Archive of Our Own ^beta

I Love You, Goodbye

“Rise, Natalia Alianova Romanov.”

The sound echoes around a caliginous realm, bleak and desolate surrounded only by emptiness as the body that was once alive, is now sprawled out in a pool of red liquid gushing out of a limp figure, pale and lifeless. And suddenly everything is in perfervid motion as if a distant hole in space sucking all that is in its range immersing everything into sheer nothingness.

There is no life, no autonomy, and no governance in this dark expanse. There is nothing but darkness and the unshakable feeling of solitude all around.

Natasha opens her eyes and sees everything and nothing all at once. She takes a step forward, or is it back, she’s not so certain, nothing seems certain in this interdimensional void. Still, she tries to set herself in motion to take her anywhere out of this nonexistence.

Every movement she makes is nugatory. Every step, every grab, every turn, every kick, every punch, everything she does is nothing, she can’t even shed one tear it’s starting to drive her mad. She wonders if the consciousness she still somehow possesses at this moment counts for something. If it, at all, gives her purpose, perhaps there is still something left for her in the universe.

Perhaps death is not the end.

“A soul traded for another soul.” it speaks once more, “A soul entrapped in this boundless expanse until the stone’s return. A great sacrifice that cannot be left uncompensated.” the voice proclaims and the sound once again echoes all around, each vibration travelling at the speed of light, heard from lightyears away in the universe.

“Is this my punishment?” Natasha asks, unable to find a reason for her current predicament.

“This is neither a punishment nor a reward.” the voice answers simply, voice painfully impartial and difficult to dissect.

“Then what is it?” she asks once more, perplexed.

“A bargain. The living mourns, it mourns your death. It is loud, chaotic and unrelenting, it demands something unreachable, something impossible.” the voice starts to ring louder, like it’s getting closer to her.

“You have done a noble deed for your people, a sacrifice that surmounts what all of the other prisoners in Vormir have bequeathed. I will grant you one thing that your heart desires. One thing that will help your soul and the living obtain peace.”

“I..” Natasha starts, she wants to scoff, to roll her eyes even if she can’t and yet, her mind takes her back, back to when it all began, back to when she’s spent the happiest moments of her life.

-

Half of the universe’s population has vanished, reduced to particles of dust, defunct and gone. It has been the hardest two weeks for everybody who is inadvertently thrust into the cruel task of picking up the pieces after the massacre. Somehow they are expected to just move forward and continue on with their lives.

Thanos had said this would bring about stability and balance to the universe but nothing has ever felt more unbalanced than now.

Chaos and destruction lay waste on lands that once were vibrant and at least semi-orderly. It wasn’t a perfect world per se, but it was a world where being alive was the only prerequisite to belonging. Now, all that remains is the inordinate desolation conquering every street, every land, every building, every house, and everywhere.

Natasha trudges over the ruins along the streets of Upstate New York, empty and deserted cars lay scattered arbitrarily around, ruins of a crashed chopper sprawled on the ground dilapidated as pieces of it are stuck in the building it lays against. She observes everything that is left disregarded on the streets, varying from phones, watches, laptops, pens, and papers.

Two weeks is a long time to keep this mess around unattended, the bleached blonde-haired woman thinks as she continues her trek, her features sullen and grim.

She steps on a small and solid material on the ground and takes a quick glance at the object, preparing to kick the minute obstruction but she notices the screen light up with a peculiar symbol displayed. An eight-sided star in the middle with a blue and red background divided by two parallel lines forming upside-down Vs.

She picks the material up, inspecting it a little more closely. It’s definitely something she’s never seen before but there’s something about it that seems important. She tightens her grip and hastily shoves it in one of the pockets in the army surplus that Yelena had given her.

Natasha moves forward, determined and resolute in bringing everyone that has vanished back. She’s going to bring them back and save the world, even if it kills her.

–

Another two weeks pass before Natasha finally sucks up the courage to come back to St. Petersburg and try to find her missing family. She’s attempted to ignore the dreadful feeling in her gut that she’s felt for weeks when she didn’t get any form of contact with any of them at all, desperate to deny the very possible truth that they may have vanished too.

Two weeks after Tony’s imminent return from floating aimlessly in outer space and being brought back by Carol Danvers in the knick of time. Two weeks after they had all set on a hasty mission to track down and kill Thanos. Two weeks after they had learned that the stones had been extirpated, never to be used by anyone again.

And two weeks after they come back undignified and defeated, with nothing to bring back but an empty promise and a loss of hope. The avengers disband shortly after, with nothing left in their arsenal and no one left to fight.

She examines the forlorn homestead that was once Melina’s laboratory for her research for the Red Room. Dust coats almost the entirety of the house as dishes lay scattered on the floor, some broken and some still intact, and chairs askew in their place. It looks like a crime scene that hasn’t been touched in a while and Natasha has to bite her bottom lip, drawing blood, to keep herself from breaking down.

Only a month has passed when the bleached-blonde agent had promised her sister, Yelena, that she would get her to get some drinks with some of the members of the Avengers, she had promised Alexei that he would meet Captain America, and she had last hugged her mother, Melina.

She couldn’t hold back the tears from flowing once the dreadful reality finally sinks in and she falls to her knees thinking of the people she’s lost and the hopelessness of it all. She cries because there is no pain more ghastly to her than losing her entire family once more, and there is nothing left in the world to mend a heart as broken as hers.

When she gets back to the compound twelve hours later, she’s only half surprised to find it empty.

She tosses her knapsack on the recliner and plops down on her office chair, propping her legs up onto the table out of habit. She leans her back against the seat, arching her neck on its head trying to be as comfortable as she can be. She forgoes washing her face after crying for hours on end, choosing to keep the dried tear stains to mark it for a little longer.

For the first time in a long time, she allows exhaustion to take over, not having any care for the world and having no reason to keep herself alert to every movement around her anymore. She lets the heavy lids of her eyes droop slowly as it darkens her vision steadily, preparing her for some much-needed slumber. It doesn’t last very long though when she hears the faintest sounds of sniffling almost echoing the entire compound. It jolts her awake.

On instinct, she reaches for the gun on the tabletop, placing it firmly in between her palms as she gets up from her chair and begins surveying the hallways of the compound, the sobs becoming much louder with every step taken. When she reaches a particular room in which she’s positive the sound is coming from, it stops her in her tracks and the gun that was once tucked between her palms now hangs loosely on her limp hand.

Wanda, she thinks. How horrible is it that she had completely disregarded the young woman amidst all this tragedy? Especially knowing that she is at her most vulnerable state, losing the man she loved in the way that she did. It doesn’t matter how much power she possesses, Natasha knows well enough that grief will consume just about anybody it touches.

And if she’s being completely honest, Natasha had wanted to be there to comfort the auburn-haired woman, to be the shoulder she could cry on, to be the flesh and blood she could take her frustrations out on, she’s always wanted to be that for her. She had longed to be something more than a mentor to the younger avenger. But whenever her eyes land on the younger woman, pain always consumes her entire being and it stops her from taking the chance.

Whether it’s a pain coming from the painful reminder of what she’s gone through in the red room or the fact that seeing the witch in constant pain and suffering from losing so much in her life or perhaps it’s something entirely different, Natasha doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why she hurts every time she sees the younger woman, but she knows that it was her obligation to give her comfort as a senior member of the team and yet, a prickle in her heart stops her when it shouldn’t.

Right at this moment, Natasha wishes Steve was there with her. He would always know what to say, he would know how to approach the young woman gently and he can surely get her to open up without putting in much effort. It’s one of his best qualities.

Her hand moves to hold the doorknob in her palms but it hesitates for a moment. There is regret buried deep within her, the regret of the missed chances she’s had to be able to connect with Wanda, to be able to just waltz in her room and talk all night, to stay in late and hold her tight, to promise her a brighter tomorrow and to laugh at classic sitcoms and cry at dramas. To be able to do what Vision has done with her.

And then like a light switch turning on, she remembers Vision. Vision who had not experienced the same loss as any of them but was compassionate and empathetic enough to be kindred to their emotions. Vision who was a synthetic machine programmed to be the solution to Tony’s fears, the product of the brilliant minds of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. And Vision who had easily phased through the walls of Wanda’s heart.

He had been the one to bring back the smile that Natasha didn’t know Wanda had, he had been the one to comfort her when the cut of her brother’s loss had still been deep and fresh, he had been the one who had cooked for her to comfort her after Lagos, and most importantly, he had been the one Wanda had allowed to enter the chambers of her heart.

And now, he’s another one that the young witch has lost, his remains stolen by greedy gaffers paroling around and declaring that his “parts” are government property.

If she had the power to keep him, she would have done it for Wanda’s sake. But she’s still a fugitive to the existing half of the government, she has been overpowered by their own selfish interests.

Still, nothing could change the fact that Vision is gone and Wanda is on the other side of this door, heart broken into pieces and she’s left alone to pick them all up by herself.

The grip that she has on the doorknob tightens but a few seconds later she lets it free, turning back around to where she had come from. Her mind travels back to what Tony Stark had entrusted her with. She remembers it all so succinctly and she knows she needs to give it to the young witch.

-

Natasha places two careful knocks against the wooden door before her, noticing the sheer absence of the sobs that had once filled the silence in the empty compound. The hallways are dim with the only source of light coming from the dimly lit mounted porch lights against the mahogany walls, providing an eerie atmosphere around the stillness of the area.

She waits patiently for another minute but no answer comes from the other side of the door, not even light shuffling, everything is suspiciously placid. She tries another series of knocks, a little louder this time but still careful so as to not startle the other woman, counting from one to ten in her head.

When no answer comes, she springs into immediate action without hesitation. She gets a hairpin out from where it was tucked in her hair, using it to pick at the locks on the door and within seconds she’s able to open and enter the room, smirking slightly at her success.

Not even a second after she steps foot in the room, she’s met by a rapid blast of red energy carelessly being thrown at her. Her reflexes are quick and efficient as she twists her body to the side, swiftly evading the attack and the blast barely missing her face.

She stares back at the hole it created against the wall momentarily, sighing, although she’s unsure if it's from relief or something else. Then, she quickly turns her attention back to the barrage of energies being thrown at her, maneuvering herself expertly to evade the attacks and tumbling when a blast grazes her thigh.

She recovers quickly, sprinting towards the woman blasting red energies haphazardly in the room and gliding her leg in a sweeping motion, effectively knocking down and pinning a dishevelled-looking Wanda to the ground. She pauses for a moment, an arm pressed against the witch’s chest restraining her movements, she observes the woman underneath her.

Wanda looks thinner and paler than the last time she saw her, her eyes are bloodshot and there are dark circles under them, all apparent despite the dark lighting in the room with only the moonlight illuminating the open-curtained window as its source of light.

She relieves some of the pressure from the arm that is pinning the auburn-haired woman to the ground, afraid that she’ll do more inadvertent damage to the young woman’s already fragmented heart. Her face scrunches up in commiseration for the other woman and within a second, the witch’s eyes glow, preparing for another attack.

“Wanda,” Natasha says in a whisper, the word is spoken cautiously but it’s gentle, unperturbed by the threatening gaze being thrown at her. Wanda squirms, she lets out laboured pants that almost sound like little whines, struggling to break free under the bleached blonde-haired woman’s strong and tight hold.

The younger woman finally capitulates under her, her arms extending against the older woman’s chest, now gripping the fabric of her shirt so tightly they can both hear it tear but neither one of them says a word about it as Wanda’s eyes fill with tears that are threatening to spill over her cheeks.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Natasha whispers once more, lifting the arm that is pinning the young witch to the ground and moving to wipe the tears that spill from her eyes. She allows the auburn-haired girl’s nails to dig against the skin of her chest, the sharp sting oddly bringing her comfort.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda says tearily as the older woman merely shakes her head and continues to wipe at her cheeks, “Don’t be.” she begins, taking the other woman’s hand against her chest and in one swift motion, she brings them both up, standing upright in one swift motion, her hand holding the small of the witch’s back, guiding them both to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I should be the one apologizing.” She starts, moving a stray strand on the young witch’s face to the side. 

“I should’ve been there, I should’ve looked for you after… everything. I never should’ve left you alone.” she says, voice filled with remorse and Wanda shakes her head, 

“It’s not your fault, Natasha.” she starts, turning to look at the older woman. Even under the dim lighting of the pale moonlight and even with her eyes riddled with heavy bags and redrimmed, filled with unshed tears, she still looks so beautiful, Natasha thinks but she quickly erases the thought in her mind.

“I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be gone, I wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to experience losing someone I loved again. I wanted to forget.” She says, sobbing into her palms as Natasha strokes her back comfortingly, allowing the younger woman to lament her feelings as she sits and listens patiently to the younger woman pour out her grief.

An hour passes by, and the air is filled with comfortable silence as they sit side by side, just revelling in each other’s soothing presence. The blonde looks over at the auburn-haired girl beside her, “Are you thirsty?” she asks after a moment, genuine concern plastered on her features when she notices the other woman’s severely cracked and pale lips, “I should get you a glass of water. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” she says, already moving on her feet before she can finish her sentence.

She gets stopped in her tracks when she feels a light tug at the sleeve of her green jacket, it’s hesitant but resolute. “No,” Wanda says, shaking her head, “Please stay. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, just… stay.” she says, her cracked lips struggling to even form a small smile as she tries to convince the blonde haired woman before her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment, she takes one look at the pleading look on the auburn-haired woman and she knows right away that there’s no chance she’d be able to say no to her despite her better judgement. She sighs exasperatedly and moves a few steps around the other woman to turn on the lamp at her bedside table, illuminating only a small part of the room but it’s enough to give it some kind of warmth. She sits back next to the other girl, leaning back with her outstretched arms tethering her in place.

“You’ll have a raging headache in the morning, you definitely won’t be fine and you’ll be sorry you stopped me.” she says, looking up at the ceiling of the witch’s bedroom, gazing at the glow-in-the-dark lights pasted arbitrarily and thinking it couldn’t have been the witch’s idea to put it up, “But you did, so I guess I have no choice but to stay and catch you when you faint.” she finishes with a pointed glance at the other girl who’s staring back at her, she gives her a lopsided smirk.

She’s never really joked around with Wanda before, though she does it often and seamlessly with the boys, it just didn’t come easy with the young witch. Perhaps it was because of the tension felt between them after Wanda had tapped into the deepest and buried parts of her mind (though all has been forgiven. And it’s definitely not because she suddenly becomes an embarrassing hot mess around her).

“Thank you,” Wanda says genuinely, sliding subtly closer to the blonde and if Natasha notices the movement, she doesn’t say anything about it (she does smile a little though).

