kid I see as a natural, too."

Agatha points a finger and shakes it slightly. "Tommy and Doreen," Agatha says. "Kamala and Billy are very powerful. Great public face for the kids. But Tommy and Doreen are the ones who'll make it cohesive."

"Oh, you hateful bitch," Val says with a shake of her head as she stands up and starts pacing. Her brain is racing. "I knew, of course. Figured out you were setting up your own little team when you took Billy with you to California to meet with Cassie Lang. But why bounce Yelena? She's got more experience than all your kids put together and I thought you'd like the view."

Agatha shakes her head again, leaning back in her chair. Val remembers how they ended up fucking now. First of all, there really is something about the succubus accusations. But really, it's playing against someone smart and ruthless. Someone who wasn't mad that the Turnpike was a set up. Someone who thinks.

If only she wasn't an ancient serial killer with motives that Val distrusts.

"Too cynical, too experienced, and I fucked her mom," Agatha says, tapping her chin. "The Turnpike was sloppy, Valentina. Great for me, though. It got Kate and Kamala firmly onside and brought the Wakandans into my orbit. I had Riri on my radar, but I probably wouldn't have gotten close to her without that blow-up. You didn't plan that, right?"

Valentina blows a frustrated raspberry. "I can double the salary," she says, shaking her head. "You have me worried, Harkness. Jen Kale swore up and down you weren't a world domination type of guy, but you pulled together a key set of assets in less than six months with zero point zero resources and I still can't figure out why ."

Agatha gazes down at the offer letter, tracing it with her left pointer finger. "It's been a weird few years," she says finally, running a finger around the top of her glass. "I haven't lost as bad as I did in Westview since 1756. Hell, I lost so bad that dying was my best option. When you die, lose access to your hands and gifts, and have to depend on the very family that fucked you to get your power and body back, you can judge what it does to YOUR tendencies."

"So now you are a world domination guy?" Val asks with minimal sympathy. After all, the family that had fucked Agatha over wouldn't have done that if Agatha hadn't tried to kill Wanda in the first place.

Agatha makes a face. "Fuck, no," she says. "What would I do with world domination, Valentina?"

"I don't know and that's what scares me," Val says, taking another sip of her drink. "Most so-called supervillains, the guys who want world domination? They wanna get back at daddy or that girl in college who wouldn't fuck them. They want to wreck things instead of going to therapy. Meanwhile, you lose and you decide to bring back the bitch who fucked you over, adopt her kids, and create a team of young heroes. Hell, you're even in therapy."

Agatha snorts and tosses her hair. "I won, Valentina," she says bluntly. "Short of undoing a death that happened hundreds of years ago, what else can I win? I have my boys. The superhero team of the future listens to me. Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, owes me everything . I even managed to break up with my ex. I'm as free and as powerful as I've ever been. I even have groupies."

Valentina salutes Agatha sarcastically, a smile twisting her lips. "Oh, so you have seen those thirsty lesbians begging to be your juice box," she says.

"Oh, one hundred per cent," Agatha says with a grin. "You should see Billy's DMs, they are INAPPROPRIATE."

Valentina shakes her head. "Wanda jealous of them yet?" she asks, half-smiling. "Or are you still demurely fending off any advances so that Wanda can heal or whatever excuse you've got?"

"A year and a day," Agatha says airily. "It's traditional and it's working for us. She's so hot for me that she's crawling out of her skin and I get to watch her simmer."

"I bet you love that," Valentina says, her voice dropping. It really shouldn't have taken the senators this long to come back. "She doesn't even get how neatly you played her, does she?"

A low, wicked laugh. "Why would she?" Agatha asks. "Darling Wanda. She's always needed someone to take her firmly in hand. Someone who understands the endless nothing in her soul, someone who isn't afraid of her power to gently take control and guide her in the way she needs to go."

It makes Valentina shudder a little, how honest Agatha is being. This cannot be good. "What are you going to do to me?" she asks. "I know I'm not coming out of here unscathed, so just tell me, Harkness."

"Smart lady," Agatha says, nodding. "I wish I could let you remember this conversation. There hasn't been anyone who could keep up with me since The Ancient One. But it's like Jenny Kale said. If this were just about me, I'd be happy with pretty little Wanda begging to give me her power so I don't leave her. But there are the boys. In particular, there's Billy."

Agatha knows about the team who has been tracking her since the podcast came out. She knows exactly what was said at that meeting somehow. The fear sits with Valentina, but she lets herself inhale and exhale. They had talked about it, the interagency team, how the baby heroes had been something Agatha had put together for Billy, not for herself. Val had looked deeply into that, about how Agatha had been destroying witches since her mother's coven tried to destroy her. About how Agatha had redoubled her efforts after losing her magic-less son. About how Agatha was not a world domination guy.

