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Chapter Text

Wanda strained under the pressure of keeping the building in the air with her red telekinetic abilities. It threatened to fall on her allies, who were racing to get to the quinjet hangar. One of her enemies had knocked the building over in an attempt to stop Captain America and the Winter Soldier from reaching the quinjet. She was vaguely aware of the grey Iron Man-esque machine speeding towards her, and the blast of sonic sound which threatened to burst her eardrums. No, she had to hold on, keep the building in the air and get Cap and Bucky to the jet—but she couldn’t hold on much longer...
Wanda screamed, her hands flying to her ears as the wave of sound pierced her head, the reverberations whizzing through her mind and filling her thoughts.
She fell, unconscious, to the floor, her red leather trench coat spooling around her.

***

“Yeah! That was awesome!” Peter yelled as Giant-Man lost his balance from the force of the blow struck by Tony Stark and War Machine, toppling him. One of Giant-Man’s huge hands swung towards Peter but he ducked in mid-air, the sticky web he was clutching threatening to leave his grasp. He flipped, letting the web go and landing smoothly on the floor.
As Peter looked around for Tony, his body tingled. He looked around, startled, as a high-pitched squeal of sound came from his left. War Machine was blasting a wave of sonic sound at a young woman in red leather who had been using telekinesis earlier in the current fight. She collapsed, overcome by the blast, as War Machine flew off to join Iron Man in pursuit of the quinjet which was now blasting away from the hangar.
Peter rushed over to the young woman’s side, shaking her gently as he pulled off his mask.
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked furtively as she stirred.
“Who are you?” She mumbled in a heavy accent, her eyes turning to lock with Peter’s. “What happened?”
“You were caught in a wave of super sonic sound,” he said. He wasn’t sure that it was super sonic, but he didn’t care. “Are you okay?” He repeated, running a hand through his short brown curls. “You seem pretty weak.”
“I’m fine.” The young woman said hesitantly, but she didn’t look like she meant it. “Who are you?” She asked again.
“Oh, I-I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He stuttered as the words tried to leapfrog each other in their haste to leave his mouth.
She replied, “I’m Wanda Maximoff. Thanks for coming over.” She sat up, her face inches from his. Then she shook her head, her hair cascading down her shoulder and walked off, leaving Peter stunned.

***

Later that night, Wanda found herself on the roof of her apartment building, the moon shining in the distance. The wind was biting, its merciless waves piercing her hoodie. She sighed, pulling at the soft fabric around her.
The thoughts of earlier in the day replayed in her mind, and everything seemed… distant. Almost as if the sound blast had knocked her memories out of her. Only one memory was clear.
Peter Parker.
Wanda sat with her knees drawn to her chest, the wind tugging at the loose strands of her hair. The city stretched beneath her, alive with flickers of light and the distant hum of traffic. Her mind, though, was quiet — eerily quiet. After everything that had happened today, her thoughts should’ve been racing. But no. It was just… him.
Peter Parker.
She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the hem of her hoodie sleeves, her powers humming faintly beneath her skin. The echo of the sonic blast still buzzed faintly in her skull, but the sensation was less painful now — more like an itch at the edge of her thoughts.
But it wasn’t the blast that haunted her. It was his voice. His face. The way his warm brown eyes had widened when she stirred, the softness in the way he said his own name. He had looked at her like she was important. Like she was someone worth something.
Her jaw tightened, and she swiped at her cheek when the cold wind swiped too hard, leaving her eyes stinging. Why did that matter? She was a trained Avenger — she’d fought for her life, for the lives of her friends, and she had saved the world. Peter Parker was just some kid.
A very sweet, incredibly cute, surprisingly brave kid.
She’d watched him in the battle at the airport, how he could shoot webs from his hands and swing in the air like the trapezists did in circuses back home…
Back home.
Wanda shook her head. No. No distractions.
There was too much at stake right now. Too much to lose. She couldn’t afford to get close to someone else. Everyone she’d ever cared about — her parents, her brother — they were all gone. Torn away from her by fate, violence, or war. Letting herself care again? That was just asking for pain.
And yet…
She could still feel the warmth of Peter’s hand brushing against her wrist as he knelt beside her, his worried eyes scanning her face. She’d felt weak and broken, but he had made her feel… steady. Even if it was just for a moment. A short, sweet, fleeting moment.
Wanda’s thoughts shifted to Vision, her friend, her—
She didn’t feel the same way about him after meeting Peter.
Wanda tried to remember how she felt after the encounter with Spider-Man, and if she had to put it into words, she might just call it love at first sight.

