Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

In life, there are paths we decline ourselves. And there are paths fate declines for us. If Agatha learned one lesson in life, it was that fate hated her from birth.

Now, do not pity her. Agatha’s battle against fate is currently tied. Fate weaved her a horrible childhood? Agatha ran from home and rebuilt her own path. Fate set the inescapable mourning of her stillborn son? Agatha bargained with death.

But because fate declines paths by simply not presenting them to us, deep inside her soul, Agatha knew that, in its greater web, fate probably won more than it had lost. However, since one cannot mourn what one didn’t know one could have, seven years ago, Agatha sentenced a tie.

And fate hadn’t bothered her ever since.

“What we seem to be forgetting nowadays is how the 17th-century political and socioeconomic context influenced the motivation behind those accusations. When we remember this, the Salem Trials become more clearly a backdrop for the powerful to seek more power,” Agatha lectures to her dozens of students as thunder rumbles outside. “While people in Salem Town kept living their best lives by the standards of that time, those living their already harsh lives in Salem Village faced a popular division. One that not only favored witch hunts by actively instigating accusations, but also by creating public mayhem and panic that pitted even lovers against their lovers, mothers against their children.”

Leaning back against her oak desk, Agatha silently judges her students' Halloween costumes. Considering her annual class was entitled ‘Introduction to Political Background of Salem Witch Trials’, Agatha expected them to be respectful by abandoning the torches and pitchforks.

“And let’s keep in mind that Salem Village was a rural community with clashing ideologies since it was founded. What the dispute over whether to accept or deny the town's influence did was merely reignite that spark that led to the political and religious madness that prematurely ended the lives of the nineteen innocent women sentenced to death by hanging.”

From a distance, Agatha witnesses two brats dressed as pilgrims giggling and whispering to each other. The classroom becomes even quieter as both are too distracted laughing to notice Agatha silently stopping by their desk.

The sound of Agatha defiantly putting her hands on the desk echoes through the room. “Hello, boys,” she gives them a threatening smile. “Care to share with the class how the death of nineteen women consists in an amusement for either of you this morning?”

They exchange a fearful look. The blond clears his throat. “It doesn’t, Professor Harkness.”

“Come on, dude,” the ginger laughs, bumping his friend’s shoulder. “Ask her your question.”

“Oh, a question?” Agatha teases. “I love questions, Mr…?”

“Stark.”

The other seeks his friend's support before looking at her. “Bishop,” he pauses. “With all due respect, Professor Harkness. I don’t understand this fuss over Salem. ‘Cause it was nineteen women, right? Out of two hundred accusations. Doesn’t Europe have a bigger death count?”

“Yeah. Europe had maaaany more deaths because of witchcraft accusations, and we don’t discuss that nearly as much,” his friend adds. “People who believe in witchcraft are dumb.”

That loud silence burst into hushed whispers. She grins at them one more time before returning to her desk, waiting for the class to become quiet again.

“Thank you, Mr. Bishop, for the ‘due respect’ your disrespectful question carried. I’m afraid you’re both right. European countries executed around sixty thousand people over 300 years. But do any of you know how long it took for a single rural village to execute nineteen women?”

Looking down, Stark shakes his head.

“A year and a half,” Agatha responds. “Now, I recommend that you genius calculate how many people would have been killed in 300 years in Salem, if there had been no intervention. “And we’re not even discussing the ongoing witch hunts outside Salem. Who knows what would have happened if the same mayhem found in Salem had spread across New England.”

Reaching her main goal, Agatha witnesses Mr. Bishop getting overwhelmed by his own embarrassment. Agatha takes a sip from her green mug.

“The Salem Witch Trials are a cautionary tale of how abuse of power leads to lethal mass hysteria. What happened there isn’t different from what we see nowadays,” Agatha continues. “And people in power reinforcing that kind of behavior still have the nerve to put themselves as the witches being hunted.”

And finally, Mr. Stark’s face matches his hair.

“Now, does anyone have an actual question regarding today’s lecture?”

As the storm continues outside, Agatha patiently answers every question, taking proper care to make sure her students understand her explanations and don't have follow-up questions. 

As time passes, Agatha looks at her watch. "I can answer two more questions;" She scans the room and points to a pink-haired student.

“Professor, are you concerned with the Salem Seven rising?”

As expected, the students start side-talking. Agatha glances at the exit door opening. A stranger walks in, silently sitting on the few remaining chairs at the back. Even though Agatha is too far away to see their face, the stranger obviously contrasts with her 20-something students.

Especially nowadays, it’s not unusual for curious guests to lurk into her classes without enrolling. When the conversations stop, Agatha clears her throat. “Well, I’m always concerned with the rise of ancient institutions with archaic belief systems,” she says as the class bursts into laughter.

“Which one is your favorite, Professor Harkness?”

Agatha smiles. “Oh, definitely the one which sexual self-restriction can enhance, and therefore prove, the existence of magic,” she makes a theatrical magic gesture. “I hope whatever goddess you pray to at night helps us to stop them in time. Otherwise, I might be out of a job soon.”

Another set of laughs mix with whines and cries at the idea. Despite knowing there is always a small chance the Salem Seven achieve political power, the chance of Agatha leaving the university bearing her own last name is even smaller.

“Alright, last question,” Agatha announces, clapping her hands. “Make it a good one.”

Half a dozen hands are raised, but Agatha's attention is drawn to the seventh raised hand in the back. Agatha points to the stranger. 

They stand as the students turn to face them. “Giving your former field experience, Dr. Harkness,” they say in a heavy foreign accent. “Could the Salem Seven find the Witches’ Road after all those centuries?”

This time, there is no laughter. Nor whispers. The whole class fell into silence as if everyone there was merely a character in a paused film. Agatha tries swallowing down the anger that instantly takes over her body. Everyone is staring at her, waiting.

“Class dismissed,” Agatha declares, gathering her things and kicking her office door open.

Slamming the door shut, Agatha feels tears falling. For many reasons, Agatha hates crying. It made her literally sick. Headaches due to dehydration. Stress hormones are released into her bloodstream and trigger her body to tense up and remain sore afterwards. Agatha wipes her tears and sits on her chair, easing her breath.

When it came to Agatha Harkness, the unspoken rule was no questions about the Road. Ever. It didn’t matter if it fit the subject of discussion or not. Agatha never answers questions about the Witches’ Road.

There is a knock on the door, and Agatha wipes one last stubborn tear. “Come in.”

“Forgive me, Dr. Harkness. It wasn’t my intention to upset you,” the stranger says. “I’m Dr. Vidal. Do you have a minute for us to talk?”

Now Agatha can see their brown eyes matching their dark hair. They are beautiful. But it wasn’t their beauty that caught Agatha’s attention. 

Looking at them was like seeing a stranger on the street who you're sure you know but can't quite remember from where. Agatha breaths. “No.”

Dr. Vidal takes a step back. “Oh, I can schedule an appointment if that’s-”

“I have an educated guess about what you want to talk about. It doesn’t matter if you have an appointment or not. It’s not about time.”

