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Wanda watches from afar as the rest of the Avengers grow overly competitive in the card game they’re playing. Tony and Steve bicker playfully while Sam shuffles but of course, Natasha is the cynosure of the scene.
She’s won more hands of the game than Wanda can count, much to the dismay of everyone else. She does it effortlessly, too. With her, it’s all sly smirks and relaxed positions.
She lays her cards down with an over-exaggerated flourish, satisfied grin crossing her face.
“C’mon Red!” Tony lets out in exasperation, tossing his cards down, “You’ve got to be cheating or something. Check her pockets for extra cards.”
“You’re such a sore loser, Tony.” Natasha replies.
She stands up, turning her coat pockets inside out, complacent smirk growing.
Wanda has to crack a small smile because Natasha looked so adorably triumphant. At that moment, the redhead catches Wanda’s stare from across the room.
Wanda panics momentarily, dropping her gaze to the drink in her hand, gripping the glass so tightly that her rings bite into her fingers.
Being the new person on the team never seemed to get any easier, especially on nights like these. The rest of the Avengers had known each other for a long time and had warmed up somewhat dysfunctionally to one another while Wanda was never sure where she fit.
So she keeps her distance, opting to lean against the counter and watch. She watches Natasha bask in her victories and Steve jokingly punch her arm and get smacked upside the head in return. A pang of longing shoots through her chest, one she pushes down with a swig of her drink.
---
Wanda’s not sure she’ll ever get used to being alone in a new country without her brother looking out for her like he always did. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to be able to see him again, to reach out and pull him into a hug. She’d even take his annoying antics and the dizzying feeling of being swept off her feet when he ran them somewhere. She desperately wishes she was back home in Sokovia side by side with her speedster twin.
Wanda rolls onto her side, clutching a pillow to her chest. She stares out the window for what feels like minutes but was really hours. Her eyes finally close but her mind doesn’t seem to shut off.
---
“Pietro!” She screams, reaching out.
Her feet are cemented in place and all she can do is cry out for her brother while he falls to the ground, bleeding and alone.
“Wanda…” He rasps out.
Suddenly, Ultron appears before her, cold metal hands wrapping around her throat. She gasps, kicking when her feet leave the ground. Her vision goes blurry and she can’t seem to make a sound.
---
Wanda shoots up in a cold sweat, nearly doubling over. She takes gasping breaths, letting ice-cold air fill her lungs. Her room suddenly feels like it’s boiling so she messily throws her blanket off, slipping out of bed. She wraps her arms around herself, padding softly towards the kitchen. The air instantly seems cooler and she exhales heavily.
“Can’t sleep?”
Wanda snaps her head up, eyes wide. She’s only met with the sight of Natasha sitting on the counter, cupping a mug in both hands.
Wanda shakes her head, moving to lean on the counter next to the redhead.
“You look a little shaken.” Natasha observes and Wanda blushes slightly.
“Just…” The brunette hesitates, “A little nightmare.” She finishes somewhat sheepishly.
Natasha hums in response, setting her mug down. She completely understood what it felt like to have the past catch up to you, especially at night when you were left alone to your thoughts.
She reaches out to tuck Wanda’s hair behind her ear, fingers trailing through brown curls lazily.
At first, Wanda wants to lean in. She wants to press closer to Natasha’s side and let her continue to run her fingers through her hair. The nights are hard and lonely and she thinks she could get used to having a comforting warmth beside her.
But just as easily Natasha had reached out, she’d pulled away, and Wanda missed her chance.
“It’s a little late for coffee, isn’t it?” Wanda taps the mug next to the redhead.
Natasha shrugs with one shoulder. Her sleep schedule was more of a freestyle at this point, and having late-night caffeine seemed like the least of her worries.
“You want a cup?” Natasha offers.
Wanda shakes her head. She places her palms on the counter, hoisting herself up to sit next to Natasha.
“Can I just sit with you for a while?” Wanda asks demurely.
“Sure, malyshka.” Natasha murmurs somewhat absently, too distracted by the thought that Wanda even wanted to be in her company.
The nickname slips out easily from Natasha but seems to take all the air from Wanda’s lungs. She decides not to comment but takes consolation in the fact that she’d earned a soft nickname at all from someone normally so guarded with their affection.
“When Pietro and I were younger, we used to stay up late to look at the stars,” Wanda starts, looking out the window wistfully, “He loved to point out all the constellations to me.”
“That’s sweet.” Natasha offers Wanda a small smile.
Wanda gives a sad smile in return. Natasha can’t begin to say she understands what it’s like to lose your family and your home so suddenly because she never had a family or a home to return to.
Natasha snaps out of her thoughts when she catches tears forming in Wanda’s eyes, diluting their normal sparkling green color into a dull jade.
