selfhelp | [Action/Written]

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[Billy has never thought of himself as one of those obsessive stalker boyfriends who needs to be attached at the hip to his significant other at all times. Really, he'd always figured they were pretty good about mutual space. A two-month separation with the potential of spending years in this place without seeing Teddy again is, however, apparently the trigger he'd needed to become one, so after one too many looks from Teddy - some patient, others not so much - he'd officially gotten himself banished from the apartment for the afternoon after too much worried lurking. Which is... not the greatest thing ever on a hot day like today, but ten minutes down the road he realizes that, yeah, he'd been a little ridiculous, either blowing off his responsibilities or dragging Teddy along for the ride. He's happy and eager to have Teddy here, but they'd lived separate lives at least half the time back home; no reason for that to not continue here as well.

It's just hard to let go after you've missed someone for that long.

Still, that's how he finds himself out and about for around five hours today, doing the following (in no particular order):

- a late lunch at Seventh Heaven
- searching around the library for comic books
- combat practice in the Battle Dome (with or without his trusty new teacher)

While at the library, a few sketches find their way into his journal, more or less like the following: this, this, and this. Some time afterwards, a scribbled message appears below.]

What are some good ways to deal with bad dreams?

[Once he's finished all his daily stuff, he'll be bringing groceries home around dinner time, in the hopes that he's allowed. Feel free to run into him at any time.]

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[...Well. He really can't argue with that, can he?]

...I hope he doesn't end up here, then. For all our sakes.

Yes.

[For his sake mostly]

Again, its just dreams though. I'm no psychiatrist but given the nature of...well...the situation? Its not that unusual.

I think the worst part is that there's no way to confirm it, so... I can't really deal with it. The Scarlet Witch isn't here, Pandemonium isn't, and Mephisto isn't- not that I'm not grateful. So it comes down to choosing between trying to believe that I'm not who the Super-Skrull said I was, or accepting that my soul or whatever came from some... demon.

[And both options depress him for very different reasons.]

You know, Billy. It isn't like it really...changes anything, if Kl'rt is right. You are you, and if theres something I've learned: its not where you came from, its who you want to be that makes you who you are.

You are the son of Wanda Maximoff, and an Avenger. And that counts for everything.

[He pauses at that, glancing over with surprise and caution in his expression.]

It doesn't... bother you?

[Because it sure as hell bothers him right now. Admittedly he likes the sound of "the son of Wanda Maximoff", but that isn't a good thing for most of the super hero community.]

Why would it? Billy, you've been nothing but kind to me. Until you try and kill me or someone I love, you're good in my book.

[...

Ah, dammit, he's going to start crying again. He fights it, stubbornly and with a smile, because it's just such an unexpected gift, really. She doesn't even know him, but she went and said something like that.

It's reassuring. And it's a small seed planted- one that might eventually grow to make him believe it wholeheartedly. That it doesn't matter.]

...Thanks. Hearing that is- ...thank you. Really.

[Sue sets a hand on his shoulder and offers a friendly, reassuring squeeze]

Billy, I've known Wanda for a very long time. I know she'd be proud to have you as a son, wherever she is. Don't think about all that bad stuff, and have a little faith, alright?

[Proud to have him? That's... a really nice thought. He nods, giving his face a stubborn scrub of his hands, then smacks his forehead to shake it off.]

Right... right. And someday I'll meet her- if I can find her, anyway.

Don't worry about that, either. When we get home, I'll make Reed find her for you if you haven't already.

[Whether he wants to or not]

[Billy falls silent for a moment, his calm faltering again at the name.]

That's okay. I don't... want to owe him any favours.

[He doesn't want to go around badmouthing the guy - he's her husband, after all - but he'd put Billy in that prison. He wants pretty much nothing to do with Reed Richards at this point.]

[She caught that, and has a feeling she knows why]

Don't think of it that way, sweetie. Think of it as me using a resource at my disposal in return for your help. I'm not terribly happy with him myself, you know. I...pretty much destroyed the upper floors of the Baxter Building right before I woke up here.

[...PFFFT what.]

You did?

[Okay, the prospect of witnessing a lover's spat between those two is now terrifying. And he thought his and Teddy's fights were dramatic sometimes...]

Billy, then man turned on the people we've called friends for as long as I can remember. I know a lot of people see me as the quiet, devoted housewife with superpowers, but I do think for myself.

Reed...he...forgets himself sometimes. And does things without talking to the rest of us. And I hate him for it right now.

[...Ouch. Billy doesn't know how to respond to that- the war is such a heavy topic, emotionally, politically, logically, the whole shebang. And truth be told, he's always felt lost in the middle of the it, a teenager in way over his head. He'd just wanted to fight crime, to help people, and he'd ended up in the Cube, and that horrible prison for it... and he can't imagine what it must've been like to be in her shoes in the middle of all that.

He stays silent this time, nodding awkwardly and lifting a hand to unconsciously scratch at his ear. Sometimes it's just better to keep your mouth shut- even as outspoken a person as him knows that.]

Sorry. I...just don't know. What to think about it anymore. So, I snapped. I couldn't bear it, and he kept insisting that I need protection. Like some delicate little bird.

Billy, the man you may have met? That's not Reed Richards. That's someone else.

...W... wait, what? Not him? But it looked exactly like him.

[Who else could it have been?]

Well, there's always the chance it was a Skrull. But what I mean is that its not LIKE him. He's not like this. Something's changed, and I...I can't...even pretend like that's the man I married.

Oh... [Okay, not exactly what she meant. He purses his lips, twisting his hands together awkwardly, then adds-] Stamford changed a lot of things, and... a lot of people. Maybe it was just one disaster too many for them.

[He knows that what happened was wrong, that it should have somehow been prevented. But it was an accident. And the way everything was handled afterwards... it was rushed, and it was wrong, too.]

Stamford did. And it was awful. But it happened because of an accident. What Reed's done was deliberate, and planned. And done without talking to anyone else.

Except for Tony Stark and Hank Pym. I guess that party had limited seating.

[Would've been nice if the supers had had a vote or something. A group meeting. Anything to let them all get involved in what was going to change their lives.]

Don't even get me started on those two. I...don't even know them anymore. After what Hank did to Janet, we haven't spoken in a long, long time. Thinking about it from out here though, it makes me feel less off base about my Skrull theory.

Anyone have a Skrull-sensor handy back home? I know the Super Skrull had something like that.

I'm sure Reed does, and if he doesn't, I've got a feeling I could convince someone to make one. Even Victor...

[Not that she'd want to ask him for help, but if it came down to it?]

Victor? Wait, you mean Victor von Doom?

[That's the only Victor he can think of, and the very idea sounds kind of insane.]

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