Clearly sent by fate, Dr. Vidal sits in front of her. “Professor, I have no idea what happened that made you give up your research, but your work has inspired me to…”

But whatever words Dr. Vidal is saying, Agatha is too busy staring at their eyes, lips, hair. Their whole face feels strangely familiar as if she had spent countless hours staring at them. And then Agatha’s eyes drop to the black teardrop-shaped stone on their necklace.

“Have we met?” Agatha interrupts.

“No,” Vidal replies, tucking the necklace under their shirt.

“Are you sure?”

“I would remember meeting you before. I’ve read your research more times than I feel comfortable admitting out loud,” they smile, nervous. “Can I ask you something?”

“Look, Dr. Vidal. I already know what it is. What you are asking for is impossible. The Witches’ Road is a myth,” Agatha explains. “Nothing more than a historical heist. A centuries-old con to shortcut taming people into submission.”

“What a shame you think that,” they say in a heavier accent. “I’ve been expecting your experience would show me the way to the Dark Road.”

“The Darkhold?” Agatha frowns. “Dr. Vidal, you must be confusing me with my wife. Doctor Maximoff is the one searching for-”

“Not the Darkhold,” they point at their lips. “The Dark Road.”

Agatha can only stare in plain confusion.

“Forgive me, Professor Harkness. Have you never heard about the Dark Road before?” they ask, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. “That’s the Land of the Dead beneath the Witches’ Road.”

“The land of what?”

“The Dead. I’m a thanatology researcher. I've been studying death my whole life. In my research I explore the cultural implications of magic beliefs in the processes of dying and grieving. And when I analyzed its psychological effects on my subjects, I’ve noticed they quite frequently dream of a place I named ‘Land of the Dead’.”

Agatha’s phone rings, she looks at the caller ID. “What did you say your major was?”

“I haven't said yet.” Vidal moves in their seat. “I’m a Philosophy student.”

Unable to help herself, Agatha snorts. “Forgive me, Dr. Vidal. You walk unauthorized into my classroom seeking for help to find a place you allegedly discovered by hearing your subjects talk about their dreams?” she mocks. “If you want to search the Witches’ Road, be my guest. I’m not standing in your way. Now, if you excuse me, I'll have to take this.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Not even ten minutes later, Agatha is knocking at the door of the Head of the Social Sciences Department. “No! No, no, turn around and leave,” Morgan warns. “Agatha, no!”

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“You’ll say you have to leave early and need to cancel your afternoon classes.”

Agatha scoffs. “No.”

“Go on, then.”

“I have to leave early, and I want you to give my afternoon classes,” Agatha tries, sitting in front of her. “Please, Morgan?”

“Agatha, it’s the fifth time this month.”

“Tommy got into a fight at school.”

“Again?” Morgan asks. “Goddess, Agatha, you have to put a leash on that kid!”

“It’s almost over. Wanda is returning in a week and-”

“Oh, where have I heard that before?” Morgan pretends to think before snapping her fingers. “Last month! When Wanda promised you she would be returning in a week. And almost every month before that for the past year.”

“This time is different, Morgan. That was before my mother...” Agatha cuts herself off. “She knows I’m barely holding on.”

Morgan’s expression softens. “Fine, Agatha. Your students won’t be happy, but I’ll tap in for you-”

“Thank you, thank you,” Agatha says, standing. “I could fucking kiss you right now!”

“We swore not to do that anymore,” Morgan teases. “Also, you didn’t let me finish. I’ll give your afternoon classes if you give our guest a tour on Monday. They are-”

“Deal. Text me the details,” Agatha agrees, already holding the doorknob. 

“Let me finish, woman!” Morgan says. “It’s a Salem Seven representative.”

“Oh, fuck! Are you throwing me to the beasts?”

Morgan chuckles. “You’ll be fine, Agatha. They just want a quick department tour,” she says. “Besides, there is no one with more experience with their shit than you.”

Parking at the twins’ middle school, Agatha walks into the principal's office. Tommy is sitting beside a kid with a purple eye. Whatever happened, Agatha knew Tommy would not be leaving unpunished this time.

“Mrs. Harkness, we-” Mr. Bohner starts. 

“Doctor,” Agatha corrects him.

“Dr. Harkness, we requested your immediate presence here because Tommy assaulted another student. Again. He stood up in class and walked towards his classmate and simply punched him! He refuses to tell us what happened.”

Agatha sighs. “I know it always seems I’m telling you this, but it won’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry, doctor. Tommy has been showing persistent signs of conduct disorder. He doesn't follow rules, and his behavior has been increasingly more aggressive both verbally and physically in the past months,” Mr. Bohner says. “It gives me no pleasure doing this, but we’ll have to give him a two-month suspension, at least.”

“Two months?! Look, his mom- My wife, who is his biological mom, is returning next week. I do believe his behavior is nothing more than a reflection of a child missing their other parent. Don’t you agree?”

“That’s a possibility, Doctor Harkness. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change the fact that Tommy has been a danger to himself and his fellow classmates. We’ve been postponing a more severe disciplinary action for months now, precisely because we’re aware of his situation.”

“Can’t the suspension wait until Wanda returns home?”

Mr. Bohner gives her an empathetic smile. “I’m afraid not, doctor.”

“Alright. Since I’m already here, can I take Billy home, too?”

Waiting for Billy in the car, Agatha and Tommy stay in a complete awkward silence. Agatha looks at him through the rearview mirror. The boy looks out the window with an angry expression as he anxiously shakes his feet, accidentally hitting the passenger seat.

“Tommy, what happened?” Agatha asks patiently, turning to look at him. He just keeps staring outside, not even acknowledging her question. “Honey, I know things haven’t been normal the past years, but I promise you everything is going to be fine. I’m really worried about you and-”

“Stop pretending you’re my mom!” he looks at her with tearful eyes.

Agatha nods and returns to look at the school gates. By the time she and Wanda married, the twins were eight and had already spent almost a whole decade accustomed to having a happily married mom and dad. And that was suddenly taken away from them.

Despite her best efforts to care for Tommy, Agatha knew the boy missed his father. But, unlike Billy, Tommy never seemed to welcome or even want Agatha’s affection. With time, Agatha stopped trying to win him over. Which only made things worse when Wanda went away for work and started postponing her return.

“Hi, honey,” Agatha greets as Billy opens the car. “How was school today?”

“It was cool! We’re casting for The Wizard of Oz,” Billy says. Agatha feels her heart swell with pride, remembering how he repeatedly asked her to read that book for him at bedtime years ago. “Elijah said I have the best shots auditioning for the Scarecrow, but I want to audition for Dorothy.”

Tommy scoffs. “You have a better chance as the monkey.”

“Hey, don’t talk to your brother like that!” Agatha scolds. She starts the car and looks at Billy through the rearview mirror. “Billy, if you want to audition for Dorothy, you go ahead.”

“Like that’s gonna help his situation.”

“Tommy, don’t,” Billy pleads.

“What situation?” Agatha asks, frowning at them. “Boys, what situation?”

Neither of them speaks or looks at her again the whole way to Agatha’s second stop. Since she was already in the neighborhood, it didn’t really make sense to go home only to return in three hours. 

Agatha gets out of the car, “This conversation isn't over, boys.”