“I’m really sorry about what happened.” She tries in what hopes is a comforting tone.
Her heart hammers in her chest when Wanda’s tears spill over. Seeing the other girl cry makes her feel uncharacteristically useless. She has to make it stop.
“Tell me about the constellations.” Natasha tries again desperately.
A distraction. It’s the only thing she can think of to try.
Wanda looks up at her almost questioningly but ends up nodding.
“O-okay.”
Natasha slides down from the counter, holding her hand out for Wanda to follow. She takes it, falling to her feet with a gentle thud.
She pulls Wanda towards the window by the hand, ignoring the foreign feeling of Wanda’s fingers laced through hers. Not foreign as in bad but as in new and uncharted.
Natasha tunes back in when Wanda uses her free hand to point to a bright, twinkling star in the sky. She shifts her weight towards the other girl, resting their hands against her hip.
She listens to Wanda talk for a long time, nodding her head at the right times and following the shapes the other girl pointed out to her. But if she was being honest with herself, she was more focused on Wanda and not the stars.
She doesn’t think she can be blamed though. If anything, it’s Wanda's fault for being as captivating as she is.
After a while, Wanda’s words grow slurred and her voice gets raspy. Her grip on Natasha’s hand loosens. The redhead gently catches Wanda’s waist, hushing her softly.
“You should go back to bed.” Natasha says sensibly, faintly pushing her in that direction.
Wanda nods but she’s not sure she’s ready to leave the other girl’s grasp.
“Go, Maximoff,” Natasha untangles herself from the brunette, “You know where to find me if you need me again.”
Natasha’s hand falls back to her side as she gives her one last soft smile. Wanda trudges towards her bedroom, falling heavily into her bed.
“You know where to find me if you need me again.” Natasha’s words run through Wanda’s mind on repeat until she falls back asleep.
---
Wanda drags herself into the kitchen the next morning, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
She pours herself a steaming mug of tea, inhaling the scent of mint and feeling a bit more awake.
Her mind wanders to the previous night, slightly embarrassed that she’d admitted to having nightmares, more so that she cried. However, she can’t say she regretted running into Natasha.
The infamous redhead then strolls into the room as if Wanda had magically conjured her, followed by none other than Captain America.
They’re laughing, pushing each other teasingly until they see Wanda. Steve flashes her a wide smile that Wanda can’t help but match.
“Maximoff.” Natasha greets without much emotion, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
It’s as if Natasha had forgotten all about the previous night they shared and was back to just being more of a co-worker than a friend.
“Romanoff.” Wanda replies evenly.
“Can you get me one?” Steve calls to Natasha.
“No.”
“You’re seriously the most annoying person in the world.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“You’re just mad because I won our sparring match today.”
“You got a lucky shot in,” Steve grumbles while Natasha smirks ever so exultantly, “Now move it.”
He grabs her waist, physically moving her out of his way, grinning playfully. Natasha doesn’t put up much of a fight, rather, she just laughs.
All Wanda can do is watch and let a ripple of jealousy go through her. Jealousy that Natasha and Steve just fit and that she’s on the outside.
---
For the next few days, Wanda carries around the rancorous feeling that the night Natasha had taken care of her was simply a fluke, a quondam evening. An even more bitter part of her tells her she’s destined to be alone forever. She does her best to not interact with anyone because it all feels so superficial to her.
Nighttime seems to be the hardest. It’s always just a little too quiet and her thoughts are always just a little too loud. She tosses and turns tempestuously, throwing her head back against her pillow. She manages to stay still for a whopping five seconds before she sits up in exasperation.
Wanda slides to her feet, making her way towards the living room. She stops short when she catches a redhead already there, sitting on the couch.
“Hey.” Natasha calls out before Wanda can turn around.
“Hey.”
Natasha motions for her to come over and Wanda’s feet seem to be moving without her permission.
Natasha stands up, resting her weight on one foot.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Wanda freezes momentarily because she didn’t think Natasha would have noticed, but of course, she did, she’s extremely observant.
All Wanda can do is cast her gaze downward and shrugs half-heartedly.
“I meant it, you know,” Natasha starts, earning a confused look from the brunette, “You can always come find me if you need something.” She elucidates.
Wanda nods almost imperceptibly.
“Then maybe you’ll stay out here with me for a little while?” The brunette asks softly, nodding towards the couch.
“Of course,” Natasha agrees, “But I’m going to make some coffee first.”
“With all this late-night caffeine it’s no wonder you never sleep.” Wanda chides teasingly.
The redhead chuckles.
“Spare me the lecture, you can’t change me.”
“I wouldn’t want to change you.” Wanda flashes a small smile that Natasha matches.