"You love him, don't you," Val says inanely, as if it's not blatantly obvious that Agatha Harkness adores Billy Maximoff. "How powerful IS the kid, anyway? More powerful than his mother?"

"Not yet," Agatha says with a preen. "He will be, when he's ready. And of course I love him. I love all three of them. They're mine . And none of you will ever get your hooks into Billy because he'll never need Avengers or you or anyone. He has a coven. He has his team. He's smart and he knows what kind of bullshit heroes are. Hell, he barely gets sucked into my bullshit. And that's why you can't remember this conversation, Val. You aren't going to get any sort of hold on me or Billy. Which is a pity, because I could use a foil. But that's how it goes."

She strokes Valentina's hands and her eyes flare purple. "So let's part as friends, shall we?"

Three Months Before THAT

Empire State University Student Television Station. Conference Room.

"Are we really doing this? Complete with a stupid name like Young Avengers or something?" Riri asks, pacing back and forth.

"We said NO to anything that smacked of Avengers, remember?" Cassie says, but her jaw is set nervously. "Nothing like Team Murder Auntie vs. Team Avengers, blah blah blah."

"Nobody came up with anything better than Champions, though," Riri says, fiddling with her suit. Everyone had been awed to see what Riri had come up with after spending weeks with Cassie in California during her summer break as an intern with the Van Dyne Foundation. With the materials she'd been able to get from the Wakandan Embassy after her help with Billy, Tommy, and Agatha, she had created a suit that Tony Stark himself might have envied.

In fact, Happy Hogan had tried to buy the prototype from Riri for an eight-figure sum. She'd flipped him off and told him he could license parts of the technology just like everyone else.

"I already have enough subpoenas to fill a whole basket," Agatha says from where she's looking over Manhattan with a sour expression. "Calling it Team Murder Auntie would get the nice senators from the midwest all hot and bothered for more appearances in DC and involve you kids, which we worked really hard not to do."

"Hey hey hey!" Doreen yells, bouncing into the room with Tommy and Nancy in tow. The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl is not exactly at the power level of the other heroes - she herself says that she's a street-level gal - but nobody else has accepted that. Tommy in particular has bonded with Doreen and the two of them can calm down almost any fight that isn't Billy and Agatha arguing about a Wanda-related problem. Nobody can calm down Billy and Agatha arguing about Wanda, including Wanda or Charisse, the third family therapist they've landed on since Wanda's return to the land of the living. "Are we doing our guppy breaths, team?"

Only Doreen is allowed to therapy-speak. It's because she's good at it. Despite the irritated look on Riri's face, she starts opening and closing her mouth and Cassie starts rotating her shoulders to reduce the tension. Tommy beams and runs over to hug Agatha, who throws an arm around him casually.

"Billy and Kamala are doing great, by the way," he says. "I cheated and checked on them when we were placing the cameras."

"Ooh, bad boy," Agatha teases. "Momda better not have seen, she told you not to run into traffic."

Tommy laughs. "You were right. The 5-0 is letting them intervene and their tricks with their combined sparkly lights are fucking sick . They got these kids out like they were going down an escalator, people were recording and freaking out."

"Good," Agatha says, petting the hollow of her neck. "Is Kate still on lookout?"

"Of course," Tommy says. "She's ready to knock out any intervention from the CIA or call for backup, but I think everyone's happy."

"Well, then," Agatha says, looking away from the window and at the four young superheroes nervously waiting for their moment. "I think it's time for the rest of you to join Billy and Kamala, don't you?"

Reaction Post

(from the subreddit r/HotAvengersGoss, a post titled "Who saw the baby Avengers at the subway?")

Main Post, from u/MaximovaTruther

Welp, looks like Wanda's boys are part of the family business and they brought some friends, eh?

[A video of Billy and Kamala's light powers, along with Tommy, Cassie, Riri, and Doreen helping victims of the recent NYC Subway crash out of the rubble. A crying child throws its arms around Doreen, who hugs the child with her squirrel tail. Everything is scored to Santigold, "Ushers of the New World"]

Reply from u/ClintsQuiverArrow

Oh, shit, the armor on those girls is MIND-BLOWING. Even the nano armor Cassie is rocking is next-gen AF.

Reply from u/NanoArmorSux

I want to know who the Iron Man-looking chick is, that armor is so fucking sick, and Ms. Marvel is involved along with Wanda's kids and this is just FUCKING AMAZING.

Reply from u/MaximovaTruther

See? You bring back the Scarlet Witch, get her head on straight (thank you evil lesbian girlboss!) and suddenly we've got Avengers assembling!!!1!