Entering the elementary school building, Agatha notices some strangely new flyers. Mostly campaign advertising after school activities, but she stops in front of one:

SALEM SEVEN’S COMMANDMENTS:
WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW FOR THE NEXT YEARS

She rips the paper off the wall, crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash before walking to the reception desk, “I’m here to pick up my son, Nicholas Harkness.”

The unfamiliar blonde receptionist types something on her computer. “Just a second, Mrs. Harkness.”

A minute later, Nicky’s school principal shows up.

“Dr. Harkness, there must have been a minor miscommunication. Nicky was feeling unwell this morning. We’ve tried to contact you, but your phone was out of service.”

“Shit! I forgot to give the school my new number,” Agatha says, handing Mrs. Dawson her card. “Where is Nicky?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Harkness. We asked him for a family member's number,” she pauses. “His grandma picked him up an hour ago.”

At that, Agatha runs back to the car and drives home, trying to remind herself that there are still two children with her in that car. Connecting her phone with the car, Agatha unsuccessfully tries calling home before dialing her mother’s number. No answer. The twenty-minute drive home felt like hours.

After (kind of) parking in the garage at home, Agatha kicks the front door open, ready to call her son. But the first thing she hears is Nicky's laughter. With a tight lump in her throat, Agatha runs to the living room with the twins right behind her.

“Mama!” Nicky comes out of his fort built with sheets in their living room.

“Nicky,” Agatha picks him up, holding tight as she finally looks at the woman sitting on the couch with one of Agatha’s books in hand.

“Grandma!” Billy and Tommy shout in unison.

“The school called me,” Natalya says, standing to hug her grandsons. “I tried calling you, but you changed your number.”

Agatha fights back the tears for a third time that day. “Boys, why don’t you play while grandma and I talk?”

Without needing to be told twice, Tommy is already turning on the PlayStation 5 that Agatha had given the twins as their birthday present. Natalya and Agatha enter the kitchen, and she notices the woman must have been making Nicky’s favorite sandwich for him.

There, Agatha can’t fight her crying anymore. She feels Natalya kindly holding her. “Darling, it’s alright,” she says, rubbing Agatha's back for comfort. “Nicky is alright. He seems so much better than the last time I saw him. He only said he was feeling unwell because he didn’t study for his math test.”

Agatha tries laughing. “When they said his grandma picked him up, I thought it was…”

“I know, darling. I’ll brag for the rest of my life that Nicky thinks of me as his grandma,” Natalya smiles proudly. “But I should have guessed you would assume it was her, not me.”

“Nicky loves you,” Agatha admits, pulling out of the hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

Nataylia shakes her head, cupping Agatha’s face. “You have nothing to apologize for. You needed time and space. I know things with my daughter aren't always easy, but I need you to remember that you and Nicky are my family too, Agatha.”

“Thank you. For picking up Nicky today and,” she gestures to the mess in her kitchen, “making his favorite sandwich.”

“That’s what grandmothers are for, dear. Why don't you take a shower while I take care of the boys?” Natalya opens the fridge to pick up peanut butter. “The weather report says the storm will pass soon. Are you planning on taking them trick-or-treating later?”

“I’ve promised them,” Agatha says, remembering the unfinished costumes. “Shit. I have to finish Tommy’s costume and-”

“No, darling. What you need is resting,” Natalya playfully sniffs the air. “And a shower, Agatha. You smell like you ran a marathon. I’ll finish Tommy’s costume. I can even take them tonight, if you would rather rest.”

Agatha nods. “You really don’t mind?”

Natalya gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Again: that’s what grandmothers are for, darling.”

While going upstairs, Agatha picks up the mail and instantly recognizes the hospital bills, tossing them inside a drawer with the rest.

As Agatha takes a long bath, she tries to believe in Natalya’s words. But the truth is that Agatha has no idea what’s the role of a grandmother. Or of a mother, if you want honesty. Being Nicky’s mother and the twins' stepmother has been an emotional rollercoaster since her pregnancy.

At first, Evanora didn’t have a direct part in Agatha’s journey to motherhood. She only learned about Nicky’s existence when he was four years old. Since then, Evanora's not-so-subtle attempts to win over her estranged daughter and grandson left Agatha fearing for their safety. The first three times Evanora tried contacting her, Agatha just changed numbers, hoping it would deliver a clear message. Then, Evanora discovered their address.

When Natalya came into her life, Agatha stared with nothing but suspicion at her relationship with Wanda. Mothers and daughters not only needing, but wanting to spend time together, was a strange concept to her. So Agatha was clueless about the roles of grandmothers and mothers. And more so of how those two roles could complement each other.

Five years later, Agatha had grown accustomed to Natalya’s comforting presence in their lives. From Tommy’s racing competitions and Billy’s school plays to Nicky’s hospital admissions. Natalya had been there for it all without a single complaint. She never held it against Agatha, never scolded her for crying or removed her affection when Agatha didn’t know how to show her own feelings.

After dinner, the storm passed. Nataylia took the kids out for trick-or-treating as Agatha waited for her wife’s call. “Hold on, I’ll send you a picture,” she says, hitting send at the image of three boys at the front porch in their matching Halloween costumes. “Tommy is a T-rex that plays softball for some reason, Nicky is a regular Dracorex. Wanna guess which costume Billy chose?”

“A wizard, obviously,” Wanda asks.

Agatha laughs. “They are growing up so fast, Wanda. I can’t believe Nicky is turning seven,” she says before lying in bed to stare at her wife through the screen.

“Are you still taking them to that museum tomorrow?”

“Like Nicky would settle for anything less than a dinosaur exhibition for his birthday,” Agatha jokes before her expression turns soft. “I wish you were here.”

“I know, baby. I miss you too.” Despite Wanda’s flickering image from the bad connection, Agatha can picture her smiling just from her voice, “And where is your Halloween costume?”

“Hmm, I’ve chosen something different this year,” Agatha says, taking off her robe and revealing her naked body to her wife. She hears Wanda’s gasp. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck, don’t do this to me,” Wanda begs. “I’ve missed your body so fucking much, Agatha.”

“Don’t worry, baby. We will ask your mother to spend a whole weekend with the boys here and get ourselves a hotel room so I can fuck you how much I missed you.”

 “Agatha, please…” Wanda moans, then sighs. “Don’t get mad at me.”

“Why would I get mad at you?” Agatha tilts her head. Wanda remains quiet, so she repeats. “Wanda, why would I get mad at you?”

“Baby, we are so close to finishing the first-ever transcription of the Darkhold,” Wanda says, making Agatha immediately close her robe. “We just need a few more weeks and then-”

“How many weeks, Wanda?”

“Four or six weeks, but listen, honey-”

“Fuck! Wanda, you promised!” Agatha shouts, waddling through the room. “You fucking promised last time that it would be the last time. You can’t do this to me again!”

“I’m not doing anything to you!” Wanda fights back, trying to keep her voice down. Because of the time zone difference, her assistant was probably asleep. “I’m not here climbing the Wundagore Mountains; this is my life’s work, Agatha. Can you be at least a little happy with what I’m accomplishing here?!”

“Wanda, I didn’t marry you to be your children’s unpaid nanny!” Agatha sits in bed to look at the image of Wanda. “Billy and Nicky miss you so much. And it’s fucking hard keeping things from falling apart, Wanda! Tommy hates me.”