Chapter Text

Wanda woke ridiculously early the next morning, still in her hoodie, to the noise of sirens outside her apartment and the horrid smell of smoke lingering in the air. She shook the sleep from her eyes, threw off her blanket and, her heart in her throat, raced to her window. If her suspicions were true then there should be a—
“Fire!” Someone screamed. Wanda gasped. The building across the street had flames licking their way out of nearly all of the windows, lighting up the night sky, smoke pouring into the air and charred wood crumbling into ash.
Wanda barely had time to think.
She launched herself from her window, her powers kicking in and stopping her from hitting the ground as she sped towards the burnt mess opposite. There were cries of alarm as people noticed her approaching the building. Wanda turned her attention to the firefighters nearer the left of the structure and raised her hands, sucking the water from the nearby fire trucks with her magic and flinging it over the flames, battering them down and subduing their aggression.
The firefighters cheered as the fire sputtered and flickered before dying completely. She carefully extracted the people from inside the building and dropped them to the pavement. The charred remains of the once-beautiful apartment complex groaned and creaked, threatening to crumble into the throng of stunned people that had survived. Wanda used her powers to send the rubble over the nearby fence and into Westview Park. She dropped the mess over a patch of empty grass, let out a deep breath and sank gently to the ground.
She was aware of someone starting to clap, and before she knew it, a starstruck crowd, including the firefighters, was forming around her and what she’d just done dawned on her fully.
She’d just saved the lives of more than fifty people.

***

It was all over the news. How the young Sokovian woman – who blew up a building in Lagos, Nigeria – saved fifty people from a house fire in Westview. Peter was watching the television with an almost awed daze. The girl on the screen was…
Wanda.
He’d met her only briefly the day before, and he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head.
Peter’s fingers tightened around the remote but he didn't change the channel. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, absorbing every grainy news clip, every flashing headline. The footage showed a house, its walls charred black, smoke still curling into the night sky. Firefighters bustled around in the background, but the camera was focused in on one thing — Wanda. Clad in a black hoodie, her familiar red magic flowing around her hands, stretching towards the building and the water from the fire trucks.
Peter had to remind himself to close his mouth again. His thoughts were interrupted by his Aunt May coming into his bedroom, asking about crumpets and tea. Peter hastily turned the TV off, which had flicked onto a news story about a mysterious energy surge detected near the Hudson River.
Peter barely registered the headline before the screen went black, his heart still racing from the sight of Wanda on the news.
“Tea and crumpets, May? Really?” he asked, turning to see his aunt leaning against the doorframe with a teasing smile.
“What?” she said innocently. “I was trying to class up the joint. But, uh—” Her eyes flicked to the now-dark TV. “You looked very invested in whatever that was. Anything I should know?”
Peter shook his head a little too quickly. "Nope! Just… friends and stuff. You know how it is."
May arched a brow. "Uh-huh. Friends and stuff. Right."
Peter forced a smile, but his mind was still buzzing. Peter lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as May’s footsteps faded down the hall. He could still see the news footage behind his eyes—Wanda, standing amidst the embers, magic curling around her hands like living fire.
He’d met her once. A brief encounter, barely enough time to exchange names. And yet, she was everywhere now—on the news, in his thoughts, in the nagging feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away. His phone buzzed.

Ned: Dude. Did you see the news?
Ned: That girl you met? She’s kinda a big deal.