The two spend hours on the couch, Natasha nursing her cup while Wanda flips through tv channels, settling on rerun episodes of old sitcoms. Wanda steals glances at Natasha out of the corner of her eye, heart fluttering in her chest.
---
Natasha’s not quite sure how she even got roped into it, but the next night she finds herself sitting knee to knee with Wanda, hazily focused on the sitcom they were watching while Wanda paints her nails in a dark red color.
Wanda has her hair pulled into a ponytail that really does nothing because loose strands fall into her eyes anyway. She blows them out of her face distractedly, instead focused on Natasha’s hand in her own.
Natasha’s fingertips brush softly against Wanda’s palm as she pulls her hand up to admire the polish. She shifts wordlessly, sliding her other hand into Wanda’s.
The witch throws an understated smile Natasha’s way that she returns. The redhead can definitely apprentice the easy and relaxed silence between them. She settles back on the couch, turning her attention to the television while Wanda works.
“There.” Wanda announces a few minutes later, holding her own hand out next to Natasha’s.
Now they sported matching deep crimson nail polish and Natasha had to admit she liked the color. Wanda tilts her head before taking one of the silver rings from her middle finger and sliding it over Natasha’s.
“Now we really match.”
The sincerity of the moment is not lost on Natasha. She bites her lip to keep from breaking out into a grin because although the gesture wasn’t particularly grand, it warmed her heart in a way she wasn’t used to.
---
Clint is the first to notice Wanda and Natasha’s newfound closeness, despite its subtlety. He catches them leaning into each other when they’re with the rest of the team, sees Wanda making Natasha a cup of coffee in the morning, and watches them exist in a fresh consonance, like the sun and the moon.
---
Wanda studies Steve and Clint, who are attempting to cook dinner in harmony. But, they were the exact opposite of harmonious. They bumped into each other, struggled to read recipes and to find the ingredients they wanted, much to the amusement of Natasha, who was sitting on the counter.
The witch leans in the doorway, arms crossed. Though she still felt slightly extrinsic, it was impossible not to smile at the trio’s comical exchanges.
“Hey, Maximoff,” Natasha calls, “Stop lurking.”
The brunette freezes momentarily until she catches the playful expression on Natasha’s face.
Wanda bites her lip, chuckling to herself softly. The redhead beckons for her to come over, so Wanda slides between the chaos that is Steve and Clint, reaching Natasha’s side.
“You have to chop it smaller than that.” Clint tells Steve, who sighs.
“Easier said than done.”
Natasha reaches out, grabbing Wanda’s shoulders to pull her closer. Wanda’s back hits the counter between Natasha’s legs and the redhead drapes her arm over her shoulders.
“You guys suck at this.” Natasha rests her chin on top of Wanda’s head, throwing a smirk Steve and Clint’s way.
“Maybe you could actually help.” Clint retorts.
“I’m supervising.” She waves her hand dismissively.
Wanda’s too distracted to join the banter. A feeling of pure and unadulterated warmth goes through her body, heart swelling with fondness for the redhead. She can only hope her grin isn’t too dopey as she moves to rest her elbows back on Natasha’s knees.
She tunes back into the conversation, hearing Steve and Clint debate about what spices to add to their meal.
Natasha chuckles at them, picking her chin up. Wanda takes the opportunity to tilt her head to look up at the redhead.
“Enjoy this, it’s the only time you’ll be taller than me.” Wanda teases, reaching out to tap the countertop, feeling more at ease.
Clint snorts in laughter, pointing at Natasha with the wooden spoon in his hand.
“You’ve been the same height since you were twelve, haven’t you Nat?” He derides, smirking.
Natasha scoffs, flipping him off from over Wanda’s shoulder.
The brunette giggles, what little bitterness she had left fading away. She thinks that maybe, just maybe , she isn’t so alone in the world anymore.
---
“So you and Wanda seem to be getting close.” Clint says to Natasha one day when they’re alone in the kitchen.
Natasha studies Clint for a moment and he can practically see the gears turning in her head, though he’s not even sure what there is to think so hard about.
“And?” She bites, bristling slightly.
She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so defensive. Her bond with Wanda felt sacred, something she wanted to keep purely between the two of them. Having others meddle in it felt wrong.
“And you don’t have to get defensive with me, Nat,” Clint brushes off her harshness with ease, “Because you two would be cute together.”
“W-What?” Natasha sputters without thinking, eyes widening, “It’s not like that.”
Is it like that?
“Sure it’s not.” Clint retorts smugly.
Normally, his smugness would make her want to smack him, but her head is spinning too fast to do so. She’s not the relationship type of person. She’s not good at it, being open with someone and communicating freely. Besides, her relationship with Wanda was platonic.