Silence overtakes them once more, exhaustion evident in both of their features but neither one of them dares to close their eyes, the agent’s remaining fixated on the ceiling, now her entire back is laying on the bed while her legs dangle slightly on the edge of the bed while the young witch had moved to lean against the headboard of her bed, legs folded against her chest with her arms hugging them. Natasha thinks they’ll spend the rest of the night that way but is effectively surprised when Wanda breaks the silence a minute later.

“I miss him.” she says, her gaze fixed on the wall ahead of her, Natasha moves her focus towards the younger woman, propping herself up on her elbow, slightly. “So much.” the younger woman continues, her voice cracking when the words come out and Natasha thinks she’ll cry again but when she shuffles around to face the other woman properly, she notices that there are no tears present in her eyes. Perhaps all her tears have dried out, she thinks and she’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

Suddenly, she gets a flood of realization as she remembers the partial reason why she was there in the first place, she wants to slap herself for forgetting but decides she’ll leave the self-deprecation for later, she has more important matters to attend to.

She shuffles around, looking for something until she finds it on the floor, she must’ve dropped it from the earlier scuffle. She picks the envelope up quickly, relieved it wasn’t damaged as the younger witch quirks a curious brow at her.

She hands over the envelope to the younger woman, looking up with sympathy in her eyes, “What is this?” Wanda asks, inspecting the envelope in her hands tentatively.

“It’s a gift.” Natasha pauses with a slight gulp before continuing, “From Vision.” she continues and sees the witch’s eyes widen immediately as they brim with uncontrollable tears once more, one that the agent thought had already dried out from the witch’s eyes.

“Tony handed it over to me before… everything. He told me to give it to you when the time is right and I’m not sure why he didn’t just give it to you right away. But I’m sure Vision would want you to have it now.” the agent continues as she watches the young woman’s lips tremble and her hands shake as she hastily rips the envelope up, reading its contents. Out of the corner of her eyes, the agent could vaguely see the property deed and a sketch of the property with a simple message inside a drawn heart, presumably by Vision, that says “To grow old in”. Before she knows it, the young witch bursts into tears once more.

The agent merely stands there foolishly, watching as the woman before her crumbles. She feels useless in this light, watching Wanda cry and unable to bring her comfort knowing that nothing could at the moment, so she does the last thing she would ever think she’ll do, she wishes to a God she knows won’t listen. She wishes for Wanda’s pain to stop, for her to be shown mercy, for her to be set free from this awful curse.

Just as she’s about to reach out to the young witch, she feels a surge of red and overwhelming energy coming out of her, encompassing everything in the room and perhaps the entire compound too. Natasha knows Wanda isn’t in control at the moment, she had always known that her potential was beyond what she could comprehend and perhaps this is a display of that as the energy sucks her in, burning her skin, and slowly draining the air from her lungs.

But despite the pain she’s feeling, she keeps moving forward, reaching until she’s touching the younger woman’s skin and in a split second, everything comes rushing back inside of Wanda and she implodes with a scream and tears flowing uncontrollably from her eyes, sending everything around her flying.

Natasha gets thrown to a wall and she could feel herself breathe again when she falls with a thud. She sucks in a huge breath and exhales with a cough, relieved to be able to pump oxygen into her heart once more. She looks over at the other woman who is now on her knees crying and ashamed.

“Natasha I-” the witch stammers over her words, choking on her sobs as she tries to control it by covering her mouth in front of her, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to do that” she manages to get out in between sobs and if Natasha had the ability to speak at this moment, she would do so to reassure the younger woman.

Instead, she crawls over to her and says nothing as she rests her forehead against the other girl’s placing her hand on the back of her head, hoping it will bring her comfort and reassurance. Wanda tries to pull away, to separate herself from the blonde, shaking her head and putting both her hands on her shoulders.

She can feel Wanda’s anguish, she can tell that the young witch is thinking about how much of a danger she is to everything and everyone she touches, and how she must protect Natasha from herself by adding more distance between them.

Natasha’s hand drops to the floor, supporting her as she watches the younger woman recline herself into a fetal position, shaking and crying. “Hey,” she starts, not knowing what to say, cautiously moving closer to the shaking woman trying to somehow convey how she’s unafraid of her, she won’t ever hurt her.

“Don’t,” Wanda says firmly, stopping the woman from approaching her any further, “Please, I’m out of control and I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.” she pleads, lips trembling as she does.

“You won’t hurt me, I know you won’t. It was just an accident” Natasha responds sanguine despite the blood trailing along her eyebrows down to her jaw, she looks perfectly insouciant, like it’s nothing at all. The young witch looks at her, disbelieving and the agent smirks adjusting herself to sit upright, respecting the boundary that the younger woman has set between them,

“What? You think I can’t take a hit? You’ve thrown me to a container chassis once, this was tame compared to that.” she says jokingly, recalling the time the avengers were divided and fighting amongst themselves like it’s a fond memory.

“I’m sorry about that,” Wanda says quietly, voice sore from crying but she seems to have calmed down a little. “I know. You’ve already apologized a hundred times. I’m starting to think that’s all the phrase you know how to say to me.” she jokes, eliciting a faint scoff from the witch, it’s barely noticeable but it’s there nonetheless and it fills her with satisfaction to elicit a reaction from her that’s not all pain and sorrow.

“You know, a wise man once told me that the best way to heal is to let everything out.” the blonde starts carefully, gauging the auburn-haired woman’s response. It takes a few minutes before Wanda responds, 

“It was Steve who told you that, wasn’t it?” she says and Natasha breaks into a quiet laugh, looking down at her feet and nodding, “Did he tell you the same thing too?” she asks, looking up at the other woman who nods her head affirmatively. “Countless times,” she says, her voice still a little disgruntled.

“Well, he may be a fossil but I think he’s full of that helpful brotherly advice.” she starts, looking up at the ceiling once more, more so to avoid eye contact with the woman a few feet away from her as she contemplates her next words. 

“I’ll start,” she says with a deep inhale, preparing to open herself up to Wanda fully, something she hasn’t done with anybody else in her life.

“I’m sure you already know a lot of the details about my childhood, I mean, you’ve seen them yourself, you know how unpleasant it was.” she says and out of the corner of her eyes, she sees the young woman flinch with guilt in her features and when she’s just about certain the witch would start apologizing again, she quickly continues, 

“I got reunited with my sister again. It was pretty recent and she wasn’t too happy to see me after all these years but we hashed it out pretty quickly after a little… mishap,” she recalls fondly, images of when she and Yelena almost choked each other to death flowing through her mind.

“Her name is Yelena, right?” she hears the other woman speak and it is startling to hear the young witch say her sister’s name, but she doesn’t say anything else, just nods with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, she... Uh.. she wanted to meet you, all of the avengers, actually. But I think she would’ve just complained about all the testosterone around and would’ve been more excited to know you.” she says with a chuckle, looking over at Wanda who’s giving her a small but fond smile. She smiles back.

“She sounds lovely,” Wanda says, her posture now more relaxed with her face not buried under her legs anymore. “She is and I wish you could’ve met her. I think she would’ve loved you,” she says with a sad smile, seeing the other woman open her mouth in the realization of the implication of her last sentence.

Wanda doesn’t respond, she doesn’t say anything but she scoots closer to the older woman to place her hand over her and Natasha intertwines them instinctively, feeling the warmth of the young witch’s palms against her own. The sensation tethering her, a reminder that she’s alive and there is so much more to live for.

They stay like that in silence for a few more minutes before Wanda decides to break the silence, “When I lost Pietro, I thought that was it, my life was over.” she starts, her grip subconsciously tightening around the older woman’s hand and Natasha just squeezes back, encouraging her to continue.

“We only had each other after our parents died. He was my other half. I wouldn’t have ever survived without him and he was always there for me so when he died, I was prepared to die too.” she pauses, a small smile flashing across her face as she remembers, “But then Vision came and swept me off my feet. Literally. He pulled me out of the darkness in my heart. He was my friend and he was my love. He saved my life and gave it meaning again.” she says, her smile turning desolate and pained.

“Now he’s gone and I have no one. I’m all alone again and I don’t know how to survive.” Wanda finishes, wiping away at her eyes desperately, trying to subdue the tears that just won’t stop flowing. Natasha can feel the exhaustion, the defeat coursing through the young woman, she sees the sadness seep into Wanda, trying to consume her entire being.

She pulls her hand away and sees the younger woman look up, confused. Instead, she wraps her arm around her, gripping her shoulders tightly as if to convey that she’s there to stay, that she doesn’t have to be alone. She looks to the other woman, “Wanda, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. You’re not alone. I’m here and I’m not leaving.” she says implacably, her features sure and resolute.

“I… I just tried to kill you twice in one night.” the young witch says, confusion evident in her tone but Natasha doesn’t miss the way she tries to hide the small smile that is forming on her face.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” She answers without any hesitation, smirking when the other woman smiles a little freely for the first time in the entire night.

Seeing Wanda smile, Natasha thinks, is the best feeling she’s felt in a while. She decides she wants to be the one to put that light back into the young witch’s eyes, to make her smile without the baggage of pain in them and she will do it at all costs.

–

Falling into an easy rhythm with Wanda should have been more onerous than it is. Unravelling the witch should have been a task so gruelling, it should’ve run her ragged and worn out. Finding comfort in each other should have been a fucking struggle, it should’ve taken more time to trust, it should’ve been a piece of work that Natasha would continuously travail for years, it should’ve made her bleed, sweat and cry.

And the fact that it couldn’t be farther from those is fucking disconcerting.

It’s disconcerting because if it were this easy then why did she wait so long to do this? If it were this simple, why did she have to make it so complicated before? If she were to accept how effortless it would have been to be with the young witch, then she would have to admit that she could’ve been the one Wanda would’ve opened her heart to.

And yet, waking up to a snoring Wanda, all curled up underneath the covers. Her face burrowed in the safety of Natasha’s chest as she clutches at the soft material of her shirt after an all-night sitcom marathon that the, now brunette-haired woman, vehemently convinced her to, nothing in the world has ever felt more right.

Not once in her life did she ever imagine she would feel the inherent need to beam at the sound of snoring that serves as her alarm now. Normally, she would wake up cranky and irritable, and a morning run would help clear her mind but now, morning runs are a luxury, not a necessity. 

Watching the young woman sleep peacefully every morning when she wakes up and seeing her in such a tranquil state as if all the burden in the world has suddenly lifted off her, setting her free and weightless, sends immeasurable contentment within her. She can’t help the feeling that she’s witnessing something sacred like the sight of Wanda is holy and she’s always meant to worship.

Every morning she goes out for a run, not to escape and not to clear her mind, but she just does because she wants to and she can. There is no more added baggage to it, no added anxiety of the very thought of the red room or the next alien attack, she just runs until she makes her way back home. Really, it’s also a lot to do with staying in shape.

It’s an easy routine to get into, she goes out and runs just until the outskirts of their little isolated cabin. There’s a wide lake situated not too far from the cabin, overseeing a town just a few kilometres away. They visit the lake sometimes for an impromptu picnic since the lake doesn’t usually get a lot of visitors due to the awful trekking conditions, but both women enjoy the seclusion it brings.

She runs there every morning, sometimes even going past it to visit the town nearby. In fact, her stamina is improving quite impressively from it, her pace becoming a lot faster with each passing jog. As outlandish as it may sound, she thinks that there may be a slight chance she could beat an enhanced super soldier from the 1940s at a race sometime if the circumstances were right. Or at least, that’s what Wanda would always say after every jog, and she would always quip about helping even the field with a slight use of her magic.

The thought of the avengers, her second family, always leaves a prickle in her heart. Leaving the compound and effectively breaking what remained of the group up with her departure had been one of the toughest decisions she had ever made. But as the hopes of bringing everybody back dwindles down, staying had become a debilitating task.

Especially when she was witnessing the deterioration of the young witch, locking herself in the confines of her room, refusing to get out even to eat or drink and refusing to heal. It had Natasha’s own heart break in the process for the young woman. So, when one morning, after breaking and entering the witch’s room for the millionth time (there had been no amount of magic that could’ve kept the agent from entering), she had a plan and a suggestion in mind.

When she’d proposed the idea of running away together at a small cabin she bought for herself a few years back, Wanda’s initial answer had been a flat and stern “No.”. They had spent many nights arguing about the idea, many nights of constant bickering and many mornings of constant squabbles but when Wanda finally said yes, she knew right away that it was the right choice.

She knows it deep in her lungs every time she comes back from her morning run. When the sun begins to rise, the smell of crisp bacon, ham and eggs wafts through the air. When she enters the cabin, she can already see the table set with two plates and a cup of black coffee laid on her side.

She knows it deep in her pumped-up blood when she sees a pattern of a smile plastered on her plate, two eggs making up the eyes, a piece of ham in the middle for the nose and three strips of bacon forming a smile.

She knows it when she couldn’t hold the smile on her face, and she feels her heart start to race at the sight of the woman she’s spent the better part of her year with. She knows it when she sees her strut and hum from the kitchen all the way towards her with a big, infectious and radiating smile that could perhaps shine brighter than the sun. 

The agent’s body starts to move as if it had a mind of its own, trudging towards the brunette, stepping close to wrap her arms around her, grateful to the Gods she doesn’t believe in (except for Thor) that she’s alive and able to witness this beautiful moment. 

But as soon as she does, the young brunette recoils from her place sharply and Natasha couldn’t help the offended frown from forming on her face. Her frown gets immediately replaced with a playful pout when she sees the younger woman’s nose wrinkle (she absolutely loves it when she does that) and her lips trying to fight off a smile as she places her arms in between them to put some distance, careful not to touch the older woman as she cautiously steps backward.

“You’re sweaty, you probably smell gross, and I just showered so don’t even think of coming near me until after you’re done showering.” the brunette says playfully, making exaggerated gestures with her arms to keep the (now) redhead at arm's length.

The redhead scrunches up her face and makes a motion of sniffing her own armpits to try and prove a point, “Come on Wands, I don’t smell that bad. I’ve smelt worse.” she says and when she sees the brunette crinkle her nose once more, she adds, “Okay, I’m only mildly smelly, that’s not so bad.” she says, taking a step forward, causing the brunette to take a hasty step back, arms still raised in front of her like she’s in a fighting position, ready to push off the redhead’s advances.

The redhead chuckles and takes another step forward, this time careful and tentative. “It’s not so good to be attacked by a sweaty, gross-smelling human after a fresh shower, malishka .” the young witch jests, using the pet name mockingly making the agent quirk her lips in amusement. Two can play this game, she thinks.

Natasha takes another step forward with more purpose this time but still careful as Wanda takes another step back nearing the wall behind, “A nice, warm hug from an avenger is always a good thing, sweetheart .” One step.

“Besides, you can always take another shower after.” Two more steps.

“I can help.” Wanda’s back hits the wall.