Peter’s heart fluttered, his breath quickening as he suppressed a smile. Ned was the only person who knew his identity as Spider-Man and also happened to be his best friend.
He hastily typed a reply:

Peter: I know…
Peter: What should I do?
Ned: Bro, just chill and wait for her news fame to pass. I mean, you have a flipping goddess as a girlfriend like what more do you want
Peter: She’s not my girlfriend
Ned: Then ask her out bro
Peter: I barely know her I can’t just ask her out I’ve literally met her once in the middle of a fight
Ned: Well then get to know her                                                                                                                                   

Ned: I’ve already done some digging and I know her phone number and her address

A pause. Peter mulled it over, running a hand through his hair and sighing. He leant back, Wanda running through his mind as he grabbed his phone again and typed a reply.

Peter: Well are you gonna send the number or not
Ned: Omg I thought you’d say no lol yeah I’ll send it over now

As the phone number and address appeared on his screen, Peter felt a thrum of excitement and nerves. He exhaled lightly, brushed down his shirt, tapped on the number and pressed "call".

Chapter Text

Wanda was sitting on her squishy sofa, binge-watching Netflix around ten o’clock in the morning when it happened. Her phone rang, the noise sudden and sharp as it bounced around the room. Who on earth was calling her? No one called her anymore. Not since the Lagos incident. No one wanted to talk to her. No one cared.

She carefully tiptoed towards her phone, which sat on her desk, abandoned for months. She had no contacts and anyone who bothered to talk to her were only members of S.H.I.E.L.D., and they spoke with her face-to-face.

Her phone was still ringing. As she neared the device, her heart leapt into her throat. It said Peter Parker was calling her. Why would Peter Parker be calling her? It’s not as though she thought about him all the time…

Before she could stop herself, she leant forward, and in one swift motion, picked the phone up and pressed accept before curtly placing it by her ear.

For one heartachingly long moment, there was silence. Then, Peter’s voice came echoing from the device, his tone clearly nervous and excited. That made for two.

“H-hello?” Peter whispered, barely audible. “Wanda?” In a second of doubt, Wanda thought about hanging up and forgetting all about it, but her heart twinged and her mouth involuntarily formed the words that flowed into the phone. “Hey Peter!” Her voice was croaky, as though she’d just woken up from a nap. She cleared her throat. “Hi.” She added, for clarification.

And just like that, her day slipped away, as her hours were spent on the phone to Peter Parker.

***

“And I was like, yeah, I know a goddess!” Peter laughed, and his breath hitched as he realised Wanda was laughing with him. It was two in the morning and she was still on call with him. He’d spent the entire day and night talking with Wanda and most of the time she’d spent laughing. “‘Cause you are a goddess,” he whispered — and he meant it.

There was a pause, as if Wanda was weighing up what to say next. He heard her stifle a yawn, and an overwhelming sense of tiredness swept through him as well. “Can we talk again tomorrow?” Wanda asked, her voice slick with sleep.

“Yeah, sure,” Peter said casually, secretly glowing inside at the fact that Wanda wanted to spend more time with him. “I’m free whenever.” Ah. A slight lie. He kept his fingers crossed that Wanda wouldn’t call between ten and twelve in the morning — Aunt May said he “had to study for school for at least two hours every weekend”, and he’d already promised Aunt May he’d be in the library for Saturday at ten.

“Cool, I’ll probably text you after I have breakfast, so at, like, seven,” Wanda sounded half-asleep, and Peter felt his heart soar as he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He blanched; his phone read:

Phone call: Wanda Maximoff: 16 hours and 18 minutes

He drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with the thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.

***

Peter woke the following morning at around six with a renewed sense of energy. He got changed, brushed his teeth, downed a bowl of cereal and scribbled a hasty note for Aunt May:

Gone to gym with friends, I’ll be back before ten – studying with Ned in the library, I know – call me if you need me.

Only half of that was a lie. He was going to be back before ten, but he wasn’t going to the gym with friends. He dragged his bike from the shed and kicked off. He opened Google Maps on his phone. It said: Take the next left turn then go straight on for one hundred yards and take the following right. Simple.

He stopped off at the local corner shop to get some things before continuing his journey, his heart racing in time to the pumping of the pedals. He finally slowed down near an apartment block named Strucker Building. He let out a sharp breath as he noticed the burnt wreck of the building opposite. Yeah. He was in the right place. He needed to thank Ned later for the directions.