“Agatha, Tommy doesn't even know what hate is,” Wanda tries to comfort her. “He is ten years old.”

Agatha frowns. “Thirteen, Wanda. Tommy and Billy are thirteen now,“ she says, seeing how Wanda tries to hide her own surprise at hearing that. “Do you even understand what’s going on? Billy cries himself to sleep every night because he misses you. Tommy has been suspended from school because he keeps picking fights, hoping his mom comes home. And Nicky-” Agatha pauses as she feels the tears forming.  “The hospital sent the rest of the bills this morning, Wanda.”

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Wanda pauses. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to ask for money to-”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence!”

Ignoring Wanda’s mumbling, Agatha goes to the bathroom and washes her face. “... I’m not saying this hasn’t been hard on you, baby. I appreciate everything you have been doing for us. But we are so close, Agatha. You know how many people this can help?”

Standing in front of the notebook screen, Agatha nods. “I hope it is worth ruining your own family to help a bunch of strangers.”

"You don’t mean that,” Wanda says in a crying voice. 

Agatha is ready to argue that she does, in fact, mean that when she hears a quiet sob coming from outside her bedroom. She looks at the doorway and sees Billy holding a Jack-o'-lantern filled with candy. And with tears already falling down his face.

And he runs away. 

“Shit.” Agatha interrupts Wanda’s pleas. “Wanda, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Without waiting for a goodbye, Agatha shuts the notebook and runs to the twins’ bedroom. She gently knocks on the door to announce her presence, but when Billy doesn’t reply, Agatha enters the bedroom. No sign of Billy.

“Oh my Goddess! I think Billy’s spells worked. He vanished in thin air,” Agatha theatrically says, opening the wardrobe, knowing he wouldn’t be there, and hears him giggling. “Where could he be? Maybe under the bed?”

After playfully lifting the sheets to look for Billy under the bed,  Agatha smirks at the Halloween candy left in his bed. “Well, since he's gone to another dimension, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I ate all of his candy, right?”

“No!” Billy shouts from the bedroom ceiling.

“What?! Where is his voice coming from?” Agatha gasps.

“I’m still in this dimension, silly.”

“No way! Where are you?” Agatha asks, knowing exactly where he was.

Billy laughs. “It’s my secret spot!”

“Not so secret now I know about it,” Agatha unwrapped a cherry dice lollipop and put it in her mouth. “Wanna come down and talk?”

Agatha sits in his bed and closes her eyes, hearing footsteps in the attic. A minute later, Billy shows up sniffing and clearing his nose in his wizard costume. He gives a loud sigh before sitting beside her in bed.

Billy puts his hand in the candy basket and takes out a salty caramel chocolate bar. His favorite and, tragically to the welfare of the household, also hers. He sadly smiles at her, offering the candy. She wraps her arms around him. “But that’s yours, Billy.”

He nods. “I want you to have it.”

“What if we share?” Agatha suggests. He unwraps the chocolate and carefully splits it in half, handing Agatha her share. She takes a bite, waiting for the right moment. “You heard me and Mom fighting, didn’t you?”

Billy sniffs. “If you and Mom get a divorce, I won’t see you ever again.”

Agatha’s heart completely shatters. “Oh, Billy,” she kisses the top of his head. “Mom and I aren’t getting divorced.”

“But if you do, then I won’t get to live with you and Nicky anymore,” He starts crying harder, and Agatha kneels to be at his eye level, gently squeezing his knee.

“Billy, even if mom and I divorce, you and I are going to see each other all the time,” Agatha says, holding her own tears to not to freak him out more. “I love you so much, honey. You know that there is nothing in this world that can keep me away from you, right?”

“You… Do you promise?” he asks, offering his pinky.

Agatha puts her pinky on his. “I promise.”

Billy smiles playfully between sobs. “You know that pinky promises mean I can cut your finger if you break your promise?”

Agatha snorts because Billy has a way to make even his threats sound terribly sweet. Billy had Wanda’s softness, but that weirdness beneath it? That was Agatha’s.

“I won’t break my promise to you, Billy,” Agatha plants kisses on his face until he releases a ‘ugh’ sound like a thirteen-year-old boy. “And yes, you can get the cleaver from the kitchen and chop my pinky if that happens. That’s how sure I am that I won’t ever ever leave you.”

When Billy seems more calm, Agatha asks him to shower before bed and goes to Nicky's bedroom. Despite not being blood-related, Billy and Nicky were so much alike. Just like his brother, Nicky was the sweetest boy, but Agatha’s weirdness hadn’t reached him yet.

She sits on his bed, tucking his hair. “Did you have fun trick-or-treating tonight?”

Nicky nods, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Tommy bet I couldn’t eat five Kit Kats in a row,” he proudly says. “I won.”

“Five in a roll?” Agatha gasps. “That’s awesome, but isn't your tummy hurting?”

“No, mama. It’s not like last year,” he complains. “I’m a grown-up now.”

Agatha laughs. “Yes, you are. Seven years, huh? Are you excited for tomorrow?”

Nicky yawns, already more tired than not. “I hope I get to see a real Dracorex.”

“Nicky, what you did today: telling adults you were feeling unwell just to skip a test. That wasn’t okay. I don’t want you to ever lie about something like that again, alright?”

He nods, his eyes already closing. “I’m sorry, Mama. It was just a really hard test.”

Kissing her son’s forehead, Agatha tucks him in and turns on the ceiling light, leaving only his nightstand lamp on. “Goodnight, Nicky. I love you.”

After kissing Billy goodnight, Agatha goes downstairs and releases Natalya from her grandma duties. They agree to meet for Nicky’s birthday lunch before the exhibition. 

Agatha hears loud noises coming from the living room and finds Tommy, his hand sticky from all the chocolate and sugar he has already eaten, playing a dinosaur video game.

Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Agatha removes the TV from the socket.

“Hey! I was playing!”

“Not anymore, Tommy,” she scolds, taking off his candy basket and placing it on top of a tall cabinet before sitting on the coffee table. “What happened today?”

“Nothing happened!” he screams at her.

“Really? I guess you will be grounded for two months for nothing then,” Agatha says. “No Halloween candy. No video games. No museum tomorrow. No running practice. No game next month. Is that what you want?”

Tommy shrugs, pouting and crossing his arms. “Whatever, Agatha.”

“Tommy, this is serious. You punched another kid. Whether you like it or not, I know you. And I know you would never do that out of nothing. So I’ll ask you again: what happened?”

Agatha sees Tommy's lips trembling, but she knows he won’t ever cry in front of her.

“Loki called Billy a faggot,” he confesses. “He said he and his friends would pull down his pants at recess to see if he was a girl. When I told him not to, he laughed. So I punched him.”

Oh, well.

Releasing a loud sigh,“Did you punch him really hard?”

Tommy nods and Agatha hands him the candy basket back.

“You can play for half an hour, deal?” Agatha says, waiting for him to agree while plugging the TV again. “Want me to tuck you in later?” she teases.

Tommy scoffs. “I’m not a baby, Agatha.”

Agatha smiles before messing up his blond hair. She sees him rolling his eyes, but hears him giggling after she leaves and enters the kitchen. When Tommy went to bed, Agatha waited enough time for him to fall asleep before tucking him in. She checked on Billy and Nicky too, both already fast asleep and went to bed.

