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Wanda's so tired that she almost doesn’t notice the little girl and her conversation. She’s spent the last four days doing almost non-stop Avengers field work, and now it’s seven pm on a Tuesday and she’s wearing flannel pajamas at a 7-Eleven; she wants nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed and wait for Vision to get home from his field mission - New York just gets weirder by the day, honestly, those purple slime aliens last week were brutal, and apparently October is open season for any and all crime across the Eastern Seaboard this year, what even is life anymore without constant alien invasions and crazy Latverian dictators - but first what she wants is to drink her weight in hot chocolate, and they’re out of milk, so. 7-Eleven pajama run, barely seven pm at night. She has no shame. Not after living in New York for this many years.
Anyways, she’s exhausted to her bones and juggling a gallon of milk and gummy bears and salt and vinegar potato chips when she hears, from behind her, a small voice pipe up, “I wanna go as the Scarlet Witch for Halloween!”
Wanda almost drops the milk. Slowly, she half-turns where she’s in the middle of the line and watches from her periphery as a little girl happily chatters at the man holding her hand, probably her father, who hems and haws appropriately at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “The Scarlet Witch, huh?” he asks, fond. “You think she’s pretty cool?”
The little girl, who looks like she’s maybe around seven or eight, nods happily. “The coolest!” she squeals. “She was so awesome when she took out all those scary purple aliens last week. She just -” the little girl makes a wild gesture with her hand that Wanda realizes is meant to emulate the way she moves her own hands when conjuring her magic - “waves her hand and boom! She saved all those people! She’s my hero, and I wanna be just like her when I grow up!”
Wanda’s chest feels funny. Her eyes are burning. The cashier waves her up to the counter and she shakily sets her items down and fumbles out her credit card, still listening to the conversation behind her while trying not to look like a creeper.
“Do they even make Scarlet Witch costumes?” the man asks.
“Duh, Daddy, they make them for all the Avengers! Me and Mommy saw this cool one at the Halloween store by the house and it looks just like her new armor! Can I please, please get it? Mommy said I have to ask you since I’ll be with you for Halloween.”
“Sure, honey, as long as it’s okay with your mother.”
The little girl squeals. “Have a nice day,” the cashier says, smiling, and Wanda nods dumbly as she leaves the store, lost for words.
She replays the conversation all the way home, dizzy and running on fumes and overly emotional from sleep deprivation, but she doesn’t quite realize that she’s crying until she walks through the door and Vision, who must have just gotten back himself, turns to her with a smile that quickly turns into an alarmed expression as he rushes to take the paper bag from her hands. “Wanda!” he says, propping the bag on one hip as he raises the other to wipe her face, and Wanda sniffles embarrassingly loud. “Darling, what happened? Are you alright?”
Wanda rubs her face and lets out a giggle, and Vision blinks in confusion. “You’re home,” she says.
“Yes,” he says, setting down the bag now so he can cup her face in both hands. “And you’re crying.”
Wanda manages a smile. “Happy tears,” she chokes, “they’re happy tears, I promise, just - give me a second.”
Vision’s shoulders relax just a little, his face softening, and he nods before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Wanda leans into his chest, shutting her eyes and sighing contentedly when he wraps his arms around her so she can burrow closer. She’s so tired, and she’s emotional, and she’s so happy he’s home. “There was a little girl at 7-Eleven,” she murmurs softly, and Vision hums supportively as he rubs her back. “She… she was talking about me. The Scarlet Witch, at least, she didn’t know it was me standing there. She said… she said that she wants to go as me for Halloween because I’m her hero.” Saying the words make her choke up again, and she presses her face tighter against Vision’s warm chest.
Vision makes a soft sound. “That’s wonderful,” he says.
Wanda nods, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I never… I never thought I’d be anyone’s hero.”
Vision pulls back and cups her face again, looking at her with very serious eyes. “Of course you’re a hero,” he says, matter of fact.
Wanda licks her lips. “I wasn’t always, though,” she points out. “I was - I worked for Hydra, and I did - awful things in Johannesburg, and to Sokovia.” She shrugs, aiming for casual, but Vision’s eyes flash with understanding. “I just… when I joined the Avengers, it was never about being a hero, it was about making a difference, making things right, the way I should have been from the very beginning. I never imagined that there would be little girls who - who think of me as a role model, or a hero, who want to be me for Halloween, and. I don’t know. It’s a lot.” She smiles. “A good lot, really, but a lot.”
“I’m glad,” Vision says softly. “You deserve the recognition, darling.”
“I… I can’t wait to see little girls dressing up as me. It sounds a little narcissistic, but god. I never could have dreamed of this as a kid in Sokovia…” She shakes her head, amazed at how far she’s come, a dizzy sort of happiness bubbling up in her belly. “I spent so long not even knowing who I was, and now people want to be like me, and it’s a lot to deal with, but. It’s the best thing to deal with, I think. It’s just going to take some time to wrap my head around it all.”
Vision smiles, his eyes crinkling. “I, for one, fully support anyone who aspires to be like you, Wanda. I think the world can only benefit from a generation of girls who can call someone like you their role model. I know you don’t think of yourself as a hero, but you are one.” His smile turns tender. “You’re my hero.”
Wanda’s stomach flutters. “Viz,” she says, blushing, and Vision laughs softly.
“It’s true, darling. You are most definitely my hero. In fact,” he says, grinning, “I think I’ve decided to go as the Scarlet Witch for Halloween as well.”
Wanda splutters out a laugh. “Vision!”
“Think I could borrow your costume?” he asks, laughing, putting his hands on her hips and reeling her into a kiss, and all of her tears are gone now, replaced with that warm, aching, wonderful blaze of happiness in her chest, the one that’s been steadily growing from the moment she first met this beautiful man, from the moment they said I do, from the moment they bought this house.
“Only if I can borrow yours,” Wanda says, giggling, trying to picture Vision wearing her leathers and crown and - “Hm,” she says. “You know what… that could be really hot.”
Vision tilts his head. “Going as each other for Halloween?”
Wanda bites her lip. “Yeah. I think you’d look sexy in red. Really sexy.”
Vision’s eyes glitter. “I have to admit that I… like picturing you in my cape.”
Wanda smirks. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Vision says, a little bit breathless.
Wanda kisses him, this time slower, sweeter, and her body abruptly remembers that it hasn’t touched his in most of a week. “I was going to make myself some hot chocolate….”
“Oh?” Vision says, “would you like me to make you some? I don’t mind -”
Wanda puts her finger over his lip. “I was going to make hot chocolate. Now I’m thinking that I want to put the milk in the fridge and take you upstairs and practice for Halloween night.”
Vision kisses her finger, his smile coming back full force. “I love the way you think, darling.”
Wanda smiles, and they kiss their way into the kitchen. Wanda puts away the milk and snacks, humming happily when Vision wraps his arms around her from behind so she can’t get far, her mind filling with images of little girls wearing Scarlet Witch costumes, calling her their heroes, trick or treating at their house. Maybe, someday, her own children will dress up like them, too.
The future has never seemed so promising.