He picked up the bunch of flowers he’d bought on the way there, locked his bicycle to a rack and quickly scaled the staircase. He knew that it was at the very top, she’d told him that on the call. He brushed down his shirt and took a deep breath. You got this, Parker, he could imagine Ned saying at this moment.

Peter carefully arranged the flowers in the bouquet, with the red roses at the front. She’d said her favourite flowers were red roses and tulips.

Without even a moment of hesitation, Peter reached up and rang the doorbell.

Silence.

He could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Was she going to answer the door? What if she didn’t want to see him? What if—

“Hello?” Wanda’s voice stretched through the door, and she sounded anxious. Peter’s heart lurched.

“H-hi, it’s Peter,” he said, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

“Peter?!” She gasped. The door rattled, obviously being unlocked, then it flew open, revealing Wanda, dressed in a black hoodie and joggers. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d stop by,” Peter said, thrusting the flowers into Wanda’s arms. He hoped she wouldn’t ask how he knew where she lived. “These are… for you.”

***

Wanda looked at the bouquet for a moment, before she felt a grin spread across her face. “Red roses,” she whispered. She looked up at him. “You remembered.”

His face was so earnest and excited, and she couldn’t help but smile with him. “Are you okay? You, uh, sounded nervous a second ago.” Her heart fluttered. How did he know?

“Yeah, sorry about that, it’s just I don’t get many visitors.” She paused, stifling a chuckle. “But when I do they’re normally angry protestors… with bricks.”

Peter’s hand flew to his mouth. “I-I’m so sorry,” he gasped, worry shaping his features.

“Yeah,” Wanda sighed. “It’s because of what happened in Lagos. I… killed people.” She felt a tear slip down her face, and before she could register what he was doing, Peter lent forward and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb.

He seemed to come to his senses and hurriedly stuffed his hand into his pocket. “S-sorry,” he whispered.

She smiled weakly, before suddenly remembering something and asking, “How do you know where I live? And how do you know my phone number?” She was frowning now, her brow creased. Her questions seemed to take Peter by surprise as his face turned to one of guilt.

“I have a, uh, friend,” he started. Wanda raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “He… he knows… things…? And stuff?” Peter bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I should have come to you in person.” He looked at his shoes, and Wanda couldn’t help but giggle at his downcast expression.

His head darted up. “What? What did I…” He broke off, a guilty chuckle replacing the apology he was going to express as he found Wanda laughing with him.

“Just — come inside,” Wanda said, the remnants of laughter still bouncing around in her voice. “We can talk more.”

“Okay,” Peter sounded like a naughty child being caught doing something they shouldn’t. “I really am sorry—”

“Just come in,” she repeated, tugging at his arm and shutting the door behind him as Wanda hurriedly bustled him into her apartment.

Peter only had moments to take in the apartment’s contents — including a big, comfy-looking, cotton sofa; a television sitting atop a rosewood desk in the corner; a small table with a single chair; a fridge-freezer, oven and sink along one wall; a small window with black curtains currently drawn back; and a slightly ajar door opposite the entrance, obviously leading to a bedroom — before Wanda took his hand and led him to the sofa.

“Okay, so, how did your friend…” Wanda trailed off as they sat down on the sofa.

“Ned’s a computer geek, somehow more than me — he used to work the computer slides back in fifth grade.”

Wanda placed the flowers carefully in a vase that was already waiting on a small mahogany wood coffee table.“I didn’t peg you as the computer type.”

“That was meant as a compliment right?” Peter asked, wringing his hands together.

“Sure,” Wanda chuckled. “You were saying?”

“Ned said he found an old Instagram page of yours—” Wanda groaned— “and it had all your details.” Peter shrugged. “I am sorry—”

“Forget it,” Wanda whispered gently, placing a hand on his knee. “I’d completely forgotten about that Instagram page anyway, and…” Wanda took a deep breath. “And I’m really glad that Ned did look me up, because now I’ve met you, and you’re… cool…?” Wanda added awkwardly.

“Well, I’m glad you think I’m cool,” Peter laughed, and Wanda felt her heart swell alongside his smile.

Chapter Text

Ned sighed, checking his watch for the umpteenth time. It was pretty clear Peter wasn’t coming. It was half past ten, and there was still no sign of him.