Right?
Her newfound need to cosset Wanda suddenly feels confusing. Why does she feel that way? What does it mean? She needs air.
Natasha turns away from Clint without another word, making her way towards the elevator in the hallway. She taps her foot impatiently while she waits.
“Hey, Nat.”
Wanda calls out to her, voice warm and sweet like honey and it makes Natasha melt.
“Where are you going?”
“Just… for a walk.” The redhead replies, attempting to hide the uncertainness she was feeling.
“Can I come?” Wanda asks sweetly, linking her arm through Natasha’s.
No, because apparently I have feelings for you and I haven’t come to terms with that.
“Sure, malyshka.”
The elevator dings, doors sliding open. The two step in and Natasha exhales softly, trying to calm her racing heart.
Just be normal, Romanoff, God, what is wrong with you?
“You know,” Natasha begins, pulling at the red leather sleeve of Wanda’s jacket, “This looks familiar…” She throws the brunette a knowing look, raising one eyebrow.
Wanda looks down at it, then remembering that it was in fact Natasha’s jacket she’d been wearing since she’d first joined the Avengers. She starts to shrug it off.
“You can have it back.”
Natasha stops her, pulling the jacket back up.
“I was just messing with you,” She runs her hands across Wanda’s shoulder, “Keep it. It looks cute on you anyways.”
Wanda’s cheeks turn pink and she attempts to hide it by turning her head away. The elevator dings again, breaking the moment. They make their way outside, basking in the cool evening air.
Wanda reaches out to lace her fingers through Natasha’s, swinging their hands between the two of them carelessly. She’s content and the radiant smile she’s wearing shows it. It makes Natasha soften as they stroll aimlessly.
She lets Wanda talk about anything on her mind, from her favorite books to how her mother taught her how to cook. She prefers it, honestly, because she’s not sure she could talk without divulging that she cares about Wanda in a way she doesn’t understand. Her head is jumbled and she despises it.
“Is something wrong?”
Wanda stops, spinning on her heel to stand directly in front of Natasha. She moves to take the redhead’s other hand.
“No. Nothing’s wrong.” Natasha answers almost too quickly.
Yes, something is wrong. I don’t trust myself to not blurt out that I think you're insanely adorable.
“Okay. You just seemed a little out of it.”
Natasha shakes her head.
“Nope. I’m fine. Keep telling me about those stupid rom-coms you like.”
---
Wanda understands that the Avengers have a duty to the world but she can’t help but be disappointed that Natasha was called away on a mission. It’s only for a few days but she instantly feels the emptiness of not having the redhead by her side. It also forces her to examine her feelings towards Natasha.
Am I really that attached to her that I can’t be apart from her for a few days?
She’s allowed to miss the person she spends every night with, the person who cared for her.
She decides that doesn’t want to think too hard about it because she doesn’t want to ruin their friendship by overthinking it.
---
“Natasha!”
The superspy was finally back from her mission. Wanda closes the last few steps between them, throwing her arms around the redhead.
Natasha takes solace in the feeling of Wanda’s fingertips ghosting lightly across her back and her chin resting on her shoulder gently. She sighs into Wanda’s hair, closing her eyes for a long moment.
“It’s like you missed me or something.” Natasha teases, pulling back marginally.
Wanda’s hands trail to Natasha’s shoulders.
“Of course I missed you.” The witch admits honestly.
Natasha chuckles slightly, not willing to admit that a feeling of affection had risen in her chest. Wanda shifts her weight to one foot, smiling softly at the redhead.
“Go shower and change,” Wanda emphasizes her command by pulling at the hourglass belt around Natasha’s waist, “I’ll make you dinner.”
“Yes ma’am.” Natasha gives Wanda a mock salute, slipping away.
Once she’s out of Wanda’s line of sight, she breaks into a propitious smile.
---
Over the next few days, Wanda and Natasha fall back into their old patterns. They share sleepy smiles in the morning over cups of coffee and spend nights sprawled across the couch watching sitcoms, kvelling in each other's presence.
Wanda’s safe enough to say she’s happy, save for the nightmares that haunt her every time the darkness falls. On this particular night, the fear stops her from ever fully falling asleep and forces her eyes to snap open every time she gets close. She sits up with a sigh and a frown, padding towards the living room.
Her frown grows when she finds it empty, void of the redheaded spy who normally occupied it at any late hour of the night. She turns back down the hall.
Wanda hesitates outside of Natasha's door, hand poised to knock but unable to follow through. She lets her hand fall to her side, simply staring at the wood. It almost seems mocking.
She shakes her head, finally gaining the courage to knock. The sound is too loud in the hushed night and she winces, mentally chiding herself.