“ Draga .” the agent finishes with a whisper, tongue rolling on the ‘r’ in a perfect Sokovian accent as she uses the Sokovian pet name to elicit a reaction from the young witch. She smirks as she watches the brunette flush, seeing her exhaling out a shaky breath that hits the base of her cheek, her movements clearly laboured, clutching at the nearest object she could find to maintain her balance.

Natasha feels the electrifying heat between them coursing through her veins, it gets a little difficult to breathe, the air growing thicker between them as her mouth now hovers at the base of the younger woman’s neck, barely touching but extremely intoxicating.

As if gravity is pulling them towards each other, she moves impossibly closer to the other woman, her sweat tenfold as her body aches for contact but she refuses to indulge herself until the witch’s green light, so she stays, now hovering over the witch’s mouth, pinning her against the wall as their soft and hot breaths bounces off of one another, creating a potion so tantalizing, so difficult to contain.

She can see movement out of the corner of her eyes but she’s too distracted by the way Wanda looks down at her lips, and before she knows it, she can feel a soft, cottony material being thrust into her face. She sees the younger woman make a run for it, bursting into loud bouts of giggles as the redhead stays frozen in place, a stunned expression on her face, holding the hand towel in front of her and then looking at it in confusion.

They spent about five minutes running around, with Natasha still chasing and Wanda still evading, sweat dripping down both women's faces as the heat and tension from earlier only intensifies. The young witch would argue that if this makes her a hypocrite for still refusing to touch the redhead despite herself sweating, then fuck it, she’s never really claimed to be fair anyway.

“I can’t believe you’re refusing a hug from me, Natasha Romanoff. The Avengers’ black widow. Black widows never even think about hugging anyone, if you think about it, you’re basically being given the biggest privilege in the world.” Natasha says in between her panting.

“Did you just call yourself ‘the avengers’ Black Widow’?” Wanda asks, also panting, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. The redhead could only shrug in response with her hands on her hips, making the other woman chuckle. Wanda picks up the now abandoned hand towel off the couch and makes her way to the older woman.

Natasha grins widely, already knowing that the brunette is giving in, and she sees the younger woman smile along, shoving the hand towel at her face as she wipes at it in a very not-so-gentle manner that has the redhead pouting teasingly. When the brunette finishes wiping, she can feel the brunette wrap her arms around her shoulder and rest her head against the side of her own.

Natasha wraps her own arms around the slightly taller woman’s waist, burrowing her head closer to the other woman’s as they remain in place like that for a while.

“You’re sweaty.” Natasha says, “but you still smell really fucking good.” she says in a whisper shortly after and a red puff of energy surrounds them both and in a second, it’s gone, and she feels completely dry and fresh. Natasha snorts, head still against the other woman’s head, “If you could’ve just done that, why didn’t you just magic me dry earlier?” she asks with a pout.

“Because I wanted to wipe the sweat off of you.” the young witch answers simply with a shrug. Natasha answers with a hum, burying her head in Wanda’s shoulder, as they remain placid in the middle of the living room holding each other.

“Did you know, you always have this look on your face whenever you get back from your morning runs?” Wanda starts, pulling away slightly to look at the other woman, her hands now resting on her shoulders, “There’s always sweat dripping on your face and onto your chest and it looks so much like you’re glowing.” Wanda says, hand leaving Natasha’s shoulder to cup her cheek.

“I always look forward to those mornings. When you come home sweaty and your smile is as bright as the sun, like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.” she finishes, her stare is intense against the other woman’s but there’s still a slight hesitance and shyness to her that Natasha finds so endearing and lovable.

The smile that forms on Natasha’s face is as wide and as bright as Wanda described it, her heart feeling full and light. They stay in place just holding each other for a few more minutes, falling into a slow cadence, swaying lightly with only the rhythmic beating of their hearts to guide them through the motion.

They don’t break away until Natasha brings up their now cold breakfast and coffee and Wanda magics the food to emit steam once more, looking as appetizing as they were the first time. But Natasha thinks there’s nothing in the world that will make her fuller than the feeling of Wanda Maximoff against her, swaying to invisible music, hand resting on her chest as the beat of her heart threatens to blow.

So, perhaps, falling into an easy rhythm with Wanda is something inevitable. As is the guilt that bubbles up inside of her when three words burn at the tip of her tongue, begging to be released and it explodes out of her mouth.

–

It's right after Natasha lets the words slip out that things take a turn for the worse. (And by worse, she means nothing could have ever been better and that makes it worse because nothing good ever lasts.)

It's right after the very first time their lips touch and every pent-up emotion she didn't even know she was keeping inside comes rushing out of her like a devastating flood ready to wreck anything and everything in its way.

It comes in the form of her lips, and her tongue, and her hands, and her body, and her- fuck that, she doesn't have the capacity to be poetic right now. 

Not when Wanda's lips are moving against hers and it's sloppy and wet, and it's rhythmic and muddled like she's been craving this moment forever. 

Not when Wanda's mouth opens almost immediately when Natasha’s tongue slides against it, feeling her sweet-tasting lips, every sense of it drowning her in sugary intoxication.

Not when Wanda's hands move up to tangle into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer and they fall into one another. Not when Wanda tugs at her bottom lip and stretches it out with her teeth, eliciting an unconditioned groan from her mouth. And when she releases it, there's a click as it snaps back into place and, like a magnet, their lips find each other once more, not wasting any more time as the lust overtakes their every sense.

Not when every sound that Wanda makes, every moan, every grunt and every groan sends a large spike of energy into her like she’s being hit by a bolt of lightning, and it gives her powers. Not when she doesn't think Thor's lightning could have anything on the feeling of Wanda's chest heaving against her own, she feels like she could take on the whole universe if it tries.

Not when every touch of Natasha’s roaming hands into Wanda’s sensitive skin sends the brunette into a frenzy, makes her press harder, bite harder, kiss harder. It sends a sheer thrill punctuating her lungs, making it so difficult to breathe but the breathlessness of it all makes it oh so marvellous. 

Not when she so desperately wants more, she wants to feel more, beneath the layers of the witch's (now incredibly irritating) clothing and when she looks up, she feels the same want from the other woman. It makes her desire burn at her chest, travelling all the way to her lungs and at the pits of her stomach and the fire escapes her in a loud moan, hot and heavy against the tip of her tongue. Wanda does the same.

Not when her passion hits a point of no return and when it all comes up, she slows the pace instead of letting it burn them. She lets her hands glide up and down the sides of the brunette's waist, and she lets her lips travel the atom-sized spaces of her mouth and into her cheeks and into her jaw and into her neck.

Not when her hands move on their own, up to the brunette’s cheeks, cupping it like it’s fragile and made of silk and it's the most beautiful fucking thing she’s ever touched. And she's kissing her senseless as if she couldn't physically stop.

Not when Wanda kisses her with as much fervour, even as their pace slows and their lips touch lazily into one another. Every click as their lips pulls apart by an inch, every sluggish lick at the base of their mouths, every word hushed and muffled against each other is like music in their minds. And when she feels Wanda’s hand cup her cheeks, she can’t help but feel holy, sacred.

Not when they pull away slowly and a moment after, she hears a ghost of a whisper saying, “Finally” and she opens her eyes to see Wanda, face flushed and red as a tomato, with a smile so wide, full and warm, she can’t help but lean in again for another short and fleeting kiss.

And most especially, not when Wanda says the three words back and it sounds like an orchestra playing beautiful and soulful music and it frees her lungs from the hot, burning fire.

It's jarring to think about how happy and content she is right now when not even a year has passed since she and Wanda lost everyone and everything they've ever loved.

She should be out here mourning for what she’s lost, for the family she’s lost, for her sister, Yelena, for the time Yelena is losing as a result of the snap, and for the team, her second family, that she’s lost. She should be out here sympathizing with Wanda, comforting her through the motions of her grief of losing Vision, providing her with the support she needs, something she wasn’t able to give her when Pietro died.

She shouldn’t want more. She shouldn’t be feeling this burning, raging desire for Wanda. She shouldn’t ever covet for this feeling to be reciprocated; she should not expect more. But, here she is, her arms wrapped protectively around a slender figure laying on her chest, chin resting atop a head of silky brunette hair, charmed under the smell of the other woman’s shampoo, head dizzy with want and endless devotion.

It is moments like these that make her thoughts hazy with dangerous complacency that her mind might actually, genuinely want to believe they can stay like this for a little while longer than the universe might allow. For a little bit of forever, she knows they can’t have. All the worries and thoughts of what she’s lost, are selfishly buried at the back of her head.

But she knows it won’t last, she knows the feeling is divine but fleeting. Their ghosts will always find her, they will always crawl back into her mind, will invade her in the cruellest ways possible and she knows it’s the same for Wanda. She knows they will never be free from this curse for as long as the souls of the people they’ve lost are trapped begging to be freed. 

Even so, as the older woman feels the breathing of the brunette laying on her chest even out, her mind still truly and sincerely believes it’s a love that will last multiple lifetimes. She releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the other woman shuffles on top of her to bury her face in the crook of her neck and Natasha smiles as she tightens her hold. She doesn’t care if it’s selfish, she’s not letting go of Wanda Maximoff.

–

Natasha knows that other than Steve and Vision, Wanda held a particularly special bond with Clint Barton. He was the first avenger who had put his trust in her, who had instated her to become an avenger, who her brother took multiple bullets for and who had honoured her brother and his memory by naming his newborn with her brother’s name, Pietro, despite barely knowing him for a day.

In some ways, he was the father she and her twin didn’t have growing up. Natasha knows he’s a significant person in Wanda’s life whether she intended it or not. Clint bringing her into his home when she didn’t have anywhere to run off to after the avengers split up and before she and Vision had moved to Scotland, was a loud testament to their bond. Especially when Laura Barton and their children accepted her into their homes with open arms despite everything that she’s done, the innocent people she’s killed in Lagos.

Wanda told her one night about how grateful she had been for Clint and Laura, about how indebted she felt to them and about how Vision had been confused when she told him this, stating that the Bartons had offered her their home without the expectation of anything in return. She had bonded with their children, helped with the chores and had been an overall great guest and if there was ever any debt to pay, it would have already been paid.

When Natasha received a call from Steve one morning, informing her of how he was able to find Clint’s whereabouts, Natasha was ready to pack up and leave to come and get him before the first avenger could even suggest the idea. Wanda isn’t the only person Clint had rescued from the darkness. Natasha owes Clint her life and she will hold it with her until the time comes, she will gladly drop everything to rescue him, she owes him that much and much more.

Naturally, the black widow expected Wanda to be willing and ready to come with her, to come to get Clint, get the avengers back but when she only gets an austere and definitive ‘no’ for an answer, it’s only natural for her to be confused.

When questioned, Wanda only marches back to her bedroom, slamming it shut on Natasha’s face who’s following close behind. This situation is reminiscent of when Natasha first found Wanda in the compound after the snap. When the light in Wanda’s eyes seemed to have completely dimmed, only the darkness and lonely, red energy encompassed her as her heart was shattered. It wasn’t a pretty sight then and it’s not a pretty sight now.

Natasha had anticipated the door to be enchanted by Wanda’s magic and she knows she won’t be able to break through it this time (the woman’s power has enhanced throughout the time they’ve spent secluded in this cabin), so she walks out of the cabin in nothing but a thin grey sweater with skin tight sleeves against the harsh breeze of the winter morning, flakes of snow hitting her face like little knives cutting through her but it doesn’t matter as she breaks the window to Wanda’s room and expertly maneuvers inside.

She jumps down into the room with the grace of a black widow, immediately finding the eyes of the brunette who averts her own quickly. She takes a step forward, “Wanda-”

“Don’t.” the other girl stops her, voice sharp and harsh.

Natasha sighs, she moves to sit beside the other girl, close enough to make her presence known, to reassure the brunette that she’s present and not going anywhere but with enough distance to not overwhelm her. She watches as Wanda has her arms wrapped around her knees where she buries her face. Natasha brings her own knees up to her chest.

“What’s going on?” she whispers silently, the question barely audible as the sound of the harsh winter wind muffles every sound of the room. The room is silent, save for the sound of the cold winter air coming through the broken window.

“I want you to stay,” Wanda says finally, her tone definitive and imposing, she turns to look at Natasha and what the redhead sees is the opposite of how she sounds. Wanda looks vulnerable, fragile, and unimposing. Natasha opens her mouth to respond and closes it and opens it again and closes it again, biting down her own lip.

“Wanda, it’s Clint. I can’t just abandon him.” she settles with this answer. She doesn’t think she can ever be swayed by this, not when the person involved is Clint Barton, she owes this to him. She owes so much.

Wanda heaves an exasperated sigh, rising onto her feet, now pacing the middle of her room, “I know, I just-” she runs her hands through her brunette locks as she continues, “I care about Clint too. I want him to be safe, I want him to be back, to be with the people who care about him but-” she cuts herself off, frustration evident in her features.

Natasha raises herself up from her sitting position and walks towards the brunette, holding the side of her arms to steady her, to ground her, to let her know she's there and that she's safe. A moment later, Wanda breathes deep and continues, 

“I don’t want to lose you”

The 'too' goes unsaid but is implied as Natasha softens her features. Seeing Wanda like this, trying to hold back her tears as if they will physically cut her if she lets them through, lips trembling and nose wrinkling in an unpleasant way, it breaks her heart into a million pieces. It breaks her heart knowing that she's the reason for the tears unshed.

The redhead brings the brunette close to her, engulfing her in her arms in a protective and comforting gesture, “You won’t lose me” she whispers softly into the brunette’s hair, hoping it is enough to convince her.

Wanda clutches at the fabric of Natasha’s sweater, she clutches it until the material is moulded with her fist and then she pushes her away gently. Natasha looks at her, puzzled and she shakes her head and walks away.

“Don’t tell me things you know you can't promise, Natasha”

She's pacing again, back and forth, side to side, Natasha just stands there with slumped shoulders and arms dropped limply to her side. She doesn’t argue it, she wouldn’t, not when Natasha knows it’s part of the risk that comes with her job as an avenger. She knows she can’t promise Wanda that.

But even still, she contends with the other woman, because it’s better than staying passive, “Wanda, it’s just Clint. We’re just getting him back and nothing more.”

“He’s been out there murdering people!” Wanda exclaims, “A lot of people are after him.”

“What? Are you saying I can’t handle them?!”

 “No!”

“Because if you think that, then maybe you should come with me. If you’re that concerned.” Natasha bites back, raising her voice and taking a step forward, challenging the younger woman.

“And then what?” Wanda asks and Natasha stills for a moment, taken aback by the vague question. “You take him back to the compound? How long will you stay to take care of him there? What if Steve asks you to go on another mission? What if you go back to being an avenger and never come home?” Wanda’s eyes are brimming with tears, reminiscent of the last time Natasha saw her broken and vulnerable. It breaks her heart.