She wakes up in the middle of the night to Tommy yelling and shaking her awake. 

“Agatha, please wake up. Please!” he cries. 

“Tommy? What-”

“It’s Nicky! I can’t wake him up,” he says, already running to Nicky’s bedroom.

The fast kid he was, Tommy gets there before Agatha can even stand. She finds both Tommy and Billy trying to wake up her son. “Nicky?” she holds him, checking his pulse.” Nicky, baby? Please, I need you to wake up.”

Despite still having a strong pulse, Nicky doesn’t wake up. They rush to the nearest hospital and after Nicky is admitted, Agatha sits in the waiting room with Tommy and Billy. Soon, Natalya arrives, and Wanda books an emergency flight. The next few hours feel like an out-of-body experience. The doctors come and go, giving them updates about Nicky. 

And then, someone wearing a black suit arrives. “Dr. Harkness?”

“Dr. Vidal? What are you doing here?”

Rio gives her a sad smile. “Can we talk privately?”

Agatha allows Rio to guide her to one of the many hospital empty rooms. After denying a glass of water, Agatha sits in the armchair on the corner. “Dr. Harkness, I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“Bad news? Do you even work here?”

They ignored her. “Nicky's condition is getting worse by the hour,” Rio explains in a mechanical tone. “His brain function stopped half an hour ago. Doctors are trying everything they can, but-”

“Where is Nicky?”

Rio tilts their head. “Nicky is dying.”

“You’re lying,” Agatha says, shaking her head. “Take me to see my son!”

“Okay, Agatha. Just remember you’re the one who asked for this.” They stand and open the hospital curtain, revealing Nicky in that hospital bed. There were wires connecting him to a big machine on the corner. Rio twists the plug between their fingers. “I do have to unplug his machine now, but you understand that, right?”

Desperate, Agatha cries. “I’m calling security.”

“He is an abomination,” Rio spits that last word. “I have no choice.”

“You do this and I’ll hate you forever!”

“Then it wouldn’t make much of a difference, would it?” Rio teases, smirking and moving to grab Agatha’s arm, digging their long nails into her skin, drawing blood. “Agatha, I need you to know that Nicky’s death… is your fault.”

“What are…” Agatha looks at her. “What the hell did you just say?”

“That it’s your fault. Nicky is dying because of you,” they lick the blood out of the tip of their fingers like a demon. “Have you ever thought that maybe if you believed more, prayed more, had a little bit more faith, your son would have been born healthy?”

Agatha tries to escape from their hands. “I don’t want you here.”

“But you’re the one who invited me, remember?”

“I told you to stop pursuing me!” Agatha’s voice echoes through the hospital room. “What are you still doing here? Leave!”

Rio nods, fixing their suit. “Okay, Agatha.”

They slam the door shut on their way out. Natalya walks in, and Agatha throws herself into her mother-in-law’s arms. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“They said Nicky is dying.” Agatha feels her eyes burn with each tear. “They’ve said it’s my fault he is sick. I’ll fucking sue them and this entire hospital!”

“Oh, you can’t do that, dear. Because deep inside your soul…” Natalya digs her nails into Agatha’s back, making her hiss at the pain, “you know they are right.”

“What did you say?”

“I said they’re right, Agatha.” 

This time it wasn’t Natalya’s voice. Agatha pulls away from the embrace and sees brown, sharp eyes staring at her. “Mother?”

“You’ve always been such a disappointment, Agatha. You are supposed to carry my legacy. And you couldn’t do anything right your entire life.”

Evanora walks towards Nicky’s bed, and Agatha instinctively puts herself between them, blocking her reach.

“You couldn’t even give me a healthy grandson. How embarrassing of you. Even the Goddess knows you would be a horrible mother. She even tried sparing him from the suffering of having you as his mother, but you, selfish like you are, wouldn’t let her.”

“Shut up!” Agatha screams at her and goes to hold Nicky. “Baby, please, wake up. Nicky!”

He opens his eyes, and Agatha smiles between sobs.

“Hi, baby. You’re feeling better, right? I’ll get a doctor so we can go home...”

Nicky’s eyes start rolling to the back of his head, and a beeping starts echoing.

“No, no, no, no.” 

Agatha goes to call a doctor, but Evanora is standing in front of the door.

“Get out of my way!” Agatha tries pulling her away, but Evanora holds her wrists.

“Nicholas is where he needs to be,” Evanora says as a threat, gently tucking Agatha’s hair. “You need to let him go, Agatha. He is in a much better place than under your care.”

Agatha’s eyes start getting foggy from the tears. When she looks at Nicky, he isn’t there anymore. Instead, there is a little girl. Agatha blinks, and the entire room changes to an even more painful and familiar room. “This is a dream.”

But the girl doesn’t acknowledge her presence and keeps playing with her stuffed rabbit. Evanora passes through her, as if Agatha were a ghost trapped in her own nightmare. “Did you pray?” Evanora asks the girl, not older than five.

“No, mother. Do I really have to?” Young Agatha asks.

“If you want to be a good girl, you have to pray, Agatha.” Evanora tucks Agatha in bed before kissing her forehead. “You want your father to come home, don’t you?”

Young Agatha nods, picking up a children’s book from the nightstand. “He wrote he’ll be back on November 23,” she reads with difficulty. “That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Evanora smiles at her. “Yes. Now, make sure to pray before you sleep, alright? We don’t want the Goddess punishing our family.” The girl nods. Evanora turns off the light. “Sweet dreams, Agatha.”

“This isn’t a dream,” Agatha concludes, seeing her younger self sneaking out of bed to turn on the nightstand rabbit lamp to keep reading her book. 

Remembering what happens next, Agatha starts fighting the tears. She goes to the child’s bed and starts talking with her. “No, don’t get distracted. Close that book and start praying. Please. She’ll punish you if you don’t. You’ll blame yourself forever if you don’t.”

But there is no use. Her younger version isn't real. Nothing there is real. Only the guilt and the fear inside her chest. This is a memory playing over and over again. No possibility of change.

Gasping and sweating cold, Agatha wakes up. She looks at the clock on her nightstand. Not even half an hour had passed. She tries to remind herself that it was only a nightmare. Nicky was fine, just sleeping. Agatha tries to close her eyes, but soon gives up.

She tiptoes inside Nicky’s bedroom. Fighting the urge to wake him up, Agatha checks his pulse and breath, waiting for him to move. When he does, she picks up her childhood stuffed rabbit that Nicky claimed as his own and sits on the armchair in the corner of his room, hoping he will wake up in the morning.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

In the middle of the night, Agatha must have accidentally fallen asleep because she wakes up and Nicky’s bed is empty. With her heart beating fast, Agatha rushes downstairs and goes to the kitchen. “Mama!” Nicky whines. “Tommy won’t let me flip the pancakes.”

“That’s because you're a baby,” Tommy defends himself.

“You weren’t supposed to tell her about the surprise!” Billy complains.

“I’m not a baby, I’m seven!” Nicky argues, showing seven fingers to Tommy.

The boys start to discuss, their voices overlapping and making Agatha’s head explode. Tommy starts playfully hitting Billy. Nicky starts jumping excitedly around them, cheering for Billy to win their contest that Agatha had no idea what was about.