Ned started to pack up his things, but before he could squeeze his history book into his bag and stuff his pencil case on top, he heard a telltale slide of an automatic door and heavy breathing from the direction of the library entrance.

He didn’t have to look up — he and Peter had been best friends for years, so of course he recognised his breathing.

“Dude, why are you so late?! I’ve been here for like, half an hour and you didn’t even text. I’m not even gonna give you the benefit of the doubt because you don’t deserve it.

“That’s kinda harsh. I’m late all the time!” Peter said with a laugh, which was quickly silenced with Ned’s sour look.

As Ned looked up, he realised with a start that someone was standing next to Peter with an amused smile on her face. His heart basically missed a beat.

Wanda Maximoff.

Peter actually asked a girl out for once in his life. 

“Oh, h-hi, I’m Ned, and I think you’re Wanda, right…?” Ned sighed. “Big fan.”

“My reputation precedes me.” She said, maintaining a grin. “So, I hear you ‘know things’?” Wanda raised an eyebrow.
Ned glanced at Peter, who shrugged, and he turned to Wanda. “Well, I, uh, have a, um, laptop at home and I, uh, wanted to find out your number so Peter could message you and you could get together and stuff…” Ned stumbled over his words.

Wanda seemed startled. “Get together?” Peter had his head in his hands but the beetroot red that his face had turned was still visible. “Peter, why didn’t you tell me you wanted to “get together”? You should’ve at least let me know…” Wanda sighed. 

Peter’s head jerked up. “W-why? Would you have said yes?” He seemed to suddenly realise what he said and his face was lost to his hands again.

Wanda tried not to show her smile, but it was more difficult than expected. “Maybe. I don’t know, if you’d asked, I’d have had the chance, wouldn’t I?”

“Ok. Ok. I’m sorry. Can we start over?” Peter’s smile was guilty.

“Alright. Hello, I’m Wanda Maximoff…”

“Hello.”

“This is the part where you introduce yourself.”

“Right,” Peter chuckled. Wanda looked up at him expectantly.

“I’m Peter, and, would you… uh… do you… like… have… I mean…”  Peter gathered his confidence.

Ned’s head was jerking back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. Were things like this always this complicated?

“Would you go on a date with me?” Peter said, his eyes squeezed shut as if it would make the situation less awkward. 

“I’d love to,” Wanda whispered, her mouth taut with the struggle of keeping a straight face. “When and where, Mister Parker?”

Peter sighed. “I hate how much you’re enjoying this.” He said under his breath. “Alright. Meet me at… the Gilded Lion? Six o’clock, tomorrow evening? That okay for you, Miss Wanda?”

“Sounds good,” Wanda replied. “Oh, and it’s Miss Maximoff to you.”

***

“So, Wannie—” Ned started, his voice full of cheer. It was quarter past eleven and Wanda had eagerly agreed to help Peter with his junior school studies, because she’d “taken the exams only a year before” and “would be happy to help”. The trio had settled themselves down on a table near the history section of the library.

“Don’t call me that, ever.” Wanda growled, fake anger seeping from her voice.

“Geez, you’re one to take a joke, Wanalola.” Ned tried again, and this time his sass was repaid by a steely glare and a book to the face. “Anyway, as I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, who’s your favourite Avenger?”

“Well – besides from me obviously, I’d probably have to say Spider-Man. Right? He’s cute, he’s funny, he’s really brave and cool, you know? What about you?” Wanda said, as Peter suddenly turned red.

“Yeah, I like Spider-Man too. Do you have any idea who he really is? Like, his identity?” Ned asked innocently.

“No, I don’t, actually.” Wanda smiled.

“Wouldn’t it be so cool if it turns out that we actually know him?” Ned continued.

They both unsubtly fixed their eyes on Peter, trying to keep the laughter from their faces.

“Yeah,” Peter replied sarcastically, scribbling down a few more notes about King James VI. “That would be awesome.”

Ned let out a chuckle, and before they knew it, Wanda and Peter were laughing along with him, and eventually a hook-nosed librarian approached them and told them to be quiet, before she promptly turned and ran when she spotted Wanda, obviously recognising her from the news and the incident in Lagos.