Reply from u/ClintsQuiverArrow

I'd like to see some more boys in the mix, but I can't deny that it's nice to see young heroes actually out there in the action, not just blowing up some of the big 3, right?

Just After Wanda's Return in Somerville, Massachusetts

Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode Eight Teaser

[Billy and Tommy Maximoff stand in a generic bedroom, waving at the camera. Over them, Ariana Grande's "yes, and?" is playing. The caption EMPIRE STATE U MEET-UP appears over their faces.]

BILLY: So, I know the last time I used my TikTok, I freaked some people out BUT I wanted everyone to know that this time tomorrow, the last episode of Interview with the Witch-Killer is coming out. And nobody got juice boxed.

TOMMY: It's going to be so great, you guys, we even have a student radio producer helping us make it sound good. NANCEEEEEEE!

[Tommy runs around in a blurry circle while a horn sound effect plays]

BILLY: And just to get you excited for what's to come...

[CUT TO a small radio studio where Agatha and the twins are sitting around recording the intro to the podcast.]

NANCY WHITEHEAD (VO): Doreen is right. Your fans are wondering "hey, is the Scarlet Witch back? Did any juice boxing happen? Is Agatha still a ghost?"

AGATHA: The answers are: sort of, sort of, and no. Wanda is back, which is somewhat but not entirely different from the Scarlet Witch being back. Sorcerers were drained of most of their magic but are all still alive. Sadly, I am detainable in several jurisdictions now, though given the legal issues around my revivification, legal status, etc...

TOMMY: Agatha has to go talk to Congress, along with that CIA lady she banged in the Newseum. They asked us very, very nicely. Momda got pissy, but...

DOREEN (OS): Wait, oh my god, do you call her Momda? That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.

[CUT TO: A dingy classroom with a group of young people, including Ms. Marvel, Riri Williams, Cassie Lang, Kate Bishop, and Doreen Green]

RIRI: Top five questions on the big list of questions, go.

AGATHA: How did we do it? What are the limits of my magic now? What are the limits of Wanda and Billy's magic? What happens if any combination of the three of us use our magic in tandem? And what are the seven of you going to do next?

[The video returns to Billy and Tommy.]

BILLY: Listen in and you'll find out.

TOMMY: The finale of Interview with the Witch-Killer, wherever you get your podcasts.

[AGENT 2 NOTE: THIS BITCH, I SWEAR TO GOD!!!

VFA NOTE: Not sure I understand that outburst, Darcy.

AGENT 2 NOTE: The SEVEN OF THEM? I'm pretty sure that Agatha Harkness just spent the past three months building HERSELF a superhero team. Maybe she built it for the twins, I don't know, but she did it. THAT was the trick she hid.

VFA NOTE: [REDACTED FOR OBSCENITY]

AGENT 2 NOTE: I'm guessing these seven, plus America Chavez, are probably the strongest young superheroes in the country and maybe the world, yeah?

VFA NOTE: You would be correct. Fuck fuck fuck. All right, screw this comment section nonsense, we're doing a debrief.]

Three Days After the Last Episode of Interview with the Witch-Killer

Former Avengers Tower. Middle of the Night.

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine is magnificently enraged, walking back and forth with a giant water bottle instead of alcohol. For once, she isn't wearing a sleek little suit or sneering with smug superiority. She's wearing joggers and a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt and a pair of Tevas, which is perhaps the most upsetting part. Yelena has never seen her occasional employer this disconcerted. She keeps running a hand through her hair with twitchy energy.

The seven young heroes' photos are placed on a large board on the wall, where Darcy Lewis is writing things on post-its and putting them underneath the heroes, making connections with a sharpie. Jimmy, Happy, and Jen Kale are writing diligently on their own post-its, muttering at each other.

Billy and Tommy Maximoff. Kamala Khan. Cassie Lang. Kate Bishop. Riri Williams. And even Doreen Green, her slightly large front teeth very prominent in her photo.

"I need a fucking motive," Valentina says with a sigh. "I could suss out why almost anyone else on Earth builds a team like this, but I would have sworn up and down Harkness was out for psychosexual revenge. She gets off on screwing you and making you like it, which I had the bad luck to learn personally. Besides, Harkness likes hers powerful and the Scarlet Witch is about as powerful as she could pull, barring a reunion with the literal Grim Reaper, and Death didn't come with replacement sons."

"Sounds right," Jen says, scribbling messily onto her neon pink squares.

"Honestly, if that was all, I'd be happy," Val says, starting to pace again. "Hell, I'd say godspeed, Daddy Harkness, tame that tiger."

"Don't say it like that," Darcy objects from the whiteboard. "We all get it, but we don't have to say it out loud."