“Boys!” She tries, but they don’t hear her over their own screams. 

As a university professor, Agatha was used to calling her students' attention in sophisticated ways. So she puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly. Three small heads turn to look at her. “Alright. This is too much boy energy in this house!”

“We are boys, Agatha!” Tommy complains.

Billy gasps, pointing at her. “You want to have daughters?!”

Agatha snorts. “Can you imagine me with three smaller versions of myself around this house?” she playfully widens her eyes. “I would go insane in a week. I’m very happy with my boys.” She kisses the top of each of the boys' heads. “Who are apparently… destroying the kitchen?”

“It’s Nicky’s birthday breakfast,” Tommy answers, flipping a burnt pancake on the stove.

“Why didn’t you wake me up so I could help you out?” Agatha asks. 

“We wanted to surprise you,” Billy explains, staring at her with those big, kind eyes of his.

“But it’s Nicky’s birthday,” Agatha gasps, picking up Nicky and planting small kisses all across his face as she says, “Happy birthday, Nicky! I love you so so much.”

“Thanks, mama,” he says, giggling and wiping the kisses with his sleeve. “Can we go to the museum now?”

Agatha looks at the clock. “The dinosaur exhibition isn’t until 1 p.m. Remember?” 

Nicky pouts. “When the clock is like this?” He gestures his fingers, showing the hour.

Agatha puts Nicky on the ground, her back starting to feel the effects of her son’s growth as much as her heart. “That’s right, Nicky.”

Nicky counts his fingers. “Four hours?!! That’s tooo long, mama. Can we go play?”

“What about the mess you three made in the kitchen?” Agatha teases. “I thought the breakfast was my surprise.”

Nicky giggles. “Can you finish the breakfast, mama?”

After pretending to be seriously mad for a second, Agatha smiles. “Go.”

Nicky and Billy run to the living room, already arguing about which video game they would choose. The classic Jurassic World Evolution vs. World of Warcraft dispute. Tommy stays. “Aren’t you going with them, Tommy?”

The boy shakes his head, starting to make another pancake. Agatha frowns, removing a lock of blond hair from his face.

“Why not?”

“I already beat Billy’s score last night,” he pauses, looking at her sideways. “Agatha, can I ask you something?”

“Always, Tommy.”

“Are you mad at me ‘cause I hit Loki?”

Agatha sighs, kneeling to look at him at eye level. “Honestly? Tommy, I didn’t like you hitting a classmate. I wish you had come to me first so I could have handled the situation. I wished you would talk to me about your feelings. But...” she says, then gives him an accomplice smile. “Just between us? I’m proud of you for defending your brother.”

Tommy gives a shy smile. “Are they kicking me out? ‘Cause, Agatha, I hate school,” his eyes filled with tears again, “But please don’t send me away just because of that.”

“Hold on, Tommy. What are you talking about?”

“That’s what Loki said when I hit him. That the school was going to throw me away and send me away to a bad place where they sent bad kids.”

Agatha’s eyes open wide at that. “Oh, that’s not… I would never send you away, Tommy.”

“It’s okay, Agatha. You don’t have to lie. I know you don’t like having me here.”

“Tommy, I love having you here,” Agatha says with painful honesty. Despite their relationship never being the best, Tommy was a good kid. “Who else would watch horror movies with me without closing their eyes at the scary scenes?! Nicky and Billy can’t handle that. Tommy, I would never send you away. And especially when you were only stepping up when someone threatened your brother.”

He pauses for a moment, thinking. “You promise?”

Agatha nods. “I promise, Tommy. Now, what do you say we finish those pancakes and eat in the living room, watching them try, and fail, beating up your score?”

Tommy smiles, putting another pancake on the pan.

After they're done with breakfast, Nicky and Billy fulfill Agatah’s prophecy and fail to beat Tommy’s score. Agatha even gives Tommy a playful wink and makes the boy laugh. Around lunchtime, they meet Natalya at her house. As the boys play in the backyard, the adults talk in the kitchen.

“I can always take a loan to pay for a nanny,” Agatha suggests.

“Nonsense, Agatha. I’ll take a family leave and stay with Tommy on the days you have classes.” Natalya offers. “At least until Wanda returns.”

Agatha dry laughs. “Not until another month, apparently.”

“Are you serious?” Natalya sighs. “She’ll miss Luna’s birth? Pietro won’t like that.”

“Wanda is missing a lot of things lately,” Agatha complains, then remembers who she is talking to. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for her. Finding and studying the Darkhold has always been her goal, but…”

Natalya pauses, putting the dishcloth aside. “Have you ever had second thoughts?”

“About Wanda?” Agatha asks. “No.”

“About your career, dear. I know you were some brilliant fancy researcher, too.”

Agatha smiles. “I wouldn’t say brilliant.”

“Modesty doesn’t suit you, honey. Never has and never will. You are brilliant, Agatha,” Natalya praises, making Agatha blush as the phrase rekindles her mommy issues. “So… Have you?”

Agatha shakes her head. “I mean, of course. Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I hadn’t given up, but it doesn’t matter. Does it? Nicky, the twins, and Wanda make me happy. We can’t have it all, can we?”

Natalya smiles kindly. “No, dear. We can’t.”

The museum exhibition was fun. Nicky’s face was sore after smiling with each and every dinosaur he saw, giving the family a full lecture and private guided tour. Well, semi-private as some strangers gather around the seven-year-old to listen to his monologue over why the Utahraptor would be considered scarier than Velociraptor if the Jurassic Park movies - which were completely inaccurate in its deception of dinosaurs according to him- had never been released.

They had ice cream and went to the movies for a new superhero movie that Agatha paid little attention to. On their way back home, Tommy and Nicky kept arguing over which dinosaurs would pull the best fights in a Battleground, a new simulator game that Agatha had bought as Nicky’s birthday gift.

“Today was so fun, Mama. I wish I had a birthday everyday,” Agatha giggles, kissing his forehead and turning on the nightlamp. “Wait, Mama. Which dinosaurs would you put in the battleground first? Like, if it was real?”

Okay, this is not a drill.

“Hmm, the T-Rex and Carcharodontosaurus?”

“Mama, they didn’t even exist at the same time!”

“Oh, my bad. Can I think of a better answer?”

He nods. “You can. But you can’t ask for Tommy’s help. You can ask Billy ‘cause he doesn’t know anything about dinos.”

“I’ll do my own research, Nicky. Sweet dreams, baby.”

“I’m seven!”

“Sorry, sorry. Sweet dreams, old man,” she laughs, closing his door. 

On Monday morning, Agatha drove to the university in time to meet the Salem Seven representative. She had very little to work with since Morgan forgot to mention their name. She sat at one of the library’s tables where they should meet, and googled dinosaur fights on Battleground, starting with a YouTube ranking video of the best carnivores.

“Didn’t know you were a fellow Battleground player,” a familiar voice says behind her. “Have you seen the new dinosaurs they just released in last week’s update?”

Agatha takes her headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

Vidal smirks. “It's nice seeing you, too.”

“Haven’t I been clear enough, Dr. Vidal? I have no interest on the Witches’ Road or the Deep Road-”

“Dark Road.”