Wanda struggled to hold the tears back, and she was suddenly aware of Peter reaching over the table and holding her hand. Not too tight, not too clingy, but just to let her know he was there, and that he cared. 

No one had touched her like that in years, not since her parents were killed in Sokovia, and she was taken by H.Y.D.R.A., and experimented on. She’d never had a childhood, and Peter was the first person she’d ever properly cared about after the Avengers rescued her and her twin, Pietro, who was killed in the battle against Ultron.

Peter was gently circling his thumb around her palm, and Ned was trying his best to stay unnoticed, pretending to read the book about Elizabeth I while secretly enjoying the spectacle of Peter’s first teenage love.

Chapter Text

The next day seemed to pass by at the speed of light. Before he knew it, it was five-thirty, and Peter was hurriedly changing into a shirt, suit and matching tie. He wasn’t sure whether he’d overdressed for a first date —  or under dressed, for that matter. He’d never been on a date, but in all the films he watched, they either broke up tragically or kissed straight away and lived happily ever after. He didn’t know if this kind of thing happened in real life, but he supposed he was going to find out soon enough.

He didn’t hear Aunt May coming into his room until she announced her presence with a, “Ooh! Dressing up fancy, are we? Places to go, people to see, it’s busy being a teenager, isn’t it?” She stood teasingly in the doorway, and she earned herself a groan and a door slammed in her face. 

He hadn’t planned how he was going to break the news to May. She and Wanda just didn’t mix in his head — they were separate worlds, but he had to accept that, one day, they might become one and the same. 

Peter sighed, and inspected his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a plain, white, freshly ironed shirt and simple black tie, with a black leather jacket thrown over the top. He’d debated going without it, but he wouldn’t look like himself —  and besides, it was a cold night.

***

Wanda checked her outfit in the mirror, and smiled. Her glittery red dress — not too informal, not too revealing — with the inlaid gems, was the perfect fit, and her puffy black coat was just in case the weather took a turn for the worst. She had applied only a small dusting of make-up, including beautiful red eyeshadow and lipstick. Her hair was styled in curls, and the waves of strawberry-blonde locks cascaded gently down her shoulders. Her ears were studded with black gems and a beautiful gold necklace hugged her neck. 

Wanda forced a grin. She looked much more confident that she felt, which, she thought, was definitely a good thing.

She hoped that she hadn’t gone overboard with her outfit for a first date, but she felt like Peter would have dressed up too.

***

As Aunt May pulled up outside the Gilded Lion, she asked, “So, this science meeting, is everyone in your class there?”

“Yeah, it’s because we’ve been so good this year, and Mr Sims wanted to treat us to something special.” This wasn’t a complete lie — Mr Sims had been impressed with their progress this semester.

“At the most expensive restaurant in town?” May raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah, he’s minted.” Peter nodded awkwardly and slowly walked toward the entrance of the Gilded Lion.

“Have fun with Mr Sims and your science bros!” Aunt May called from the window as Peter opened the door and stepped inside, pretending not to hear her.

He strode confidently to the front desk and said to the staff member behind the counter, “Hi, I have a table booked for two at six o’clock,” He hoped the assistant couldn't hear the nerves in his voice.

“Name?” The  bored receptionist asked dully, as if he had to do this a million times a day. Which, Peter reasoned, he probably did.

“Uh, Parker.” Peter whispered, leaning over the counter and trying to see the notes.

“Peter Parker?” 

“Yup, that— that’s me.”

“Right- we got you in table thirty-eight, through the arch and take a right. A waiter will be with you shortly to take your order.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, taking a menu from the staff member’s outstretched hand. 

Peter looked at the piece of card, and some of the prices made his head ache, so he hastily tucked it under his arm and sat at the table designated to him.

He took off his jacket, and folded it carefully over the back of his chair. He took a deep breath and stole another glance at the menu. The cheapest thing he could find was the fish and chips on the kids menu, which were a whopping eighteen dollars and ninety-nine cents. He really hoped Wanda didn’t choose the most expensive thing on the list, because he’d offered to pay for them both. 

As he mulled over whether to get apple juice or water, he heard the door open and looked behind him.