“Come in.”
Wanda hesitates again before gently pushing the door open.
“I’m sorry it’s late, you’re usually up, and…” Wanda trails off.
And you’re the only one I want to go to.
Natasha lay on her stomach, blanket bunched at her waist. She doesn’t need to look to know that Wanda is standing there, frozen in place in her oversized hoodie and fluffy polka dot socks and awaiting an invitation.
“C’mere Maximoff.” Natasha mumbles, voice heavy with sleep.
Without opening her eyes, she holds her arm out until Wanda obliges, sliding into place. Natasha drops her arm around the other girl, reaching up to run her nails across Wanda’s collarbone lightly.
Wanda lets out a soft sigh of contentment that makes Natasha smile lazily. She closes her eyes, reveling in the feeling of Natasha’s fingertips against her skin until she falls asleep, safe in the presence of her redheaded salvation.
---
Wanda releases a deep breath, blinking slowly. The sunlight drifts through the curtains in a dreamy haze and she notices the light rays make Natasha look completely angelic. It illuminates her hair, giving it an unreal glow and highlights her face.
Wanda can’t help herself. She reaches out to run her fingertip along Natasha’s jawline delicately, heart fluttering. Her hand trails up to smooth messy strands of auburn hair.
Natasha stirs, leaning into Wanda’s touch. Her eyes open, catching the sunlight, making cerulean pupils glitter.
“You’re beautiful.” Wanda blurts out before she can even think about what she’s saying.
She immediately pulls her hand back to cover her mouth, eyes widening like she’d said something unspeakable, not like she’d given a compliment. She thinks surely that Natasha must be used to hearing that but the blush that spreads across the redhead’s cheeks makes Wanda think otherwise. It makes her vow to change that.
“Quite the charmer, aren’t you, Maximoff?” Natasha chuckles.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“You didn’t mean to say you think I’m beautiful?” Natasha interrupts an already flustered Wanda.
“No! I meant that!” Wanda squeaks out, discomposed.
Am I allowed to mean that?
Natasha only hums in response.
“I just meant sorry for saying it so suddenly.”
Another hum. Wanda shakes her head at the non-verbal reply.
“You’re insanely frustrating, you know that?”
That makes Natasha laugh genuinely and purely as she props herself up one elbow.
“Well, you’re no walk in the park either.” Natasha counters indignantly, unable to keep her smirk at bay.
Wanda scoffs in mock annoyance, dissolving into laughter when she can’t keep a serious face.
---
The month of February proved to be difficult for Wanda with her upcoming birthday, a day she should have been sharing with her brother. A day that should have spent back home in Sovokia at each other’s side, sharing a cake, while he claimed that since he was twelve minutes older, he deserved to get a bigger slice. They should have been presenting each other with messily wrapped gifts. He should have been hugging her so tightly she’d beg him to loosen his grip so she could breathe, which would only make him hold her tighter and spin her around before setting her back on her feet, dizzy and breathless. He’d laugh at her unbalanced state and she’d lunge for him unsteadily, knowing she could never really catch him but trying anyways.
February in New York with the Avengers only provides rainy weather and gray days. Her days blend together in a slide of despondency. She doesn’t tell anyone about her birthday and prays that they won’t find out. Celebrating it seemed like a cruel reminder of losing her sibling, like salt in a still open wound.
Natasha instantly notices. She sees Wanda’s smiles stop reaching her eyes, eyes that were always red from lack of sleep, eyes that housed immense pain if Natasha focused on them long enough. She supposes recovery isn’t linear but seeing Wanda fall back into despair shatters her heart into a million tiny pieces.
Natasha tries her best to be there for Wanda without being overbearing. She reaches out for Wanda’s hand under the table when they’re with the rest of the team, gets up early to bring her a cup of tea in the morning, and holds her a little tighter when she falls asleep on the couch. She’s also there for the restless nights, a rock through the nightmares and uneasy dreams.
Wanda’s not sure she’ll ever be able to express her gratitude to Natasha, at least not when she still feels so numb. She hopes her mouthed “thank you”’s and soft reserved smiles that she can hardly muster up are enough for now.
Tonight, she’s barely aware of the movie playing. She’s only aware of her crushing thoughts, weighing her down like an anchor. She stares blankly at the tv screen, not actually processing it.
“I’m here if you want to talk, you know.” Natasha tells Wanda gently, pulling her stare.
Wanda’s breath catches.
“I know,” Tears prick the corner of her eyes, “I just don’t know how to put it into words.”
She lets out a shuddering sigh, reaching out for Natasha’s hand. She looks downwards, absently twisting the silver ring around Natasha’s middle finger. Thinking back to the carefree evening she’d given it to her, Wanda’s able to will her tears away.