Natasha knows Wanda is insecure, she has been since she’s lost her parents, since she lost Pietro, since she lost Vision and now the possibility of losing another person in Wanda’s life is there, she can understand why Wanda would want to stop Natasha, to not let her leave, to force her to stay, to never leave her.

And in some ways, Natasha’s heart wants nothing more than to stay with Wanda, to be where she’s happy, to be selfish, to never think of anything else, but a part of Natasha knows what she is and what she’ll always be. She’ll always be Natasha Romanoff, a Russian spy turned Shield agent, the woman Clint Barton saved, and the Black Widow, an Avenger.

She moves forward and brings her hands up to cup the witch’s face, she places a fleeting kiss on her lips as tears roll down her cheeks uncontrollably, and she rests her forehead on the other woman’s. “Wanda” she begins, exhaling the other woman’s name like it’s been stuck under her throat for a while. 

“There are a lot of things that I can’t promise you. A lot of things I can’t say I wouldn’t do and a lot of things I can’t say that I am not, but if there’s only one thing left for me to say in the world, it’s that whatever happens, wherever I am and wherever you are, however long it will take, I will always find my way home.”

She raises her head from where it was resting on Wanda’s forehead, and she sees the other woman do the same. She gives her a sheepish and teary smile before she continues, 

“Even if I’m all the way across the galaxy, I’ll just ping you down or maybe even drag your ass to me if I have to and I’ll be home.” She smirks when she sees an exaggerated eye roll from the witch and instinctively, she pulls her close by the waist and whispers, “You are my home, Wanda Maximoff.” and she closes their distance.

When their lips touch, she can feel her heart become whole again. She wonders if Wanda feels the same, she hopes she does.

When Wanda pulls away slightly, it’s to whisper how cringey she is and she doesn’t give Natasha the chance to respond because a second later, she’s crushing their lips into one another once more and all the thoughts in Natasha’s head dissipate in an instant. 

Wanda’s kisses feel commanding, fervent, and urgent as if she’s making a point with each and every touch. She feels Wanda’s tongue, slick and dexterous against her own like they’re dancing inside their mouths, and it sends her into a frenzy. She feels an overwhelming sense of want and lust invade her as Wanda pushes her back against the wall.

It’s such a turn from where they were just a few moments ago and it’s incredibly exhilarating as Wanda places warm and slick kisses on her sensitive skin, eliciting a pleasurable moan from her. Her fingers grip at the locks of brunette hair in front of her, head arched as she allows the witch to cast invigorating spells into her neck with her mouth.

At the first tug of her sweater, Natasha immediately raises it up to her torso, to her shoulders, and over her head, discarding it haphazardly on the floor of Wanda’s room, leaving her bare skin exposed. The wind is still blowing strong outside and the hole on Wanda’s window allows for it to make its way to attack her skin, but Natasha barely feels it as Wanda’s hot and heavy hands roam her body with intent and want.

Wanda is tracing kisses down to Natasha’s abdomen and Natasha swears she’s going crazy with want, gripping anything and everything that is in proximity and just when she’s at the apex of her pleasure, Wanda traces her kisses back up, to her torso, to her chest, to her neck, to her cheek, then back to her lips. Her eyes are still closed from the residual excitement and pleasure, but she can feel the smile on Wanda’s face as her lips meet hers.

Wanda only cups her cheeks and kisses her sweet and slow, a direct contrast to what Natasha was expecting. She knows the brunette is teasing her and that the crease on her forehead will only do nothing but further coax the younger woman but Natasha only smirks as she catches the young witch by surprise when she grabs the back of her thighs abruptly, raising her off the ground.

Wanda’s arms subconsciously come up to wrap around her shoulders as she carries her, taking about two or three steps to get towards the bed and plopping her down unceremoniously. She leans down right away, kissing the other woman hungry and greedy. She can feel the vibrations of Wanda’s giggles against her mouth and it damn near makes her orgasm from the sheer ecstasy it radiates through her. She lets out a long whimper.

Wanda smiles, wide at the moan that leaves Natasha’s mouth, and she flips their position, the younger woman effectively pinning her down and straddling her hips. Natasha looks up, face flushed with incredible arousal and eyes hazy with intense want. Wanda smiles and boops her nose and Natasha can’t help the flutter in her chest and the never-ending butterflies in her stomach. 

She loves every second of this feeling, she never knew love could feel this good.

“You’re not getting any until you come home so you better get home quick.” Wanda simply says, hopping off her with an evil laugh and it echoes when she walks out of the room.

She lets her head sag into the bed cushion and then she smiles, heart warm and intact and full, and immediately, she thinks she wants to spend the rest of her life with Wanda Maximoff.

And under normal circumstances, this would’ve had her running up the hills, far away from these thoughts, far away from this happiness she’s afraid of losing but she doesn’t. She doesn’t and she doesn’t care because she loves Wanda Maximoff, and she wants to marry the girl. Fears be damned.

–

She finds Clint in Tokyo 3 days later. She finds him right after he’s massacred a group of men in cold blood, drops of rain surrounding the otherwise empty street. Natasha doesn’t condemn him, she doesn’t criticize his decisions, she simply reminds him of who he is, of the kind of person he truly is.

After all, Clint Barton is the man who was sent to eliminate her but instead, he took a chance at her, he spared her life and in return, he gave her a life worth living. He saved her in more ways than can be said. She owes it to him to be by his side to remind him of the kind of person he truly is. She owes him much more.

She holds his hands as he cries of grief and hopelessness, she holds him as he weeps for his lost family, for Laura, for Nathaniel, for Cooper, and for Lila. She holds him tighter as she vows to bring them back, to bring them all back. She will do anything and everything for it to happen, not only for Clint’s family but for her family and for the second family in the avengers that she lost.

She grips the fabric of her friend’s shirt tightly, feeling the sting in her palms as her own nails dig through them. Her thoughts are of Wanda and her happiness, it shrouds everything in her mind, and she clenches her jaw until she can hear the grind from it sounding almost like bones cracking and a heart breaking.

She doesn’t take Clint back to the compound as she had discussed with Steve prior, she could hear Steve’s disappointment, she could even see it in her mind as silence fills their conversation. She can hear the despondence in his sigh, but he doesn’t argue anymore, and Natasha is grateful that Steve Rogers is as understanding as he is.

She takes Clint back home. He had begged her not to take him back to the compound and not to take him back to his barren and desolate farm. So, she takes him to her home, against her better judgement.

If she were being completely honest, the only reason why she’s even tolerating this idea was that she couldn’t wait to come back to Wanda. It hasn’t even been a week since she left but the absence of Wanda and her warmth has been an unbearable experience. Natasha doesn’t know when she started needing the witch’s presence to keep being tethered, but she knows she wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Clint hassles her about where “home” is, she knows she should have just stayed quiet and not indulge in his curiosity, there was no point in engaging in his drilling inquisitions, he would know when they arrive. But he’s being an annoying little prick and she’s feeling a little too irritated and anxious about seeing Wanda again that she does it anyway.

“I just find it weird. I’d always thought ‘home’ for you would be the compound or at the very least a spacious enough gym.” Clint starts, curiosity flooding his features as he looks over his shoulders, studying the redhead next to him. 

“I didn’t expect you to describe an isolated cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere.” he continues, eyebrows raised.

Natasha fights every nerve in her body not to roll her eyes as she keeps them focused on flying the jet and taking them back home. She’s hoping Clint is going to drop the subject if she stays silent for the whole ride but when the man relentlessly looks at her, prodding and persistent, she heaves an exasperated sigh.

“A lot has changed over the years. I have changed,” she answers vaguely and it’s only half the truth but it’s the truth, nonetheless. Clint nods, relaxing in his chair and looking away finally, he hums as if deep in thought.

A few minutes pass by and Natasha breathes thinking the conversation has ended, she can already see a faint picture of the lake close to their cabin in the distance, they’re almost there and Natasha bounces her legs in anticipation. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the older man as he begins to speak again, 

“So, is anyone gonna be waiting for us when we get there? You seem awfully excited.”

Natasha’s heart skips a beat, and she bites her bottom lip to keep herself from blushing, her cheeks turn a light shade of pink anyway and Clint smirks. “I don’t want to hear a word from you when we land,” she says instead of answering, trying to keep a smile from forming on her face.

Natasha lands the jet at a decent distance from the cabin a few seconds later, nearly hopping out of her chair and practically jumping out of the jet forgoing the steps as she struts quickly to the cabin’s path. She doesn’t wait for Clint to get out or to make sure he’s following. She already knows he is.

She sees a faint silhouette jogging towards her under the night sky, the moon being their only source of light. She doesn’t waste any second before she jogs toward the figure herself and she could feel Wanda’s body crash into her own like a magnet pulled by its other half.

Wanda wraps her arms around Natasha’s neck tightly, burying her face in the older woman’s shoulders and pulling her impossibly closer. Natasha wraps her arms around the younger woman’s waist, inhaling the scent of the woman’s hair and she feels calm again. 

Wanda pulls away, looking into the older woman’s face, cradling it with her hands. Natasha observes the brunette’s bare feet on the grass, eyebrows furrowed and confused as to why Wanda is standing barefooted on the freezing cold snow. She’s about to say something about it when the other girl stops her, “I put a heating spell on my feet, it’s okay. I’m okay.” she says with a large smile on her face and Natasha relaxes on her hold.

Wanda is a little shorter than Natasha this way and Natasha can feel her heart swoon even more for the woman, it feels like she’s seeing more of the younger woman in this view. She moves a strand of hair away from the brunette’s head, she looks down, scanning the brunette’s outfit. She's wearing a red velvet leather jacket that runs along her shoulders. It really is the perfect colour for her.

“Is that my jacket?” she asks with a smug smile, reminiscent of the time Wanda had first stolen her favourite jacket. Well, stolen may not be the right word as the jacket looked too good on the other girl that she didn't even bother to ask for it back. More like she willingly ignored the fact that the witch at the time had worn the jacket for 7 days in a row after her brother’s untimely death and when Wanda finally tried to give it back, all washed and cleaned, she nonchalantly told her to keep it since she already has a bountiful amount of leather jackets in her closet. Which is true, but it really wasn’t the reason why she allowed her to keep it.

She knows she felt her heart swell at the sight of Wanda, shy but happy and gripping the material against her chest. Maybe she should have let the brunette hug her at the time instead of making up an excuse to leave.

She wishes it gave the brunette the comfort she couldn’t physically and emotionally give at the very least.

The young witch rolls her eyes fondly as she moves the hand resting on the redhead’s face to the back of her neck, “Yes. Believe it or not, it soothes me when you’re not around.” she says, face flushing red and whether it’s from the cold or from the heat she might feel in her chest by that admission, Natasha doesn’t know, and she doesn’t care enough to speculate when the love of her life looks so breathtaking under this pale moonlight.

“Well, I guess that explains the jacket then,” she says with a dazed smile, tightening her grip around the witch's waist. “I missed you.” she continues in a whisper and her heart ascends to heaven when she receives a large, sheepish smile from the witch. “I missed you too.”

They stay like that for a few more seconds before they get interrupted by a loud clearing of throat, they turn around simultaneously to find an amused-looking Clint watching them.

“I hate to be interrupting you two lovebirds but it’s freezing out here. I feel like I’m only five seconds away from getting hypothermic,” he says with an exaggerated shivering motion and Wanda chuckles while Natasha only rolls her eyes at this dramatic old man.

“It’s good to see you too, Clint,” Wanda says as she breaks apart from the redhead (much to the redhead’s dismay) to give the man a fleeting hug before guiding him back to the cabin.

Clint takes Natasha's virtually abandoned room. The two women allowed him to settle into the cabin unattended for a couple of minutes, wanting to stay closer to each other after the three long days they'd spent apart.

Wanda busies herself with preparing dinner while the redhead sets the table for the three of them. Emerald orbs bored into the swaying figure, humming to a Sokovian folklore tune she's already become familiar with. The redhead smiles at the sight, her heart beating loudly against her chest, but her mind is tranquil and at bay. She leans against the wall, arms wrapped in front of her chest as she observes the young witch.

She’s never once imagined even being so enamoured by anyone like this, to feel her heart become so alive in ways she never knew it could be at the mere thought of someone.

She's never allowed herself to dream about moments like this, never allowed herself to hope for a feeling so akin, so close to, so similar to love.

She thinks about her past, she thinks about the very first moment she's truly laid eyes on Wanda, thinks about what she felt at that time and no matter how hard she tries to think about it, all she feels is a swelling in her chest, as if the love she has for Wanda now has always been present, just never touched.

And perhaps that is the case. Perhaps she has always loved Wanda, long before she knew of the other girl and long before she knew she was capable of it. Truth be told, she didn't care to know much about when it all started, all she knows is that if there is only one thing in the world that is easy, it's loving Wanda Maximoff.

When Wanda turns around, her emerald eyes shine like a treasure reflected under the sun, when her lips slowly turn upwards, the room seems to glow impossibly brighter around them, and when she speaks it sounds like a song she's never going to tire of hearing.

“Hi,” Wanda says bashfully, feeling utterly diffident under the intense gaze of the redhead before her.

“I love you,” Natasha says with a soft smile on her face, emerald green eyes conveying so much tenderness and desire.

This isn't the first time Natasha has said these three words to Wanda and the witch knows it wouldn't be the last either. Still, she can’t help the way her heart swells with immense exuberance and ecstasy whenever she hears it coming from the redhead. She doesn't think she'll ever tire of hearing it as her lips spread so wide her cheeks begin to hurt.

“I know,” she says simply before leaning in to place a soft and tender kiss on the other woman's lips, her hand resting on the redhead’s chest, feeling the way her heart beats as if it's knocking on its walls, begging to be released and be caught by Wanda's palms.

She would give her heart up to the witch in a heartbeat, Natasha muses as she runs her hands up to cup the brunette’s pale cheeks, deepening the kiss. The redhead tilts her head to the other side and opens her mouth for the brunette to slip her tongue, every fibre of her shuddering at every touch, it craves for more.

Natasha is about to slip her own tongue into the brunette’s mouth, grabbing a hold of the back of her neck to pull her closer when a loud sound of a chair scraping against the floor causes the younger woman to jump and pull away, a loud click echoing in the kitchen as their lips are pulled apart abruptly. Natasha briefly leans more towards the other girl, chasing after the tender touch of her soft plump lips, not wanting it to end just yet but she breaks from her reverie quickly when she realizes who had caused the rude interruption.

She narrows her eyes at the man, her face flushed and annoyed at the sudden interruption.

“I’m really happy for you lovebirds and I hate to interrupt your makeout sesh but,” Clint begins, sitting unceremoniously on the chair with an old man groan and looking up at the women before him expectantly, “I am absolutely famished.” he finishes with a wide smile directed at both women.

The younger woman ducks down her face to hide its intense flush, feeling slightly embarrassed at being caught in the middle of a rather passionate kiss with Natasha while the other girl only rolls her eyes in annoyance, albeit the unmistakable fond look on her face at her friend.