Wanda walked in, positively stunning in a glorious red dress and heels with a black coat. Her hair — which was curled immaculately — framed her face, which was perfectly highlighted with a light touch of red make-up. She was as beautiful as ever. 

She carefully approached the receptionist — whose face paled as he recognised her, and Peter could see her face twist into one of anguish. The receptionist said something and pointed at Peter.

Wanda looked over, and Peter caught her gaze. He tried to smile, tried to cheer her up. She forced a weak grin, wobbling towards him in her high heels. 

“Hey, Peter,” Wanda whispered as she sat down opposite him. The people in the Gilded Lion had gone silent. Wanda appeared as though she was going to cry. Peter’s heart clenched at the sight of her, broken and barely holding herself together. 

***

Hushed murmurings began to shift around the restaurant. Whether they were about her or not Wanda didn’t know. 

“All okay?” Peter asked needlessly. 

“Yeah,” Wanda replied shakily. She hoped no one around her could hear the tremors in her voice. She glanced around. Everyone’s eyes were on her. She heard a rhythmic tapping of a pen on paper coming from behind her. A waitress. Finally. Something to distract her from the hundred hungry eyes.

“Do you know what you’d like to order?” The waitress asked, her voice clipped and tight. She was clearly not happy to be there.

“Yeah, I’ll have the burger and chips.” Peter said, his eyes not leaving Wanda’s.

“A-and you?” The waitress hesitated, as if dreading the moment when Wanda would talk to her.

A tear fell.

Wanda brushed it away, stealing a glance at the menu. “I-I’ll have the—”

BANG!

A sound of a gunshot ringing outside the Gilded Lion startled everyone. The waitress gasped.

"Peter..." Wanda whispered, her voice barely audible. "Did you hear that?"

Before Peter could respond, the front door of the Gilded Lion slammed open with a violent force; the sound of wind rushing in was deafening. Then, through the doorway, a shadowy figure menacingly stalked.  Huge, mechanical wings protruding from the figure’s back sliced through the air like a predatory bird. 

There was a flicker of electricity tingling at the figure’s fingertips and thugs entering behind it cocked loaded guns. Wanda couldn’t help but hearing Peter’s sharp intake of breath.

A scream pierced the air, unleashing the wave of uncontrollable chaos that ensued.

Chapter Text

Amid the panicked stampede as people fled from the winged villain, Wanda seized Peter’s hand. She yanked him into the kitchens. “Suit up.” 

The lights cut out and crackling static filled the air. The screams and cries could still be heard outside, but no further gunshots rang out.

Power surged through Wanda’s veins, making her body tremble as Peter pulled on his suit. “It’s time,” Wanda breathed. She flicked her wrist and, in the blink of an eye her red dress swirled into her signature red leather trench coat and boots.

Peter smirked. “Let’s kick some ass.”  His red-and-blue suit tightened as he tapped the spider on his chest.

They bolted toward the kitchen door. Peter peered through the fogged circular window: ice curled down his spine at the sight. 

The winged figure, now lounging against the wall, barked orders at the armed thugs, who had forced the terrified crowd to the floor, hands clasped over their heads. A dead silence hung in the air.

Wanda, her voice hoarse, grabbed his hand. “I’ll handle the gunmen, you take care of the boss.” She exhaled slowly. “On three?” 

Peter stiffened, nodding under his mask. “One,” he said under his breath, reaching up to the door.

“Two.” Wanda forced a smile, brushing a finger over his knuckles.

“Three.” Peter kicked the door open as Wanda conjured threads of red magic, plucking the guns from the startled thugs’ grasps. Peter fired a spiral of webbing toward the patriarch, who, startled, only had time to flinch before being glued to the wall, wings and limbs trapped by the sticky web. 

Wanda slammed her hands down, hurling the henchmen, unconscious, to the floor.

Wanda and Peter shared a smug look, but that was before the kingpin of the group raised his wings. It was the first time Peter caught a proper glimpse of him — with his grey faceplate akin to that of Iron Man’s, the mechanical wings with swirling turbines and overlapping panels, and the silver-and-green armour plating coating his body —  as the lights stuttered on and off, the villain sliced the web with his wings, as though he were controlling them with his mind, and raised his hand, sending a blast of yellow-white electricity toward him—  

— and everything went black.