“That’s okay.”
Wanda moves to lay her head in Natasha’s lap, closing her eyes. Natasha reaches out to run her fingers through Wanda’s hair, lulling the brunette into much needed sleep.
---
Wanda surveys the space around her, spinning slowly.
“Wanda!”
She whips around.
“Pietro?” Her voice cracks unintentionally.
“Who else would it be, idiot?”
Her brother smiles at her from the kitchen of her childhood home. Her parents are the next to appear, blissfully happy. On the splintered dining table sat a small vanilla cake frosted in blue icing.
“Do you want a slice of birthday cake or what?” Her father asks.
Wanda finally breaks into a smile. It’s perfect. She’s home with her family again.
She’s only able to take one step before the world around them starts shaking. Fear flashes in her eyes and she reaches out instinctively for her brother. Her fear intensifies when she only grasps air.
Suddenly, she was falling as their apartment building collapsed, shrouded in smoke and fire. She cries out for her family, reeling impossibly fast. Scarlet mist appears around her hands but there’s no one for her to save with her powers. In a flash she’s on the ground, scrambling to feet.
Wanda looks around wildly, chest heaving with uneven breaths. She gasps when she spots her family. Their bodies lay still, eyes wide and unblinking. She crashes to her knees next to them, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Please,” She chokes out, “You can’t leave me here alone!”
---
“Maximoff, it’s okay!”
Someone calls out to her, but they seem far away. Scarlet red appears in her vision and her fingertips burn with power she can’t get under control.
“It’s okay,” A soothing voice repeats to her slowly, “It’s okay.”
Somebody’s hands take hers gently and the scarlet begins to fade, replaced with a different red.
Natasha’s fiery red hair is the first thing Wanda is able to focus on. Her heart pounds in her ears deafeningly.
Natasha brings her hands up to cup Wanda’s cheeks, brushing away her tears with her thumbs. She waits patiently for Wanda to catch her breath before speaking again.
“Another nightmare?” She questions softly, already knowing the answer.
Wanda nods, dropping the other girl’s gaze.
“You okay now?”
Another nod, though it lacked confidence. Natasha brushes the back of her hand against Wanda’s cheek gently. Fresh tears form in her eyes at the affection. She stands up abruptly.
“I’m going to go to bed.”
“Oh,” Natasha looks slightly surprised, but she quickly schools her features back into neutrality, “Okay.”
Wanda all but runs to her room and throws herself onto her bed, covering her face with her hands.
What the hell is wrong with you?!
She screams at herself internally, unable to understand her own actions. She cannot fathom her sudden need to be alone, despite the fact that she simultaneously craved companionship. Her own mind feels like the enemy. Wanda curls up on her side, burying her face in her pillow while resisting the urge to cry enough tears to create an entire new ocean.
---
Wanda spends February 10th, her 27th birthday, completely alone. The day seems to drown her, suffocating her until she feels like she can’t stand up. She squanders most of the time in bed, staring blankly at the wall while letting silent tears slide down her cheeks. Her mind is noisy to an extent that smothers her. She thinks about Pietro, her parents, Sovokia, and the fact that everything she’d loved had been ripped away. It’s devastating, to say the least. She’s vaguely aware that the sky grows dark but can’t bring it in herself to get up until she starts feeling nauseous from not eating all day.
Wanda quietly pads to the kitchen. She leans against the counter for a moment, squeezing her eyes closed tightly to quell the dizziness she was feeling.
“Are you okay?”
Wanda whips around only to quite literally bump into Natasha, who quickly reaches out to catch her waist, a steadying touch.
“I’m fine,” Wanda replies automatically, only to reconsider when the redhead raises an eyebrow, “I’m not fine.”
Natasha gives her a sympathetic look.
“Can I do anything to help?”
Wanda lets out a shuddering sigh. She’s not sure what would help other than being able to go back in time. She’ll have to settle for less.
“Split a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with me on the back steps?”
“Anything for you, malyshka.”
Natasha’s hands fall from Wanda’s waist and the witch immediately mourns the loss of contact. The two move in silence until they settle down on the back stairs of the compound, each with half of a sandwich in their hands. The moon shines brightly and clearly in the pitch-black sky and the wind blows softly, rustling the tree branches. Natasha dusts the bread crumbs from her hands before leaning her shoulder against Wanda’s.
“I haven’t seen you all day.” Natasha mentions breezily.
Wanda takes a bite of her sandwich to avoid responding. She pops the last of it in her mouth before wiping her hands on her skirt. Feelings of guilt and sorrow rise in her chest and she finally meets Natasha’s gaze.
