𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖. eyes return to wanda after moving her head , a breath taken in as she reassures in the most teenager of ways : ❝ mooom! i’m fine. you don’t have to worry. it’s just a little cut- ❞ nothing too deep , nothing proving she’d need to be stitched up && with little blood. it was just a scratch , pietra might explain , a 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁 wound from having had a few successful blows at the imposter wearing her fathers face. together , they’d done what they could but in the end . . it was her father who had gotten through to him however he did. they’ve won , or so it seemed , && not it was time to go home. billy && tommy were fine , their father fine , && her mother happier than ever. ‘how nice ‘it was to see her smiling , happy , laughing’━pietra thought. smile widens as she exclaims : ❝ i helped dad beat up that white version of him ! did you see that?! he was tougher , but we-we were tougher. ❞ it was more than clear that peitra was 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖉 of herself for what she was able to do. slowly , steadily , that excitement wears away && it’s replaced with something a little more weary or hesitant. ❝ mom . . ❞ she trails , ❝ did i do good? i did my best to . . to look after my brother && help dad. . ❞