They sit and eat quietly at the dinner table, the air thick with unspoken questions around them. Wanda breaks the silence first, unable to withstand the tension any longer. “Aren’t you gonna ask us anything?” Wanda says, putting her utensils down and facing the older man directly, determined.

As if startled, Clint looks up curiously, head still slightly facing down as he chews on his food, “Huh? Me?” he asks stupidly, mouth still full. Wanda huffs in annoyance, looking over her shoulder towards her girlfriend who wears the same doltish expression on her face.

“Uh…” the redhead begins, unsure of what to say as her emerald orbs oscillate between her girlfriend and her best friend. “Clint, how’s the food?” Natasha asks and immediately turns to look at her girlfriend for approval.

“Fantastic! Compliments to the chef!” The hawkeye exclaims excitedly, holding up his cup of water like he’s proposing a toast which earns him a smirk from the redhead who takes her own glass to clink his. Wanda only rolls her eyes at them but there’s an amused smile on her lips.

“That’s not what I meant.” she says, “I mean aren’t you gonna ask us about… us?” Wanda does a motion in her hands moving back and forth between her and Natasha. The redhead looks at her, amused.

“Hmm, well, I’ve always known that you two liked each other…” he leans back on the backrest of the chair, tapping his chin lightly in thought, “But I guess I never imagined Natasha over here would have the guts to ask you out.” he finishes with a light shrug.

“You always knew we liked each other?”

“What do you mean ‘guts to ask her out’?”

Both women said simultaneously, a questioning glare pointed at the man before them.

“Look,” he begins, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, “I'm the hawkeye, I see things a little more clearly than everyone else. And what I saw a couple of years ago was that your stares linger a little too long and Natasha was too much of a chicken to try and approach you.” he finishes with a smirk when he sees the witch’s wide smile and the redhead's visible distaste at being called a ‘chicken’.

“Also, Nat carries a locket with your face on it around on missions. You know, like the one Steve has with Peggy? It’s pretty hard to miss. And very gay.” ” he continues his exposition of the redhead unprompted, earning him a few leftover foods flying his way. For someone who’s not a hawkeye, Natasha has an impeccable aim. She hits him square in between his eyes with a leftover steak bone and he lets out a loud whine in pain.

“Nat, don't throw food around.” Wanda fixes her girlfriend with a glare and Natasha backs away with a shrug, still throwing imaginary daggers toward her now giggling friend through her eyes.

“It was an electronic locket, and it projected every avenger's faces,” Natasha says, chewing on leftovers to try and hide her blush. It doesn't work. She takes a quick glance at Wanda who is looking at her with a tender and sweet smile, one that could melt her and bring her to heaven, she smiles back, “I didn’t have many pockets when we go on missions, so I usually keep them tucked in my boots. I keep it in my army surplus vest now, close to my heart.” she says softly, letting her cheeks flush freely.

“Oh yeah? Is that what it was?” the Hawkeye says, breaking them from their reverie, “Now that I think about it, I think I've seen maybe Steve and my face on there once or twice for a couple of seconds, but you got Wanda’s face on there for like an hour or something.”

“Two days.” Natasha says as she pops a red grape in her mouth, “I configured the locket so it has everyone else's faces appear for 20 seconds each and Wanda's for two days.” she finishes with a smug smile, feeling the heat of the other woman's stare at the side of her face. She doesn’t dare turn and look, not trusting herself to hold back. She's slightly scared that they're turning into so much like Melina and Alexei.

“Twenty seconds?! Is that how little value I am to you?” Clint gasps in faux offence, putting a hand up to his chest to really emphasize how hurt he is.

“Hmm, maybe 22 seconds actually... or was it 15 seconds? Memory's a little too fuzzy to tell” she counters and laughs when it's his turn to throw her food, getting scolded by the young witch in the process. She sticks her tongue out at him childishly.

Clint turns a questioning gaze towards the other woman in the room, “How did this asshole convince you to date her? Pietro would be so disappointed with you dating such an ass.” he says and Wanda laughs, “Pietro would probably be impressed” she replies earning a proud smirk from the redhead. Natasha tilts her head towards Clint in a challenge.

“Oh, I bet she begged you for it. I could just see this shithead on her knees begging.” 

“There are lots of things I’d get down on my knees for Wanda for, Clint. That wasn’t one of them, but I’d gladly do it if she asked.” Natasha says, and it takes a few minutes for the innuendo to sink in. It turns out that was the last nail in the coffin for the Hawkeye as he abruptly gets up to leave, the drag of the chair causing a sharp squeaking noise. He walks away, yelling profanities about how disgusting the redhead is and how he didn’t need to know any of that and Wanda bursts out laughing at his retreating form.

It takes a week before Clint is finally ready to go back home.

They spent his last day with them drinking and talking and watching sitcoms all night until Wanda falls asleep on Natasha’s shoulders and the redhead carefully carried her back into her room and tucked her in a blanket, kissing her goodnight.

When Natasha gets back into the living room, she finds her friend still on the couch staring into the empty screen as if he's deep in thought.

“You should really go to sleep now. It's late and you're leaving early tomorrow.” the redhead declares as she plops on the couch next to him unceremoniously. 

“I was just thinking about how empty the farm and the house would be when I get there. It's probably dusty now too, I haven't moved a single thing on there since-” he cut himself off mid-sentence, taking a long, bated breath and running his palms up on his face in a soothing manner.

Natasha reaches out beside her to rub soothingly at her friend's back, and he sobs freely. She's reminded of the ones she's lost, reminded of the harsh reality that Melina, Yelena and Alexei are gone, reminded of how hopeless their situation is now that the stones are gone as well. Nothing else in the universe would be powerful enough to undo the snap, and it reminds her of how hopeless everything is.

“I miss them” he lets out in a croak, “So much” he finishes and a lone tear escapes Natasha's eye, she continues to try and soothe her best friend wordlessly, it’s the least she can do for him.

Clint had been the one to break her out of the red room, he had been the one to save her life and give it a new purpose, one that she could be proud of, he had spared her but not abandoned her. He's helped her through so much and she's more determined now than ever to help him get his life back. To give him the hope that he needs to get his family back.

It's what he deserves and it's what she owes to him. She owes him her life.

They stay in dormant silence for a few more hours, just taking in the comfortable silence in the presence of each other.

Clint is the first to break the silence when he sniffs out an apology and gets up as if to leave, Natasha only shakes her head and tells him there's nothing to apologize for which earned her a genuine smile from the man.

He walks a few steps over to where his bags are laying haphazardly on the ground. He pulls out a small red velvet pouch from there and sits back down next to the redhead.

“Do you love her?” he asks suddenly that it makes Natasha pause and look over at him, confused. “That’s a rhetorical question, I know you do. I can see it in the way you look at her with that disgusting look I've never seen you give anyone else. It reminds me of how I look at Laura. Anyway, I guess the real question is, how much do you love her?” he finishes his little rambling with a question.

Natasha thinks about it for only a few seconds, thinking of all the numbers and arithmetic answers she could give but only settles for, “More than my life.”

Clint smiles at the answer as if satisfied and tosses the pouch onto her lap. She looks at her friend in question, picking the pouch up and opening it once she gets a nod of affirmation from the older man.

She finds a small ring inside and when she takes it out, she sees it in a better light. It's a ring covered in scarlet hues and dark patterns that surround it. She puts it up and it shines bright red under the pale moonlight, it’s beautiful she thinks.

“I made that ring for Laura, but it never felt quite right for her, you know? It's not finished but I figured you're crafty and butch enough to make some modifications and finish it” he says jokingly and chuckles when Natasha only pushes him to the side harshly, not taking her eyes off of the ring.

“It’s yours to give if you want.” he says once more and Natasha turns to look at him, “When you propose,” he says as if it was obvious as if it’s an inevitable event that'll happen. He's not wrong, she thinks.

She smiles at him tenderly, tears streaking down her face, and she hugs him in gratitude.

“Don’t let her slip away,” he says before pulling away. 

He leaves a few hours later and Natasha holds the ring close to her chest, Clint’s last message etched in her mind as she thinks of Wanda.

–

These days, Natasha has spent most of her time cooped up in a little shed. She’d called it a “garage” but Wanda would beg to differ (She’s decided there was no point in arguing with Natasha over the right terminology, Natasha’s mind about it is already made up).

That alone wouldn’t normally concern the young witch, she’s always known Natasha is a bit of a workaholic, she finds it difficult to stay dormant and relaxed for a few days, maybe even hours and that, unfortunately, comes with her harsh upbringing. 

It broke the witch’s heart hearing about the story of Natasha’s childhood, how she’d longed for an actual family, how she’d longed for her mother and how she thought she’s had it as a child until it gets ripped brutally from her grasp and she’s had to live most of her life alone as a cold-blooded killer.

Her heart melted at her lover’s stories of her sister, Yelena, it had reminded her so much of Pietro. She could feel the love and longing for her sister when Natasha tells her story. She could feel every resurgence of hope go through her as Natasha’s eyes light up with the hope of saving them and bringing her family back. 

After all, she knows that if she could, she would bring Pietro and her parents back in a heartbeat no matter what it takes. But for now, Wanda thinks, she needs to be here to tether Natasha as the light of hope dwindles with each passing day and she likes to think that she’s done quite a decent job at helping the redhead unwind for even just a little bit.

Their life in the cabin is mellow, especially being isolated from most of civilization, and it has helped them both to take things at face value, enjoy the little things together, and spend their time wrapped in each other’s embrace as they watch whatever sitcoms or movies they wanted.

But these days Natasha has been restless, she would wake up in the middle of the night while they’re sleeping as if an idea came through her, and she would lose more sleep if she’d left it alone. She would spend a lot of her time in her garage working and would come out looking dishevelled and unkempt which isn’t typically the redhead who had always been careful about her appearance at the very least.

Normally, Natasha being secretive isn’t a problem for Wanda, they’d always had an unspoken understanding that whatever secrets they keep, they will always be told at the right time. They trusted each other that much and Wanda had always respected that about the redhead and their relationship but just this time, she’s had enough. Especially with the redhead skipping meals and only consuming water for days on end. She needs to get to the bottom of things.

“Fuck!” the brunette could hear through the door of the shed, and she could feel herself jump a little, feeling dirty for sneaking up on her girlfriend.

“Goddammit, how the hell does Tony do this shit all the time?!” she hears another whine coming from the redhead, it’s more of a mumbling sound than anything and the brunette can’t help but think it’s adorable.

The shed isn’t that big and within a few seconds, the brunette is standing behind the redhead, sneaking a peek at her work.

“Shit!” the redhead lets out a loud curse once more, “Well, that’s another prototype down the drain” she can hear her sigh, exasperated. She looks over the work not really understanding a thing, but she can vaguely see the architecture of a ring-like object drawn on a large bumwad covered by an assemblage of random sheets on top of it. She can vaguely make out the handwriting of Tony Stark on an envelope in one of the sheets, About damn time, Romanoff . -TS , it writes.

“What’s ‘about damn time’, Romanoff?” Wanda says, startling the redhead who jumps up from her chair and quite literally stumbles onto the table in an attempt to collect (or cover? Wanda is not quite sure) whatever’s on it.

“Wanda!” Natasha exclaims with a huge fake and strained smile on her face, “What are you doing here, honey?” she asks feigning nonchalance as she tries to block the other girl’s view from the table. Wanda narrows her eyes at the redhead, not quite in the mood for skirting around the subject now that she’s clearly trying to hide something from her.

The witch crosses her arms in front of her chest, “I was looking to see where you ran off to. You’ve been preoccupied recently.” she starts pointedly at the older woman, her stance unyielding and unwavering. She could see the redhead swallow a huge gulp before averting her eyes, “Is Tony making you do missions again? Are you in danger?” she asks, concerned, dropping her crossed arms to place both of her hands on her girlfriend.

Natasha shakes her head vigorously, “No, no he isn’t. It’s-” she says, with a pause, clearly contemplating her next words, “I’m making him help me create something.” she blurts out, although ambiguous, it’s still too much to tell. She’s not ready to reveal her plans to the brunette just yet.

“Create what?”

“I can’t say what. Not yet anyway.”

“Okay. But what is it for?”

“It’s for you,” Natasha answers with a genuine smile, watching the other girl’s features curl in confusion. “For me?” Wanda asks, confused and her girlfriend only nods and hums in response. “For what?” Wanda adds in question, taking a step closer to the redhead to peek at the table behind but Natasha only moves in her way, grabbing her by the hips and moving her a few steps back.

“For your birthday,” she responds simply, a wry smile on her face as she looks straight into the other girl’s emerald eyes, Wanda narrows her own, not buying it.

“My birthday is five months from now.” 

“I’m a very advanced thinker and planner.”

Wanda swats the redhead’s hands away from her hips and places her own to seem more domineering, “You’re lying.” she says with a huff and the redhead lets out a wide grin that could light up the whole forest, the witch thinks. “Only on the birthday part of it.” she says and Wanda groans childishly.

Natasha places a sweet and fleeting kiss on her forehead, “I’ll give it to you at the right time.” she whispers it like a promise, and she knows it will be enough for the brunette.

“Fine, but we’re watching the Dick Van Dyke show today!” Wanda exclaims in bargaining, already moving to get out of the shed before Natasha could argue any further. “Wait, I thought I was the one picking today’s movie!” Natasha yells out after a jogging Wanda and smiles at her fading figure as the witch disappears into their cabin.

She feels another resurgence in her body, a new motivation to complete the project.

She finishes refurbishing the ring that Clint gave her with some of Tony’s architectural design 7 hours later, keeping it locked in her modified locket and safe within the pocket of her chest. She spends the rest of the night cuddled up next to the love of her life, her mind light for the first time in a long time.

–

They get an unlikely guest in Bruce Banner and Thor Odinson one day. Apparently, New Asgard isn’t too far off from where they’re located at, Wanda and Natasha had found out the hard way when Thor’s latest outburst had caused quite the ruckus at a town nearby where the couple had decided to spend the night after being invited to a festival by their “neighbours” in town.

Seeing them both a few years after the snap had been quite the surprise for the couple, especially after the transformations the two have apparently gone through. Banner, for instance, has fully embraced his Hulk side and is now permanently green. It stunned Natasha too much that she couldn’t help but stare for a little longer than necessary (much to Wanda’s genuine annoyance).

Thor, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be coping too well and Wanda could sympathize with that. He has lost a lot during the battle against Thanos, and perhaps he had lost more than the people as well, losing his will to fight. She can only give him a tight-lipped smile as he overexcitedly squishes both her and Natasha in his arms in a drunken stupor, beer intact in his hand.