“It doesn’t matter. Now, excuse me. I have an important meeting that’s more worth my time than discussing this nonsense with you.”

Vidal takes the seat in front of Agatha.

“What are you doing?”

“Starting your important meeting, Dr. Harkness.”

Agatha frowns. “Are you the Salem Seven’s representative?”

“You could know that already if you hadn’t kicked me out of your office on Friday,” Vidal says. “But don’t worry. I don’t hold grudges.”

Cursing the day she was born, Agatha guides Vidal through the department, explaining each research and professor's resume, skipping parts she’s aware the Salem Seven don’t endorse. Vidal asked some questions, but seemed uninterested in general. Like they were only fulfilling a boring part of their duty. They finish the tour in front of the Library building.

“I hope this tour ends any doubts you and the Seven might have,” Agatha says. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a class in ten minutes.”

“Why didn’t Dr. LeFay give me the tour?”

Agatha swallows. “Dr. LeFay woke up feeling unwell this morning.”

“Does she practice the divination arts? Because Dr. LeFay emailed me on Friday telling about the change of plans,” they give a very annoying smirk. “She also mentioned you offered to give me the tour. Why?”

Fucking Morgan.

“As I’m sure you know, I’m familiar with the Salem Seven’s… quirks, if we can call it that.”

Vidal laughs. “Dr. Harkness, do you believe in Fate?”

Agatha frowns, forcing a grin. “No.”

“Well, I do,” they get closer, smelling like a rainstorm. “And I do believe that whatever forced Dr. LeFay into handing this meeting to you was Fate intervening so we could talk again.”

Agatha laughs. “See, that’s what I hate about people like you. That belief that everything in this world is connected and the universe has some bigger, brighter and magical plan for each of us. What are you implying? My son was suspended from school, so we could meet here today?” Agatha mocks. “Tell me, doctor. What do you have to say that is so important?”

“I have an offer.” They tilt their head, evaluating her reaction. “A job offer.”

“I have a job, Dr. Vidal. Besides, there is not enough money in the world to make me help with your research.”

“Oh, I don’t want your help anymore. If you’re not interested, I can’t force my interest on you. The offer has nothing to do with the Dark Road.”

“What is then?”

“A consultant job. The world seems to be in a dark place right now. Cops calling priestess when they should be calling lawyers. Families searching for chapels when they should seek hospitals. I don’t agree with everything the Salem Seven preach, Dr. Harkness,” they explain. “I’m gathering a team to help people discern that kind of stuff. We’re affectionately calling ourselves the Coven,” they smile proudly at the name, Agatha resists the urge to roll her eyes at its predictability. “I’ve already been contacted by dozens of people needing assistance to solve their, well, not-so-usual problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

“Witchcraft, Dr. Harkness. What else?”

Agatha laughs. “Out of curiosity, why would you want me to be a consultant?”

“Because I need someone like you, Agatha.”

“Are we on a first name basis, Rio?”

They giggle. “Someone has been googling me.”

She hasn’t.

“I did not!”

“How do you know my first name?”

“You told me!”

"I haven’t. That’s okay, Dr. Harkness. I need you because we need someone who doesn’t believe in witchcraft, but has enough experience to easily recognize when something cannot be explained by logic and science.” their eyes start to shine.

“You want me as the devil’s advocate, is that it?”

Vidal nods, smiling bright. “Are you interested?”

“No, Dr. Vidal. I’m not interested in your offer. Aren’t you supposed to be aligned with the Salem Seven initiatives? I doubt they are looking upon your project with good eyes.”

Vidal’s smile doesn’t break, but they give Agatha a quick wink. “What the Seven don’t know won’t hurt them. I’ll keep your spot empty. Good luck, Dr. Harkness.” Vidal offers their hand and Agatha accepts, feeling their strong grip. “By the way, the Ankylosaurus and the Euoplocephalus are an unbelievable fighting match. Not carnivorous. But both are armored, both are tailed. You can’t go wrong with those guys.”

As Agatha watches Vidal leave with their confidence intact, there is a second of curiosity as she stares at the card they sneaked into her hand. Followed by the realization they don’t have a clue of what they are talking about. After a whole day of classes, grading papers and meetings, Agatha tests her theory at the dinner table as Tommy and Nicky keep arguing over which dinosaurs to put next on the battleground.

“What about the Ankylosaurus and the Euoplocephalus fighting each other?”

The expectation is that the discussion returns to carnivorous dinosaurs, but the two boys exchange a look and run to the living room. Later, Agatha angrily tosses their leftovers in the trash before putting the plates in the dishwasher. 

When the three kids are sleeping, Agatha pours herself a glass of wine and opens her notebook. Agatha stares at pictures of Rio Vidal. Mostly formal or giving lectures, then she clicks on the video section. Giving a deep breath, she clicks in the first video entitled How to Walk Down the Dark Road. The one hour video being from two years ago, Agatha watches a younger Vidal talking about their research:

“When facing death, most people believe their loved ones are forever gone. That kind of mentality produces neurological impacts that can damage people’s lives in irreparable ways. I rather think there is a place we go when we die,” they look down at their paper, and then straight at the camera. “I’ll be defending tonight a place I’ve been calling the Dark Road…”

Unable to hear another word, Agatha shuts down her computer and goes to bed. The next few days are more of the same. School. Work. Home. Rinse and repeat, thank you very much. On Thursday, Agatha wakes up with a text from Morgan.

“Agatha, I tried everything to talk the dean out of it.”

“You can’t be serious, Morgan. They were dressed as pilgrims and laughing about the deaths that happened in Salem! Did you want me to be respectful and polite with their mockery?”

“I never expect politeness and respect from you, Agatha. That’s what I always loved about you. But their parents are major investors in this university. You know how spoiled those kids are.”

“They complained about me to their daddies, and then you go and just fire me?”

“I’m not firing you, Agatha. That’s what Edvard advised me to do. I’m giving you an unpaid suspension. Your job will still be here for you in six months.” Morgan pauses. “Hopefully. As long as all of our jobs will be here in six months.”

“And what am I supposed to do until then?” Agatha asks. “Sit home and play Candy Crush? Feel my brain shrinking from watching sitcoms? Pay the bills with the kids Monopoly money, Morgan?”

“What you will do with your time is up to you, Agatha. The only requirement is that you respect your exclusivity contract with us,” Morgan explains, waiting for Agatha to calm herself down. “I’m sorry, Agatha. I really didn’t have a choice on this.”

Morgan had always been a good friend and mentor since they met during Agatha’s first year of college. It was a tough year, being recently homeless, Morgan had helped her get back on her feet. 

“I know you have my back, Morgan.” Agatha notices Morgan gives a familiar look that Agatha has seen many times in their twelve years of friendship. “There is something you’re not telling me,” she whispers.

Morgan makes a hush gesture. She turns on the TV and raises the volume to the maximum. “Things are getting bad, Agatha. Have you watched the news lately?”

Agatha laughs. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re buying the Salem Seven rising? I thought you were better than that, Morgan. You’ve been to Avalon!”

“What did you think about their representative?” Morgan asks, clearly concerned.