Suddenly, Wanda can’t hold it in any longer. Tears spring into her eyes and she feels like spilling all the grief she was holding onto.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks sincerely, concern written across her face.
“When I was falling in Sovokia…” Wanda starts, sniffling, “It almost felt… freeing. And I was ready to let it happen.”
“Wanda…”
“I’ve lost everyone,” Wanda chokes on her own words, “They’re gone and I’m here.”
Natasha’s stomach twists into tight knots and she wants to scream at the universe. Scream that it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, none of it was. The pain is something Natasha can’t protect Wanda from and it’s tearing her apart.
“It’s my birthday today, you know. Mine and Pietro’s. But he’s gone.”
“I’m sorry.” Natasha knows that those two words won’t help at all but she’s not sure what else to say.
She can’t imagine the ache the witch must be feeling, growing older without her family and battling the despair alone.
Wanda closes her eyes, hiding her face against the other girl's shoulder. She feels Natasha reach out to trace absent-minded patterns against her thigh where the hem of her skirt doesn’t reach the top of her knee socks.
“I understand,” The redhead begins softly, “Before I joined the Avengers, I felt like giving up. Giving in.”
Natasha then feels Wanda tense against her but takes relief in the fact that she doesn’t open her eyes. She doesn’t think she could look in Wanda’s mesmerizing verdant eyes and not break down in complete tears.
“I felt like I had no one in this world who gave a genuine damn about me and sometimes it still feels like that, like I don’t belong here and I’m alone.”
Wanda’s eyes snap open when Natasha’s voice breaks and she picks her head up.
“Nat, that’s not--”
It’s not true, you’re not alone. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met and you don’t give yourself enough credit and it literally makes me angry that you don’t understand that.
“I’m just saying,” Natasha cuts in before Wanda can say another word, “I can’t tell you the pain is ever going to fully go away because then I’d be lying to you. But it gets easier to manage.”
Natasha finally meets Wanda’s stare, resisting the urge to look away and close herself back up. Wanda is instantly starstruck by the woman in front of her. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but suddenly every word in her vocabulary leaves her brain.
All she can do is wrap her arms around Natasha’s waist and tuck her head under her chin, pulling the two of them closer together than they already were, and cry . Cry for herself, for Natasha, for the whole damn world. Natasha grinds her teeth together, willing her own tears not to fall.
It doesn’t work. They silently slide down her cheeks and into Wanda’s hair but the brunette doesn’t seem to notice.
Natasha’s not sure how long they sit there, holding each other and shedding tears for things they could never fix. Wanda feels like her head is filled with cotton balls and her limbs seem heavy. Natasha is the first to move.
She starts to stand up, slipping one arm under Wanda’s thighs, pulling her up as well. Wanda reflexively wraps her legs around Natasha’s waist and her arms around her shoulders. It all feels unreal to Wanda, like she’d somehow slipped into a fake reality. She doesn’t want to fight it.
She lets Natasha carry her to bed, tuck the blanket around her shoulders and turn off the bedside lamp. Natasha goes to turn away but Wanda reaches to grab her wrist.
“Natasha…”
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You don’t know it but you’re my savior.
Wanda can’t get any of those words out. She settles for pulling Natasha down close enough that she can press a soft kiss to her cheek, hoping it conveyed what she was thinking.
Natasha straightens up with an almost bittersweet smile.
“Goodnight, Maximoff.”
I love you, Natasha.
“Goodnight, Romanoff.”
---
When Wanda wakes up the next morning, her first and only thought is Natasha. She has to find the infamous redhead and tell her everything she was really thinking because she couldn’t keep it in any longer.
Wanda’s walking so fast that she almost slips on the hardwood because of her socks. She steadies herself on the wall, dragging her fingertips against it as she continues, a grounding touch.
She makes her way to Natasha’s room, frowning that the door was open but the girl in question wasn’t there. Her next stop is the kitchen. Steve and Sam were chatting, holding mugs of coffee.
“Hey, Wanda.” Steve greets her warmly.
“Where’s Nat?” She ignores pleasantries.
“She and Clint got called away on a mission,” He replies slowly, “They’ll be back in a few days.”
Wanda’s shoulders fall, visibly disappointed.
“Oh.” Is all she can say before turning away, ignoring the questioning looks Sam and Steve were giving her. She’s positive she looks like a mess in yesterday’s clothes and mascara smudged around her eyes, but she can’t find it in herself to care.
Of course. Of course, she gets called away because that’s just my luck.
Wanda’s thoughts were splenetic. She makes her way back to her room, picking up her phone. She debates calling Natasha but almost immediately decides that that's a horrible idea. First, she’s not even sure what to say and secondly, it didn’t seem like the kind of thing you tell someone over the phone.