"Anyway, the point is that Wanda with a leash and her boys is a hell of a lot less dangerous," Val says breezily. "It's the kids that have me fucked up. I suspected she was testing the boys against the other kids - it's one of the reasons I sent Yelena here out to the Turnpike - but the covenless witch doesn't play ball with others."

Yelena jumps up and stares at Valentina. "You did what?" she asks. "The Turnpike was a set up? You told me you wanted the boys and Harkness and that I wasn't supposed to let them get away! Fuck you, Valentina, you burned me deliberately with that stunt."

"I needed to get a better read on Harkness and her abilities," Valentina says with a shrug. "You fit the profile of all these kids she and Billy were talking to on the podcast. Young, connected to Avengers or heroes, somewhat skeptical of where things are at the moment. I also wanted to see what Billy would do in a situation where he and Agatha were at odds. That relationship is the key to everything, not the one between Agatha and Wanda."

Jen Kale stands up now, walking over to the picture of Billy Kaplan/Maximoff and looking at it critically. "Fuck," she mutters. "That's it. That's exactly it. Because Agatha got hers. She got the girl, she got the boys, and she has enough firepower between herself and Death to keep her ass safe from any threat she can't juice box. This is about Billy. What does Billy Maximoff want, or more accurately, what does Agatha want for Billy?"

Unreleased Segment from Interview with the Witch-Killer, Episode 7

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This was found on Tommy Maximoff's phone after the [REDACTED EVENT]. It has not been released to the public and was removed from the interagency file after Val's little slip-up in the SCIF.]

BILLY: The footage is changed, I blanked any cameras I could. I can't believe this worked. I also can't believe you can still mind-control people with your ghost hands.

AGATHA: I mean, it's Doctor Strange. Wanda probably threw as much power at me as she could because fuck that guy. Too bad about Wong though, he's never pissed me off enough to earn even a partial drain.

BILLY: I feel like such an asshole.

AGATHA: Having second thoughts? We can stop right now.

BILLY: No. This was as much my idea as yours. I have my phone ready to pull Jen and the others up here. I just wish we didn't have to blast Tommy and America to make it look believable.

AGATHA: They'll bounce back. And you...are you sure? Last chance, Teen.

BILLY: I know. And I'm sure. This is my choice to do this with you, just like we put the compulsion charms on the audio files to bring Tommy back. Just like when we ran the cons that got him out of Bakersfield. Every step of the way you've given me a choice and I choose this. Let's bring Wanda home.

AGATHA: I wish I could promise you this will work. It's our best chance, but she has to decide to come with me and put her power into this scam of a spell. And I can't make her come with me.

BILLY: I'm going to open the boundary to the in-between now. (short pause). Be careful, Agatha. I know you can't promise anything about Wanda but can you promise me you'll come back?

AGATHA: Someone has to keep you and your brother from getting into trouble. Otherwise you'll end up Avengers.

BILLY: Never. I'm not that nice.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: A strange, high-pitched noise overwhelms the audio, causing most electronics in the Wakandan consulate to shut down. The file after this cannot be recovered.]

A Year and a Day After Wanda Maximoff's Return

Westview, New Jersey

"Dear shadows, now you know it all," Agatha says faintly, floating the file she's been surreptitiously editing since she and Billy paid Jen Kale to be their double agent on the inside away from Wanda. "Is it too much, sweetheart?"

Lifting the damning audio file from Val had been so helpful and worth every moment Agatha had spent in Washington, spinning partially true stories about history and thoroughly destroying any privacy she'll have for the next twenty years.

Wanda shakes her head. "You keep forgetting that I've been in your head," she says, her eyes slightly dreamy. "We were connected for so long, Agatha. I didn't know every detail of every evil scheme, but I know you. I told you a year ago that your morals - or your lack of them - didn't matter."

And if that isn't the sexiest thing a lady could hear, Agatha thinks, licking her lips. The year of waiting has been delicious, but her willpower is reaching a breaking point. She wants this as badly as she's wanted anything.

Crossing the space between them, Wanda sits down next to Agatha on the couch and gently puts two fingers just under her chin before walking them down the other witch's elegant throat.

"Then - if you're still interested in negotiating the boundaries of this relationship," Agatha says as Wanda swats at her, tired of hearing Charisse's favorite phrase for the past three sessions. "Yes. Yes, absolutely yes."

She moans when Wanda pulls her in, slamming their mouths together enthusiastically. "I want you," Wanda says. "You've been driving me out of my mind with how..." she nips at Agatha's jaw "Absolutely..." a long lick against her collarbone, "Good..." her hand sliding under Agatha's shirt... "You've been."

Agatha pulls back just long enough to set a single finger on Wanda's lips. "Then, darling," she says, disappearing her clothes, "Let's be wicked."