“Their… Alright. Definitely not on our side, but not one of those fanatics that you can barely argue with,” Agatha thinks. “I think we’ll be fine. They were just snooping around, more interested in their own matters, if you need to know.”

“But why would they send someone only three months away from the election? They should have done that months ago.”

“You think they are after us?” Agatha mocks.

“I think they are after everyone who dares disagree with them and are perceived as a future political threat. So, yes, Agatha. Forgive me if I’m being paranoid,” Morgan replies, anxiously snapping her fingers. “Do you have any news about your mother?”

Agatha swallows dry. “No, I would like to keep it like that for as long as I can. Why?”

“It’s been months, Agatha. I just think it's weird she didn’t strike back, don’t you? It doesn't sound like Evanora.”

“Maybe that bitch finally gave up.”

Morgan gives her a disbelief smile. “Has a Harkness ever given up on anything?”

It wasn’t a direct attack, Agatha knew. Sometimes, it was harder for her to remember what she had given up herself, too. Morgan’s face instantly drops as she realizes her mistake. “Shit, Agatha. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“That's alright, Morgan. What does Victor think of all of this?”

“He has his usual confidence, but last night I came home and he was acting all… nervous? It’s weird seeing my husband nervous. I think he’s starting to get scared that the Salem Seven will formally endorse Strange. If that happens, then… We don’t stand a chance, Agatha.”

“We can always open that bar in Avalon if everything goes wrong.”

“If everything goes wrong, our heads will be on a spike by the end of Strange’s first year,” Morgan replies with a tease.

Agatha snorts, standing and taking Morgan’s hand for a gentle kiss. “Then it will be an honor to share the gallows with you, my dear.” Morgan rolls her eyes and playfully snaps Agatha’s hand away. “Guess I’ll see you in six months?”

“I’ll miss you, freak.” Morgan pouts. “Don’t become a stranger!”

Gathering her personal belongings from her office, Agatha made a mental list of the things she could do for six months without getting insane. There wasn’t much on that list. She couldn’t teach on the side, but she could do research and write. The only problem was that nothing was that interesting anymore.

Not wanting to break the news to Natalya or Tommy too soon, Agatha goes to a small coffee shop close to the university and opens her notebook. She types sorcerer supreme 2026 and reads the headlines.

Strange vs. Doom: 2026 Election Will Set a Voting Record
Secret Doom: What Victor von Doom Doesn't Want You to Know
That (isn’t) Strange: It Won’t Be the Season of the Witch Anymore

Agatha could spend six months rotting her brain with sensationalist news and bad TV shows, surviving on her emergency fund. Or with something that, despite not being as good as having her normal job, was something to keep her entertained for a while. She opens her purse and picks up a card, “Dr. Vidal? Yes, this is Agatha Harkness. Is your job offer still standing?”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next morning, Agatha takes her time. A longer shower. Longer breakfast. Slow drive to the address Vidal had texted her yesterday. She parks her car and immediately hears someone knocking at her window. “Hi!” Vidal signs for her to roll down the driver’s window. “Good morning, Dr. Harkness. I brought you coffee.”

Agatha gets out of the car and takes the coffee. “Look, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here. I’ll be a consultant for whatever matters you have. But I won’t be accessing in any cases directly related to the Witches’ Road. And I’ll not answer any questions you might have either.”

Vidal nods with that same hopeful smile on their face. “I understood that the third time you said, Dr. Harkness. Now, are you ready to meet our Coven?”

They enter the building and comically exit on the 13th floor. The office was small, but somehow cozier than Agatha expected. There was a woman with grey hair fighting with a coffee maker. And a woman in a pink dress is talking with someone over the phone inside the meeting room. Agatha gasps. “Oh, fuck.”

Jen turns around and they lock eyes. She instantly hangs up and walks to them, shaking her head in clear mockery. “How far have you fallen, witchkiller?” Jen asks, contempt dripping in her voice.

“Witchkiller?” Rio asks with that cute little curiosity tone.

“It’s nothing important. Just a stupid nickname,” Agatha dismisses, hoping the questions won’t come up again. “Have you been enjoying being a doctor without a board certification, Kale?”

“I see you know each other.”

Jen grabs Agatha’s forearm and drags her to the meeting room. “Don’t you fucking dare talk to me like that. Ever. Again. Or I’ll fucking slit your throat, Harkness.”

“Come on, Jen. Don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me. You always loved having someone around so you don’t have to get your hands dirty.”

“You’re still as pathetic as I remembered you, Agatha,” Jen says. “What are you doing here? Did you get suspended after sleeping with another student?”

Agatha’s face drops. “I never slept with her, Jen. And you know that.”

“Wait, you didn’t deny! You were suspended from your own university?” Jen claps her hands, laughing. “Oh, karma is a witch, isn’t it?”

“At least, I’ll be back in six months. They refused your appeal to get your certification back, didn’t they?” Agatha strikes back. “Guess that’s what happens when you lead research without an ethics committee approval, right?”

Before Jen can answer, even though her face says enough, Vidal enters the room, followed by the coffee machine lady. “Hi, sorry to interrupt… Alice called. She’ll arrive late.”

“Again?” Jen asks. “That girl is always late! I take punctuality very personally.”

Agatha snorts, winning a side eye from Jen. “Can we start?”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Lilia Calderu. You’re a Harkness, aren't you?”

“Any problem with that?”

“When Rio said a Harkness was joining us, I honestly had my concerns. But seeing it’s you… I now have bigger concerns. So yes, Harkness.”

“It’s Dr. Harkness to you.”

“Okay.” Rio interrupts, taking a seat at the end of the table and opening a folder. “Since it's Dr. Harkness's first day with us, I think we should all introduce ourselves? I’m Rio Vidal, I’m a Pisces who is-”

“Dr. Vidal. This isn’t Tinder. I couldn’t care less about what your astrological signs are. And you already introduced yourself to me, remember? Unfortunately, I already know Jen…nifer. It’s just Lilia and that Alice girl who requires an introduction.”

Rio swallows. “Uh, sure? Lilia, would you like to introduce yourself to Agatha?”

“First, I’m Dr. Calderu to you, not Lilia. I’m a cancer sign,” Lilia says, looking straight at Agatha defiantly. “And I'm a quantum mechanics physicist, a specialist in fourth-dimensional beings and the potential ground study of time variations and their multiversal impacts on the Dark Dimension.”

Agatha can’t contain a sigh. From all the places she had walked into, this was one she wouldn't go with a gun pointed at her head. What the hell was she thinking? Playing Candy Crush was definitely a more respectful way to spend her time and use her neurons.

“What about Alice?” Agatha asks, cutting Lilia off.

“I can introduce her. Alice Gulliver is our safety engineer and risk adviser. Best of her class, good kid.” Vidal sighs, looking nervous as much as hopeful. “Look, I’ve carefully chosen you all for a reason. I hope we can do our best to put our political differences aside and… Help people? That’s what I want out of this at the end of the day,” they say, reopening the folder. “Our first assessment is investigating a client who is currently in prison waiting for trial and claims to have been possessed while committing the crimes.”

“Like a demonic possession?” Lilia asks, writing down in a beaten notepad.

“Possessed by what?” Agatha locks eyes with Vidal.

They give her that annoying smile again.

“Have you ever heard of Jack the Ripper?”