“We need more beer!” Thor had exclaimed, scurrying around town to gather as much beer as he could, “We have much to discuss lady avengers!” he continues animatedly, downing his own bottle of beer as his three peers look over him concerningly. Bruce, having already given up trying to get him to stop drinking, averts his gaze from his celestial friend to look at the women before him.

“This is so exciting and I’m really happy to see you two-” he cuts himself off midsentence to point at Wanda, “we’re cool now by the way. There are no leftover hard feelings coming from me here,” he tells Wanda with his typical, Bruce Banner kind smile and Wanda feels relief overcome her, she smiles back at him as he continues, “But what are you two doing here?” he asks, looking between the two women.

“I mean, we’re not close, Wanda, so I’m not so sure about you but Nat, I was pretty sure you’d be all up in the compound still trying to do some avengers work and keeping everyone at bay.” He says, before taking a short swig of his beer and a mouthful of his huge steak.

The redhead pulls the brunette’s hand into her own, in a clear gesture of affection, watching the other girl blush beside her with a tender look on her face before saying, “We ran away.” she answers, not really looking at Banner as she says it, too preoccupied with the view of her girlfriend trying to hide the red flush on her face, she smiles wide.

“Yeah, we live together in an isolated cabin not too far away from here,” Wanda says, stumbling over her own words.

“Oh.” is all Bruce says as he takes another swig at his beer, a little longer this time.

“Lovely!” Thor exclaims drunkenly, “I take it you two have been living together for quite a while now? Let me guess, 3 years now?” He says excitedly, trying to pry into the two’s relationship with a large smile.

“3 years and 3 months now. How did you know?” Natasha responds, a little stunned at Thor’s accurate guess. “Just my Godly instincts.” the God with the dishevelled hair shrugs in an attempt to appear nonchalant but the large and cocky grin on his face gives him away. She knows he’s relishing in being right.

“Oh, that long?” Bruce says quizzically, looking between them two once again, trying to make sense of their situation, “So, you’ve been living together as… friends?” he asks dumbly, a faint blush on his face as he looks embarrassed to even ask.

“Don’t be stupid Banner, no one in their right minds would live in a cabin isolated from everyone for 3 years just to be roommates.” the God pauses with a laugh, pointing to his friend and looking over at the two women as if he's telling them of how dense he is.

Bruce only shakes his head and Thor looks back at him, “Clearly, they are lovers!” he exclaims followed by a loud, boisterous laugh as if Bruce had said the funniest joke to him, slapping the big green man on the back in the process. Thor takes another huge swig of his beer bottle.

Natasha tries to suppress her smile as Bruce looks at them and then at their intertwined hands, awe-stricken and as if in realization, nods his head without another question. “Oh, I see…” he starts, darting his eyes at the couple once more, then he gives them a kind and genuine smile in the most Bruce Banner fashion.

“You look happy,” he says to Natasha and the redhead just smiles genuinely and nods, “The happiest I've ever been,” she says as she squeezes the younger woman's hand and Wanda looks at her with stars in her eyes as if every moment spent with the redhead is the best moment of her life.

“I'm happy for you two,” he says, and he means it with all his heart. Whatever feelings he and Natasha had for each other, however fleeting it was, had been born out of genuine adoration and a sense of wanting to settle in, a sense of wanting to be with someone who can understand and live with the monsters within them, and a sense of wanting to be loved like they never felt before.

And it could have possibly worked had he stayed, Bruce thinks. He could have been genuinely happy with Natasha, living isolated from everyone, from every danger and from everything. Had he stayed she probably would have been with him instead of Wanda, but as he looks between the two, as he sees the love born out of something he can't quite comprehend just yet, he realizes he and Natasha will never have what they have. Natasha will never love him as much as she loves her.

It makes Bruce glad he left all those years ago among many other reasons.

“As am I”, Thor declares solemnly at the two, “Overjoyed to see young love blossom between you two. You see, I had an old flame once, her name is Jane…” Thor continues to ramble on about Jane and how he’s lost her, and Natasha had zoned him out. Instead, she keeps her focus on Wanda listening intently to Thor’s story, sharing a few of her pointers here and there towards the celestial in front of her.

Over the years of living with Wanda, Natasha has learned to accept that her heart will always move erratically at the sight of the young woman. It used to drive her insane, to the point where she wanted nothing more than to throw up her whole heart and discard it, but now, although the beating is and will forever be invasive, it only fills her with an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort.

And when Wanda lets out her melodic laugh, she instinctively reaches into her jacket pocket and grip at the locket that holds the face of the woman she loves and the ring that has become the physical manifestation of that love. She knows she’ll carry it in her heart forever, in every universe.

“Alright Thor, that’s enough self-deprecating jokes for now.” Natasha hears Bruce declare, trying to calm their friend down by patting him comfortingly on his back and the celestial tries to deny the accusation with a snort but the green man cuts him off, “We’re talking about Natasha and Wanda here.” he says pointing at the two.

They spend the next hour and a half talking and drinking, with Bruce relentlessly teasing the couple and Thor going on tangents about the people he’s loved and the people he’s lost. It had been a pleasant night, Natasha thinks. It was an especially nice night when she sees her girlfriend interact and be friendly with what she’s considered family for the longest time even after everything that Wanda has put them through, she’s always known that they were capable of letting Wanda in like she did and she’s glad to see that happen firsthand.

Wanda and Natasha had to drag the boys back to their cabins as they both were on the verge of passing out in the middle of a nearly clearing festival. Thank the celestials for Wanda’s power, the redhead thinks as she observes Wanda levitating the big green man on their trek back to the cabin.

She has Thor on her shoulders, practically dragging his dead weight back into her cabin. Truth be told, Wanda could have used her powers on both men, but she noticed the exhaustion on the other girl’s features that she insisted on helping out by carrying the blond on her back.

They throw the two men unceremoniously on the living room floor with only a decent-sized futon to cushion their backs as they succumb to deep sleep.

They settle in for the night with the boys sprawled out on their living room floor, Natasha in the kitchen preparing tea and Wanda resting on a hammock Natasha built for them outside (Natasha had really embraced the role of the crafty and butch girlfriend). She takes careful steps over the boys as she makes her way outside to her girlfriend.

“Nice view.” she declares, handing the cup of tea to the brunette who accepts it with a grateful smile. Wanda takes a sip of her tea, careful not to burn her tongue, Natasha does the same as she moves to sit beside her girlfriend on the hammock. The movement causes the brunette to slide over slightly, close to the redhead’s side almost practically sitting on her lap, the tea spilling a little on her hands, but she doesn’t mind, she only snuggles into her girlfriend’s arms closer, laying her head on top of the shorter girl’s head and basking in her protective embrace.

They sit in silence for a while, sipping on their teas, watching the stars flicker in the sky and watching the dark clouds cover the moon, dimming their surroundings for until it moves out of its way and the light reflects on the moon and it shines on them like a spotlight.

“This would be a really good lighting to dance to” the redhead whispers into the brunette’s ears, sending slight shivers down the younger woman’s back. Natasha smirks and without warning, she pushes both of their bodies up and in the middle of the lawn, swiftly discarding their cups as she maneuvers Wanda into her chest with expert ease.

It almost always slips Wanda’s mind just how impressive Natasha’s upper body strength is on top of her lower body strength. Perhaps it's the way Natasha’s petite and slim figure that almost makes anybody underestimate her strength. It lights a fire in the younger woman’s body and fills it with inexorable desire.

Wanda subconsciously wraps her arms around the shorter girl’s waist, moving in the rhythm of invisible music, only audible to both women, perhaps privy to the beat of their hearts.

“Were you ever this romantic with Bruce?” the brunette asks, the question coming out as unprecedently bitter and laced with a slight hint of jealousy. Natasha raises an eyebrow at her girlfriend and wears an amused smirk on her face as she notices the clear jealousy in her tone.

“I’m always this romantic,” she answers with a cocky smirk, her gaze unwavering and steady on the younger woman as Wanda tries her best to avert hers from the redhead.

“Well, does that ‘always’ include the time you’ve spent wanting Bruce Banner?” Wanda asks through gritted teeth although still swaying rhythmically with Natasha. “Is it jealousy I’m hearing from you, Maximoff?” Natasha teases in an attempt to ease the tension in her girlfriend’s features. 

“No, it’s called a question actually, something I learned in my English lessons, Romanoff.” Natasha snorts at her girlfriend’s smartass answer, earning a proud grin from the brunette, though there’s still the residual annoyance in her features.

“As much as I think jealousy looks cute on you” she pauses to wiggle her eyebrows at the younger woman who rolls her eyes at the redhead, urging her to continue, “I want to reassure you that I have never in my life spontaneously slow danced with anyone in the middle of a land with tall grass, no music and the only source of light being the sun’s reflection on the moon.” she declares, boring her gaze into the other woman’s eyes. The sincerest she’s ever felt in her life had all been with Wanda.

“So, yeah, I’m always romantic and I’ve been romantic with so many different people, even Bruce. But I’m sharing something with you that I’ve never had with anyone else, Wanda Maximoff.” she says as she rests her head at the side of the other girl’s head, eyes closed and body swaying to a tune she cannot physically hear but is loud in her head.

“Something I can’t say with words, something that doesn’t exist in any vocabulary.” she grabs the younger woman’s hand and guides it towards her chest, letting the brunette’s hand rest on the most vulnerable part of her body as flickers of red hue emanate from the younger woman’s hand. Natasha feels the electricity from Wanda’s powers as it feels her heart beat, feels every electrical impulse from her sinoatrial node, and feels every movement of her blood as it gets pumped by her heart. It’s painful but it fills her with solace she’s never known before.

“Something you can only feel within me.” Natasha finishes with a smile and Wanda matches that same smile as the red in her hand slowly dissipates yet her hand stays where it’s resting in the other girl’s chest. “Wow, you really are romantic,” she says with a chuckle.

“Okay, now it’s my turn to be jealous.” Natasha starts jokingly, pulling her head back slightly to watch the young brunette, “Do you love me as much as you loved Vision?” she asks, a little more seriously than the younger woman expected her to be, insecurity lacing in her tone for just a bit.

“I’ve always loved Vision, more than I ever loved anyone else.” Wanda starts, every movement of her legs feeling light and unencumbered. 

“Losing him, I thought it was the end of the line for me. I never once imagined a life full of light and happiness without him. I only imagined sorrow and darkness because Vision was the one who pulled me out of my own darkness each and every time.” 

Natasha listens intently, she can feel Wanda’s heartbeat through the back of her hand that is still gripping Wanda’s against her chest as it presses against the younger girl’s chest as well. Its beat is rapid, almost erratic and unpredictable but there is a sense of calm in it that Natasha couldn’t put into words. It feels exactly like her own.

“But then, I remembered him saying something that has stuck to me to this day and has helped me through so much of my grief.” she reminisces with a smile, 

“‘What is grief if not love persevering.’ and being with you, Nat, has made me realize that Vision was right. He’s always believed in the light in me, in my capability of loving and choosing to love even if it comes subconsciously, even when I think I’m no longer capable of it, that all that love has been sucked out of me from all the loss I’ve gone through. But now, when I think of what he said to me, I think about you.

Vision may have been the love that will stay in my mind forever, but you, Natasha Romanoff, you are that and more. You are my heart and my soul. When I think of drowning in sorrow, I think about losing you, when I think about happiness I think of simple days with you, and when I think about forever, I think about spending it with you.

And I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Recency bias is a real thing’ and you know what, that may be true, but there is no doubt in my mind that there is no universe where Wanda Maximoff doesn’t love Natasha Romanoff. Even if I don’t know you, even if I forget about you, my heart will always choose to love you even if it doesn’t know.”

Wanda declares, raising her spare hand to cup her girlfriend’s cheek and wipe away the stray tear falling down her face as she continues with a tender smile, “I never thought I’d be capable of a love like this. Certainly not after Vision, and I think some parts of him knew I was capable of it but not for him. I think he’s always known it would be you who’d make me fall in love this way, Natasha Romanoff.” 

Natasha is too stunned to speak, she opens her mouth and closes it, laughing at her own stupor as she tries to wipe away the streaks of tears falling down her face. She’s never doubted the young woman’s love for her, but hearing her verbalize everything she feels is such a euphoric feeling, something that can render anybody speechless.

“Now who’s the romantic?” she jokes, and Wanda laughs along with her, their eyes still cloudy from the tears but as they look into each other’s eyes, it’s like looking into each other’s souls.

“You could just kiss me,” Wanda says with a shrug and giggles when Natasha doesn’t hesitate for a second to pull her into her arms once more and kiss her with a burning passion.

They don’t sleep for the rest of the night after that.

–

There is no physical manifestation of herself in this dark and void realm, she realizes. She is merely an energy floating in space with no matter and yet, somehow, she has a voice and someway, she can feel the tears prickle at every atom in her energy.

She has dealt with the pain she’s thought was insurmountable her entire life, she has been tormented and swallowed by grief, and she has learned to cope with them all. After all, ‘pain only makes us stronger’, she remembers in Melina’s voice so vividly it’s almost like she’s there with her. But even with all of that, nothing could ever compare to the pain of her regret.

As if sensing her distress, the voice in space speaks again, “Is it love that is causing you such grief?” it asks, curiosity in its tone. “Or could it, perhaps, be regret?” it finishes.

Natasha contemplates the question for a long while. She could have just said it was regret and it would have been the truth, but the more she thinks about it, the more she’s unsure of the real answer.

She stays silent as the next memory engulfs her.

–

It’s a paradox. All of it is a paradox to Natasha Romanoff. She has never been this happy for a long stretch in her life and it feels so wrong and so right at the same time. It fills her with dread, and it fills her with a terrifying calmness. It breaks her and it makes her. Each state of her mind is confused, it’s all so confusing.

Before this Natasha had lost the people she loved, she had felt hopeless and alone as the people around her moved on but before this Wanda has lost more. Wanda had been battered and bruised, broken and corruptible, fragile and savable and Natasha saw the shattered parts of her and decided to pick up the pieces. She needed to mend her like it was a mission to complete, she needed it to give herself purpose. 

As egocentric as that may sound, it was Natasha’s genuine thought. That the only way she could live her life was to work, complete missions and take the next but along the way Natasha had found something different, no, she rediscovered something buried beneath the deepest pits of her heart.

And for a moment she was content with just living. With not having any purpose and with not having any missions, she was complacent about the peaceful life that being in Wanda’s embrace has to offer.

But, of course, nothing good in life ever lasts. Her mind invades her with fears and doubts and it’s not fair. It has not been fair the moment she offered her hand to the other woman, to take it without any regard, to pull her in her arms and whisper sweet nothings into the base of her head, to let her fall into her shoulders, weeping and sobbing until there are no tears left to shed.

It wasn’t fair to stay with her, to not allow her the space to properly accept her loss and move on, to just invade her life before she could properly mend herself when she knows she cannot promise forever. But the ache she felt when she couldn’t feel Wanda the way she yearned to have been overwhelming and excruciating it killed her entire being every time she couldn’t.

