[genuinely, this is so strange. people can sympathize with her and her circumstances, acknowledge her pain, but never has she met someone with such parallel understanding of what it's like. wanda feels like a bit of a kid, again, and she moves on the bench so that she's sat facing him, legs crossed under herself, pulling at her skirt to cover her legs.]

I used to have talks with my brother like this.

[back when he was the only one who could understand her. munching on something delicious to make it easier to swallow all that anger and sadness.]

We wanted Sokovia to just be free of war, so we could rebuild and it could go back to what it was... We didn't want it destroyed. [and yet] New York felt like home for a while, for me. [and though this conversation just lands into sadder territory, she tries to correct that.] You ever been?