She falls backward onto her bed, sighing.
What do I even say to her?
---
Wanda spends the next few days agonizing over every minute she’s away from Natasha and debating the right words to profess to her. She begins thinking of how much she values Natasha always being there for her when she can’t be there for herself, and that without her she’s sure her grief would have swallowed her whole already. Natasha’s her humanity, her saving grace, her light in the dark and that seems like an important thing to include in her speech.
It’s at that moment that her phone buzzes, snapping her out of her reprieve.
Natasha: I’ll be home in a few hours :)
Natasha: And I’m glad for that b/c Clint is annoying the hell out of me
Wanda chuckles to herself, soft smile spreading across her face.
---
Wanda waits impatiently for Natasha, pacing by the panel of glass windows that overlook the landing strip. Raindrops pelt the glass evenly, echoing in Wanda’s ears. She just about cries out for joy when she hears the rumble of the engine as the quinjet begins to descend to the ground. Wanda flies towards the door, skidding to a stop before she enters the rain.
Clint is the first one Wanda’s able to see. Natasha’s the next to emerge. Once the redhead spots Wanda, she visibly brightens despite the dreary weather.
Wanda swears she had a whole speech prepared. She really did, but the moments she sees Natasha it all changes. Natasha gives her that signature slightly crooked smile of hers and Wanda is gone.
She’s closing the gap between them, going as fast as her feet will carry her. The only sound is the pouring rain and her boots slapping against the pavement. Natasha’s eyes widen in surprise when Wanda shows no signs of slowing down and her first impulse is to hold her arms out for the witch.
“Maximoff, what--”
Natasha has no chance to finish her sentence. Wanda leaps, crashing into Natasha hard as she wraps her legs around her waist. Reflexively, the redhead’s hands come to the back of the other girl’s thighs, though astonished she hadn’t fallen over from the force. Regardless, she’s not sure she would have cared if she did. Not when Wanda’s kissing her so fiercely, conveying all the words neither of them know how to say.
It’s not perfect. Natasha’s grip is slipping and Wanda has to lean down a fair amount for their lips to even meet, all while cold raindrops hit their faces. They both forget to breathe, leaving themselves light-headed from the rush of the moment. So, it’s certainly not perfect, but it’s definitely just right.
Wanda finally falls back onto her feet, hands dropping from Natasha’s flushed cheeks to her sides as she takes a step back.
“Sorry,” She breathes out, “I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”
Natasha shakes her head, chuckling.
“It doesn’t matter now.” She drapes her arms over Wanda’s shoulders to pull her closer as she stands up on her toes.
Natasha kisses Wanda again fervently, breathlessly, letting the world around them fade away. She only pulls back when Wanda starts to giggle.
“What?”
“You’re so cute and tiny,” Wanda snickers teasingly, “You really have to stand on your toes to kiss me.”
Natasha exhales heavily, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’ll hesitate to deck you right now.”
Wanda has no doubt that Natasha absolutely could and would, but she’s too ecstatic to care. It doesn’t matter that they’re both drenched from the rain and freezing because the new sense of peace she feels is greater than that.
Natasha’s positive she’s blushing, not that she can feel it in the cold. But it’s impossible not to when Wanda’s looking at her like she’s the center of the entire universe, beautiful and unique.
“Hey!”
Wanda and Natasha turn around.
“Do you two want to finish that inside? You’re going to catch colds.” Clint calls to them from the door, smirking knowingly.
---
Hours later, the Avengers compound was quiet, the only sound being the raindrops hitting the windows, creating a calming white noise.
Wanda and Natasha had yet to leave each other’s sides, save for the hot showers to warm up. Now in dry clothes and under multiple blankets in bed, they let the space around them become hazy.
Wanda’s wonderfully blissful as she runs her fingers through Natasha’s hair repeatedly, studying her face unashamedly. Natasha on the other hand was half asleep, blanket pulled to her chin.
“Natasha?”
“Hmm?” She hums without opening her eyes.
“For the record, I love you, too,” Wanda says softly, “Even if you’re going to get mad at me every time I make fun of your height.”
Natasha laughs sleepily.
“I just don’t think you realize everything you’ve done for me,” Wanda continues, “Everything that makes me really, really, love you.”
“Maximoff,” Natasha blindly throws her arm across Wanda’s waist, dragging her closer, “I realize now. But enough of the lovey-dovey shit for now.”
Wanda has to laugh because it’s an entirely Natasha thing to say. She knows they’ll have plenty more “lovey-dovey” moments if the way Natasha’s cuddled up against her is any indicator.
So for the time being, she basks in the warmth, her mind finally quiet and her body wholly relaxed until she falls asleep next to the one person she can count on forever.