It wasn’t fair of her to trace every inch of Wanda’s skin like it’s a worship, to draw maps in every speck of her freckles, to lavish in the way her body felt beneath her, to pursue every arch in her body, to let every whisper of moans ring in her ears, to let her take control, to allow herself to be pulled into every enchantment and spells the witch casts on her and almost promising to stay.

It wasn’t fair to hand Wanda her heart in a promise of a lifetime and to accept Wanda’s broken and mended heart, so easy to break, so difficult to repair.

And, perhaps, the most damning of it all, it wasn’t fair of Natasha to disregard the reality of their situation and promise Wanda a forever that they both know isn’t available for people like them. It’s callous, selfish and inequitable.

So when Natasha goes down on one knee and pulls out a scarlet ring encrusted with a dark, intricate pattern that runs along the entirety of the loop, she sees Wanda’s hands come up to cover her mouth shakily, trying (and failing) to keep her tears at bay, she knows she’s being incredibly unfair to the other woman.

But when she forgets the words that she’s rehearsed for weeks and months of preparing for this moment, and all she can tell her brain to do to keep herself from sounding barmy and mindless, is to say how she created the ring like it’s an infomercial, she couldn’t care less about being unfair. She tells her about how she’d gotten a scarlet ring from Barton and had enlisted Tony’s help to architect a special ring for her. She stammers over her words awkwardly which has never happened before, it’s making her look silly.

She continues to explain the way that the ring is coated with nanotechnology that activates with a two-finger tap at any parts of the ring and how it can only be activated by her and Natasha. She stutters embarrassingly when she tells her about how the technology allows for the material to gleam in hues of red at the beat of their hearts in an unlimited range so that whenever she felt like she’s missing her, she would feel comfort in knowing that her heart is with her forever.

And when Natasha finally calms and remembers the words she’s supposed to declare, all the care of her unfairness dissipates as she sees the brunette nod frantically, with tears pooling at the base of her neck and the middle of her collarbone and the witch shouts “Yes!” before she can even utter one word.

When Wanda hastily pulls her up to her feet and wraps her arms around her so tight, it feels like the other girl is actively trying to crush her with a stunning amount of unbridled core strength she wasn’t aware the other woman possessed until now, and then just a few seconds later she feels herself being pulled into a long and passionate kiss, she knows she’s too far gone to care about doing the right thing.

Natasha carries a lot of weight of doubts in her chest but one thing she’s certain of, even before today is that despite being glaringly iniquitous, Wanda’s answer will always be yes.

And maybe that’s her greatest crime, her doorway to being the biggest villain. Maybe allowing Wanda to fall in love with her makes her the biggest monster of all, but she’ll gladly play the part than not feel her warmth at all.

–

They say that the first year of marriage is the hardest and that the honeymoon phase expires sooner than most think or at least, that’s what Tony had inconspicuously whispered (not really) to her that evidently got him the stink eye from his wife, Pepper. But as she wakes for her usual morning jog and catches sight of a beautiful, naked woman on the other side of her bed, she realizes she’s still in that honeymoon phase, it’s a vibrant and strong feeling that just never seems to go away.

She stays for a while and grazes her fingertips along the edges of her wife’s pale skin, her heart flutters at the soft, contented sigh that the other woman lets out at her touch. They spent their honeymoon in Siberia, opting to spend it in the far eastern side of the world, and what she felt for Wanda there is the exact same she feels for Wanda now, if not more.

It almost feels like a crime to be this genuinely and inexplicably happy when half of the world is still gone, and people are still suffering from its aftermath. But the fact of the matter is that closing yourself up and only allowing yourself to suffer isn’t going to help anyone and she’s been coping with that thought.

Natasha is tempted to pick up her phone to call Tony and tell him off about the bullshit lies he told her about marriage, because if anything, she’s experiencing the total opposite of it.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe that she could legitimately call Wanda Maximoff her wife, no, scratch that, Wanda Maximoff-Romanoff her lawfully and spiritually wedded wife. It makes her dizzy with fulfillment just thinking about it.

She remembers a time she was so desperate for something a little akin to this, making a proposition to Bruce about how they could make it work even if it seems impossible and to be able to have this, now, built with organic love, married to the woman she loves and opening herself up to the possibility of building a family of more than two with her, it’s like a dream turned reality.

The thought of becoming a family with Wanda has absolutely terrified her. It terrifies her because she had a family, she had families that she didn’t even realize she had until half of them were removed from existence violently. The idea of creating a new family without Yelena, Melina and Alexei there to guide her, without them getting the chance to meet the love of her life, to see their children grow, it’s an incredibly lonely prospect.

She misses them. She misses them so much and she’s mourned their absence ever since they fell victim to Thanos’ snap. There’s not a day that Natasha doesn’t think of them, doesn’t long for them, doesn’t crave their presence with her now. They are her first family, after all.

She wipes at the tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she straightens herself and begins to stand up and get ready for her morning run. She needs to be strong, not only for her first family, but for Wanda and the family they’re going to build together.

Just as she moves around the bed to pick up the clothes that she had haphazardly thrown somewhere in the room the other night, she hears her wife stir under the weighted covers on their bed. She observes as the woman stretches her arms to the side Natasha sleeps in, trying to touch and feel the presence of an invisible figure. Natasha’s heart flutters at the sight.

Forgoing the clothes, she moves back to sit on the bed to catch her wife’s wandering hands on her own and as if magic, Wanda’s once furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips transform into a relaxed expression and a contented smile. Skipping one morning run won’t be too ruinous to her routine, she thinks.

It takes a few more minutes until the brunette flutters her eyes open and she smiles up at the beautiful woman next to her with a raspy, “good morning Mrs. Maximoff”. 

“And good morning to you too, Mrs. Romanoff”, the redhead would reply with a coy smile, “You know, you completely messed up my morning routine today” the agent starts with a whisper, her voice naturally raspy at its core, sending shivers down the younger woman’s spine.

Wanda’s attention is alert on her wife, but her eyes are droopy, flicking back and forth between red lips and a pair of emerald orbs whose pupils are dilated and laced with exorbitant lust. The brunette’s lips widen from side to side mindlessly and her hand reaches up to rest atop the back of the redhead’s neck as she whispers back, 

“What are you going to do about it?” she says, her voice dark and seductive. Without another word the redhead jumps on top of her wife and peppers her with little kisses on every area of her face and neck, eliciting little excited giggles from the other woman.

Their laid-back morning doesn’t last long, however when Steve calls a few minutes later with the news of Scott Lang coming back. With something invaluable, something indispensable, something paramount to anything else for so many people: a solution. A viable solution to their 5-year running issue.

From the sounds of it, the idea seems ludicrous and farfetched. Time travelling? The quantum realm? A “time heist”, as Scott so eloquently puts it (she’s only ever studied Quantum Physics to one-up the douchebags she used to gather information from back in her more prominent spy days. She’s always thought it was bullshit but perhaps, after everything she’s witnessed, she really shouldn’t have). It’s laughable but it’s better than what they ever had in the last 5 years.

Before she can allow herself to get excited about the prospect of getting everybody back, she promptly turns to the sight of her wife sitting upright on their bed, her naked top exposed while the rest of her is covered, her eyes travel to the slight grip of the duvet in her palms and then up to her face filled with uncertainty as they meet each others gaze, and Wanda gives her a tight-lipped smile.

They never quite figured out how to reconcile with the fact that Natasha would always jump at the opportunity to recoup the avengers. They’ve argued about it numerous times until it’s become a taboo topic, but they’ve always known it’s an inexorable issue they would have to face someday. That someday would be today, because no matter how much they try to deny it, no matter how much Wanda pleads, Natasha Maximoff-Romanoff will never not be an avenger.

And despite the arguments they have, despite how many times they’ve clashed with this idea, Natasha knows that deep down, Wanda understands. She always did and that’s why Wanda has never once tried to set a barrier between her and Steve, even after the countless times Steve had tried to make them come home to the compound. 

She even allowed the fossil (and sometimes Tony Stark) to help them grow their family, and not in a surrogate kind of way, but in a referring them to a (completely legitimate) organization that specializes in pregnancy research primarily with the use of bone marrow stem cells on fertile women kind of way. 

For the longest time in her life, Natasha has never once imagined a chance to have biological children, but with the technology this organization offers and with Wanda being so enthusiastic and willing about the idea of carrying her children, she’s grateful to be given the opportunity although it has never really panned out for them after 3 fruitless tries.

Natasha gives her wife a tight-lipped smile of her own and tells her everything, despite already knowing that the other woman knows. And when Natasha tells her that Rogers is coming to pick everyone up with the quinjet, Wanda nods and tells her she’s coming with them. She reassures the redhead that they’re going to bring everyone back and Natasha kisses her wife with all that she’s got before the other girl breaks away from her abruptly and runs to the bathroom to throw a heap of vomit down the toilet bowl.

The redhead rushes after her wife to hold up her hair as she continues to heave into the bowl. She tries to give her comforting pats on the back and whisper reassuring words to her wife as she eventually calms. “Are you okay?” she feels dumb for even asking when the other woman has just finished emptying everything that she’s consumed in probably the whole year. She places a hand against the damp skin of her wife’s neck and up to her forehead, feeling the abnormal heat against the back of her hand.

The witch insists that she’s fine and that it’s just a case of minor gripes, Natasha doesn’t buy it and they argue for a while before they get interrupted by Steve’s prompt arrival where the witch hurriedly gets dressed and exits the room and the conversation to greet the man.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Steve had greeted, hugging back the overexcited young woman before pulling away to look at her more properly. Before Wanda could utter a response, Natasha speaks for her, “She’s sick.” she says firmly, arms crossed against her chest.

Steve looks down at the young witch, concern laced in his features. “I’m fine.” Wanda counters bitingly, her voice firm and strong as she looks behind at her wife, eyes unyielding before they get interrupted by a familiar voice, “Hey guys!” They all turn their attentions to the man strutting towards them, taco in hand.

“I’m Scott Lang. Remember me? The giAnt man in Germany?” Scott says with a wave. “I remember you, you’re awesome!” he exclaims, pointing at Wanda excitedly, “And you, you are Natasha Romanoff. Believe it or not, I’m a huge fan.” he says as he eagerly takes a bite at his tacos and exclaims, “This is so exciting!” once more.

“It’s Natasha Maximoff-Romanoff.” Natasha says indignantly, arms still crossed over her chest as she moves to stand beside her wife, “But thanks.” she adds with a lopsided smile at the man whose mouth is agape, lettuce from his tacos flying off from the wind.

Before he could say anything else (though the couple has a feeling it would be something along the lines of, ‘Oh my God you two are married?! Since when?!’), Steve interrupts, “Okay, as much as I would love to keep Scott up to speed here, we’re kind of in a hurry. Bruce and Tony have figured out the time-space gps and we’re going to collect the stones from different timelines.” he says informatively.

“Right, we only have a very limited amount of Pym particles to use, and we’ve already used 2 of them up for some test runs.” Scott clears his throat, averting his eyes to not seem guilty for wasting one Pym particle on a faulty run.

“Who’s joining?” Natasha inquires.

“Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, Thor, Rocket, Nebula, Clint, Scott, me, you and Wanda” Steve answers and as if on cue, Wanda makes a gagging motion and runs towards the nearest and ugliest bush to throw up in and her wife rushes after her to hold her hair once more and give her a comforting pat in the back.

“Wanda…” Natasha starts, concern laced in her tone but before she could say anything else she gets cut off by the woman, “I’m fine.” Wanda says with a strained smile before continuing, “Could you get me a glass of water and Tylenol, please?” she asks her wife and Natasha nods, springing into action immediately.

Steve is by her side as soon as the redhead literally sprints to the cabin. Wanda gets up from her crouched position and looks up at the older man, a serious look on her face, “I’ve been having this morning sickness since yesterday.” she tells the older man next to her, already knowing his question before he can verbalize it.

“Do you think it could be that you’re…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, knowing that the younger woman already knows his implication. Wanda shrugs noncommittal, albeit there’s excitement and hopefulness visible in her features, “I don’t know. I haven’t really checked.” she says, receiving a nod from the Captain.

“Does Natasha know?” he asks. “No. Not yet anyway. We’ve tried so many times and failed every single time. I don’t want to get her hopes up just to bring it down.” the young witch answers truthfully and Steve says nothing but places a hand on her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

“Not to butt into your very private conversation but” Scott interrupts the two who looks at him quizzically before he continues, “if there’s a chance that you’re preggo, then you definitely can’t come to the mission. It’s too dangerous and there’s too much we still don’t know about the quantum realm.” he finishes like he’s sharing trivia.

“Scott is right” Steve concurs directing his attention to the young witch again, “they said that the symptoms for stem cell impregnation are much more severe than a normal pregnancy, it’s too risky.” he gets it out before Natasha arrives finally, a glass of water and a Tylenol pill on one hand and a hand towel on the other to wipe at her wife’s sweat-drenched face (that’s pretty much dried up now thanks to Wanda-magic).

“Sorry it took so long, for some reason I couldn’t find our pain killers anywhere,” she says as she hands the water and pill to the witch who gladly takes it.

Scott gives her a look like she’s insane, “You were gone for barely 2 minutes, that’s not long” he looks around for validation but only gets ignored by the group as Natasha continues.

“I just remembered I kept some of them in my jacket pocket.” she finishes, observing the younger woman drink the contents of the glass.

“Thank you” Wanda says, cupping one side of her wife’s cheek and placing a soft kiss on the other. Natasha observes her wife take the medication, relieved to see her gain a little bit of colour back on her pale skin. “We should leave now.” Wanda says to the group, ignoring the concerned look on her wife’s face.

The young witch starts to move towards the jet as the two men, look at each other and follow her hesitantly, unsure of the right course of action. Before the brunette could take a step on the jet’s stairs, her wife catches her by the elbow and pulls her aside. “Wands, wait.” the redhead says, preventing her from moving any further.

“Nat, I’m fine.” the brunette counters stubbornly before her wife could say anything else, “Do you trust me?” she continues with a question, looking straight into the redhead’s eyes earnestly and the redhead opens her mouth then closes it, pursing her lips as she replies, 

“Of course, I do. I just-” she says, sighing frustratedly, “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I can stay if you want, we can both stay. I’m sure Steve and the rest could handle everything without us.” she says, trying to persuade the brunette who only shakes her head and reaches up to cup her cheeks.

“And then what? I watch you be restless and lose sleep knowing you could be out there, and you could save the world, you could bring your family back?” Wanda clenches her jaw just a little as she says it. “I couldn’t do that to you, no matter how much I want to,” she adds, resting her forehead against her wife’s.

And truth be told, she would love to just stay with Natasha, to linger in this blissful life they’ve got, out of danger. But she knows that’s not what she is, and that’s not what they are. They’ve run away from who they really are for long enough and it was time they come back. Be the avengers they have always been and always will be.

“I know,” Natasha whispers her breath hitting the base of her nose, a reminder that she’s there and alive next to her. It gives her the strength to say her next words, “I have lost so much” she starts, her lips trembling.

“I had lost my will to live but you picked it up and gave it back to me and gave me everything. You came and showed me how beautiful life can be.” she continues as her tears start trickling uncontrollably down her throat and it chokes her like they're chains on her neck barring her from inhaling air.

“I know it’s different for everyone else, I know people are suffering now but I don’t care how this might sound. To me, these last five years have been the most beautiful in my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else, not even to get everyone I’ve lost back. Because I'd rather have you than not.” she feels the redhead’s tears trickle against her palms, and she can feel her own flood anew.

The redhead pulls her in for a tight embrace, nodding her head, relenting to the witch’s wishes. The hug doesn’t last long as Natasha pulls away to tuck a stray strand of brunette hair from her wife’s face, she pulls her left hand where the ring she gave her is worn. She taps on it with two fingers and they both watch as it lights up in a hue of scarlet dust, dancing arbitrarily on the surface of the ring, pulsating as if mimicking the beat of Natasha’s heart.

They stare at it for a little while, taking comfort in the fact that Natasha’s heart is Wanda’s to keep, and it will forever beat for her. “I love you,” she says and when she doesn’t get a reply, she understands as it sounds a lot like goodbye, so she kisses Wanda’s forehead instead and they move without another word.

When they arrive at the compound, Wanda is as pale as a ghost, her head dripping in cold sweat as her wife holds her hands, concern etched in her features. She tries to fight off the exhaustion, the fatigue she feels but as soon as they land, she’s lost all her energy and she can barely walk.

She gets caught immediately by the strong arms of the woman she loves, she can hear her faint whisperings about how she knew this was a mistake, how they should’ve just stayed in bed and Wanda thinks she’s right, they should have just stayed in bed. Because the next thing she knows she wakes up in an unfamiliar bed and when she sees Pepper, Tony’s wife, giving her a sympathetic smile, a ghost of a tear visible in her eyes and just like that, she knows she’s lost once more.

–

“Wanda” she whispers like an exhale, something her essence without a body could not do but her mind longs to. She feels like she’s been holding her breath for too long.

“Perhaps the cause of your grief is neither love nor regret, perhaps it is the absence of the person you have left behind.”

“I didn’t want to-” she starts, unable to finish her sentence as she struggles to find the right words to say, even to a stranger, “But I couldn’t let Clint lose his life to save mine. I couldn’t let him leave his family behind. I owed him my life, I’m just paying that debt,” she says, not convincing even herself.

“At the cost of breaking Wanda Maximoff-Romanoff, yet again.” the statement feels like a punch in the gut, she has no body, yet she feels the sting at the bite of every word uttered.

“Her abilities exceed that of what can be humanly perceived. Her anguish has reached the protected edges of Vormir, unrelenting and vicious in its desire to restore what cannot be. It consumes and pervades in its path of destruction. Her agony is felt throughout Vormir, invading the thoughts of its prisoners and the guardian.” the voice raises as its pitch lowers an octave.

“ We can all feel her pain.” it continues ominously, voice getting louder as if it's gotten face to face with her, “Except you .” it finishes grimly, tone accusatory.

Natasha stays silent when all she wants to do is scream, cry, punch, kill and hurt. She wants to feel. She would rather feel Wanda’s pain, own it, absorb it, lock it in her own heart, and make her forget than know that she has caused this much grief to the person she loves the most.

Wanda has known nothing but loss in her life, Natasha knows that. She has experienced nothing but heartache and betrayal from the world and it almost killed her and here she is adding to that pain, here she is witnessing the effects of the suffering she’s caused, here she is knowing her love is in torment and everybody feels it but her.

“I wish for Wanda to forget.” she begins after a while. If the voice had a physical manifestation, she might think it would’ve recoiled in surprise with the momentary silence in the atmosphere. 

“I wish for her to forget about the love we shared. I wish for her to move forward, to find someone, to fall in love, to be happy. I wish for her to experience a love that can promise her forever, can promise her a love she deserves.” she continues, every word feeling like a stab in the chest.

“Very well, Natalia Alianova Romanov-”

“My name is Natasha Maximoff-Romanoff.” she cuts off the voice, correcting it with a firm one of her own.

“Mea Culpa, Natasha Maximoff-Romanoff, I can wipe Wanda Maximoff-Romanof’s memories of the five years you have spent together but understand, I can make the mind and soul forget but I cannot make the love disappear.” the voice cautions as the once dark surroundings are now engulfed in spots of gold scattered throughout can be felt in her energy-ridden soul.

“That is one less painful love to remember,” she says as her energy is absorbed by everything around her until everything becomes nothing once more.

–

And so, Wanda does.

She forgets but her heart feels the remnants of the pain. Her mind wouldn’t understand but her heart screams a strange name, it breaks bizarrely for a certain spy’s demise, it will thunder and roar mercilessly with the lack of a redhead’s presence next to her and none of it makes sense to her as she walks along the edges of the lake.

She finds Clint Barton sitting on the ground, his back to a paddle boat left by the lake, his features sullen with the traumatic events that had transpired.

Clint was one of the few she had grown to trust and care for. He had been the man her brother had laid his life for, the man who had instated her into the avengers, and the man who had taken care of her like she was a part of his family after she had been knocked out for days from being hit by Thanos’ blitz.

She had lost her memory of the past five years then, only remembering bits and pieces of it. Given how she has lost everyone she has ever loved, her parents, Pietro, and Vision, she doesn’t know if she even wants to remember how she had survived the past five years.

She stands beside him, looking over the lake like he is, her hands shoved inside the pockets of her black blazer. She doesn’t say anything, she just stands there, keeping him company. Somehow, his presence is calming, like he’s the only person who could understand the pain she is feeling, a peculiar pain for someone or something that she cannot seem to remember.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” he asks after a while, looking up at her and squinting a little from the brightness of the sun above them. She holds up her hands towards him and he accepts it as he hops to stand upright, dusting himself slightly. “You have to stop calling me kiddo, I’m literally an adult,” she says jokingly.

Clint chuckles a little, “Right, Natasha would probably kick my ass if I kept calling you that anyway, sorry.” he says before he can stop himself, frowning a little as realization creeps itself up to him and he looks at Wanda, her face addled and distraught as if she’s trying to rack up why she’s feeling the way she is in her brain.

“Do you still not remember anything from the past five years? About Natasha?” he asks cautiously, looking towards the young woman sympathetically as she shakes her head, 

“No. I keep trying to remember but I just can’t. I know you said she helped me a lot over the years, she was there for me when no one else was but no matter how hard I try I just can’t seem to remember. I only remember the pain.” she replies, her brows furrowed as she tries and fails to remember.

He nods and looks back to the lake, deep in thought and Wanda feels like there’s something he wants to say, something he wants to reveal but he only sighs, looking up and out of the corner of her eyes, she can see him smile slightly, 

“You know, I wish there was a way” he starts to speak, and she turns her attention to him, “that I could let her know…” he pauses again, breathing in deeply like he’s bracing himself for an impact that will surely cause immense pain. “That we won. We did it.” he says, turning to the brunette with a sad smile etched into his features.

He looks much older than she last remembers him, Wanda thinks as tears start pricking at her eyes. She thinks about her parents, how she lost them at such a young age, she thinks about Pietro, how she lost him when he was the only person left that had made her feel safe and at home, and she thinks about Vision, how she lost the only man she’s ever loved so unequivocally real and genuine.

But none of those hurt more than when she thinks of Natasha and the life she has lost. She doesn’t understand it, she’s shaken by it, she’s filled with this feeling that she doesn’t quite understand and it’s driving her mad. She wants to clutch at her heart, but she feels something solid and tight around her finger as she clenches her palms.

She looks down at a single ring covering a small area of her left ring finger. It looks foreign and special. She doesn’t remember when or how she got it, but she also feels like it’s been with her forever. She looks back up at the man beside her, swallowing the pain she’s feeling inside.

“She knows,” she says with certainty. “She has to.” she finishes as a single tear streak down her cheek and Clint reaches for her shoulder and pulls her into a comforting embrace. She closes her eyes, twisting the ring around her finger as blurry images of happiness and love flood her.

–

It’s two years after bringing everybody back and fighting Thanos that Wanda gets an unlikely visit from someone she’s never met before but someone that feels too familiar to her to be a stranger.

“Hi.” a woman with blonde hair and a long yellow flannel jacket greets, her Russian accent thick against her tongue. “This is Fanny,” the blonde says, pointing at a dog with thick gold and white fur sitting with its tongue out and its tail wagging.

Before the blonde woman could continue, Wanda interrupts subconsciously, “You’re Yelena…” she trails off as if a lightbulb has switched on for her. “...yeah. I guess you would know that.” Yelena replies more amused than surprised much to Wanda’s confusion.

“Honestly, and no offence to you, I don’t know how I could even know that” Wanda says, confusion clear in her features. She hears the blonde woman heave a sigh, a dark expression on her face as she looks down for a split second before turning her attention back to the now, auburn-haired woman. 

“It’s fine, I guess... What else do you know about me?” she asks curiously but her tone is more hesitant and shyer now.

“You’re Natasha’s sister and you have a really nice army surplus vest that she really likes,” Wanda says automatically as if pieces of the puzzle are at the tip of her tongue, she’s just not sure how to piece it all together. 

“It has a lot of pockets,” Yelena says with a genuine smile, looking up at the witch before saying, “It’s good to finally meet you, Wanda. Barton has told me so much about how Natasha had adored you. ” Yelena says and she doesn’t miss the way the witch’s face turns bright red at the admission that the black widow had thought about her that way. 

Truth be told, Yelena’s intention of coming here was to tell Wanda everything, to make her remember everything about Natasha, about the five years they spent loving each other, about how much Natasha had loved her. She wanted to spill everything that Barton had refused to do, thinking it was what Natasha would have wanted.

But instead, when she sees a tall broad looking man with dark hair approach the auburn-haired woman, carrying two children in his arms as he shouts her sister’s wife’s name with a beaming smile on his face and she sees the witch light up at the sight, she stops herself mid-stride.

“Hey,” he says as he puts the children down to hug the woman before her tightly and she hugs him back with the same affection. 

“Simon,” she says with a smile and then turning to the children chasing each other around by her legs as she scoops them up easily in her arms. 

“Billy, Tommy!” she exclaims excitedly, kissing their puffed-up cheeks amidst their giggles and Yelena flinches at the sight of a happy looking family.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy,” she starts, already making up an excuse to leave as she drawls out Fanny’s name when Wanda puts her children down and they come running up the dog who immediately wags her tail in excitement. Yelena stares at Fanny pointedly, feeling a tad bit betrayed.

“Oh, no worries. Simon was just leaving.” she says, looking up at the man briefly who looked a little disappointed but extends his hands to the blonde courteously anyway.

“Hi, I’m Simon Williams.” he says in introduction. Yelena accepts the hand hesitantly and dismissively, opting to just nod in acknowledgement and not to introduce herself.

“Are these little rascals yours?” she asks after a brief moment, looking down and around the twins who are completely vandalizing her dog, she grimaces at the sight.

She doesn’t take her eyes off the boys as Wanda and Simon simultaneously denies her claim, observing the way the boys looked. 

“Oh, no!” Wanda exclaims like she’s burned, “They’re mine but they’re not his.” she says pointing to the man next to her and Simon looks at her as if offended, looking like a kicked puppy in the process and making the blonde woman smirk a little on her own.

Yelena hums as she kneels to put Fanny’s collar back in place and one of the boys, perhaps this was Billy, stares at her ominously and the other, Tommy, follows suit. She hears the man, Simon, hastily bidding his goodbye in that annoying New Jersey accent. Too American, Yelena thinks.

She observes the boys who are now giggling at each other like they’re telling each other a funny secret about her, she observes the way Billy looks so much like her mother, Wanda, and Tommy looks more like- her thoughts get cut off by the auburn-haired woman as she starts to speak, picking up her children again and carrying them.

“Sorry about them. They can be a little naughty sometimes.” she says, as she puts them back down, now both hiding behind their mother’s legs. “It’s okay” Yelena replies, “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you… uh… get these… little creatures?” she asks, unsure of how to really phrase her question without sounding a little too suspicious.

She sighs in relief when she hears the other woman chuckle slightly, unphased by how she’d worded the question, “Well, I don’t know to be honest. All I know was that I was just suddenly pregnant two years ago and now I have twins. It’s bizarre, I know, but I honestly wouldn’t trade them for the world.” she says as she looks at her children fondly and like an epiphany, Yelena realizes now.

Barton had told her about it, but she refused to believe it and now that she’s seeing them, face to face, realizing just how much each of them had looked like their mothers, she knows it’s the truth. Natasha has twins. She had built a perfect family she could’ve come home to, and she didn’t know about it. She tries to hold back her tears as the realization hits her like a moving truck hitting her from behind. She takes a step back, to try and process everything.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks, concerned and Yelena suddenly remembers what she was there for. She quickly reaches for her pocket, pulling out the locket that Clint had kept and entrusted to her.

“She’ll want you to have this.” she says as she hands the locket to the auburn-haired woman who takes it tentatively with shaking hands, her eyes already watering impulsively. “Sorry, I kinda broke it while I was trying to kill Barton.” she says, her accent thick and laced with nonchalance at the admission.

She observes as Wanda traces her fingers at the base of the material, a single tear finding its way out of her eyes and flowing down her cheeks past her jaw, she couldn’t explain it if she wanted to, and Wanda was growing tired of these unexplained emotions. These perplexing dreams she’s been having, dreams of red hair, moonlight, heartbeat and dancing under a beautiful night sky with no music.

“Thank you” is all she can say and the blonde bids her goodbye with a tight-lipped smile, calling out for her dog and they disappear out of view but Wanda is only focused on the locket in front of her. She opens it and nothing comes up but somehow it elicits a huge flood of emotions in her.

Her children reach for the material like they own it, like somehow, some way it’s tethered to them, and she allows them to have it, she smiles at the sheer joy the twins have at opening and closing it and she sees a faint memory in her mind, invading her once more like it has been in her dreams recently.

In her dreams, she mourns, she grieves, and she loves. She sees red hair, emerald eyes, pale skin and red lips. She sees a small cabin, tall grass, a wide smile and a sweaty figure coming up to wrap her in a tight embrace and she’s never felt warmer in her life.

The memories are forgotten under the pale moonlight but not lost in the bright sunshine.

Perhaps this is Natasha Maximoff-Romanoff’s villainous curse and perhaps this is Natasha’s love.