***

Wanda gasped in shock and horror. Peter was knocked against the door, a sizzling impact point on his chest. She nearly screamed his name, but the sake of his identity sealed her lips. “You monster,” she cried.

“Oh, I’m not a monster,” the villain sneered, ripping the remaining shreds of web from his arms. His wings unfurled with a metallic snap. “I’m the Vulture. And I think it’s time we took this outside.”

Before Wanda had time to react, the Vulture sped towards her, his feet leaving the ground, the turbines in his wings screaming wildly. His gauntleted hand impacted on her stomach and knocked the air from her lungs. The Vulture dragged Wanda along the wall, dislodging paintings and ornaments as he flung her towards the window.

Wanda reached up, her magic flowing through her hands, breaking the window and cushioning her fall onto the hard pavement outside. She tumbled into the road, and cars swerved away from her, but she used her magic to stop them from crashing into buildings. 

Before she knew it, the Vulture was upon her again, this time with electricity hissing around his arms. Plumes of sizzling energy whizzed towards her, but she deflected the worst of it — but her sleeve was left charred and torn. Her boots scraped on the asphalt sickeningly, as the rebound from the blasts shook her. 

The Vulture’s shadow darkened the pavement as his wings snarled above her. “The fangs of fate have turned against you, Wanda.” He raised an armoured arm, rapid surges of white-yellow light dancing at his fingertips. “Say ‘hi’ to your mother in hell—” 

The rest of his words died in his throat as Wanda’s irises turned red and she twisted a hand, her built-up energy accumulating in a single moment. The Vulture’s wings began to buckle, the metal creaking and groaning as the red magic enveloping them tightened its deadly grasp, the villain's death imminent.

“W-what are you doing?” The Vulture shrieked. “No, this isn’t possible!”  The malefactor’s wings crumpled further around him.

Wanda was about to finish him when the Vulture’s mouth curled into a cruel smile. “Nice try.” He sneered mockingly. “But you’re not the only one with some tricks up your sleeve.” He snapped his wings open, shredding her magic, and Wanda faltered. She hesitated a moment too long.

The Vulture’s hand shot forward, and a jolt of electricity flew towards her, burning the air. Wanda gasped. A car swung into view and knocked the Vulture out of the sky. His electricity flickered and died inches away from her face. The Vulture crashed down heavily into an empty grocery store, the car flipping and grinding over him.

A trail of webbing whipped behind the vehicle, and Wanda spun toward the source.

Peter.

He stood outside the Gilded Lion, mask discarded, grim determination etched into his face, his hand still raised from hurling the car. Wanda caught his gaze. He was holding his chest awkwardly, and she could see his pained expression even through his mask. She ran over to him. The street was deserted, bar from the flames licking at the road.

“Peter, are you okay?” Wanda cried, her face one of anguish.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I’m good,” Peter croaked. His suit was burnt and charred on his chest from the snap of electricity the Vulture had fired. He sat down weakly and Wanda thought it was a miracle he was still conscious.

She brushed a hand over the wound, scarlet magic tingling at her fingers, and the suit began to sew itself back together, the blood dried up and Peter stood up. 

“Wow, Wanda!” Peter gasped. “That was awesome!” 

Before she could reply, she heard a familiar metallic snarl. She looked around, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. The Vulture was back in the air, zaps of yellow light dancing on his fingers. “Cute trick. But I’m not done yet.”

***

Peter stepped protectively in front of Wanda as crimson magic curled around her hands.  “I don’t need shielding,” Wanda whispered. Peter smiled. 

That’s when he saw it.

The red laser dot hovering over Wanda’s chest. She was blind to it.. Peter’s head snapped up to the roof of the building opposite so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash.

A sniper, clad in black clothing and goggles. A gun aimed straight at her head.

“Wanda!”

He launched a web at her as her gaze met his. He yanked her toward him as the sniper fired right where she just was. Peter caught Wanda as she whipped through the air, and she gasped. The bullet whizzed past, and smashed through a window of the Gilded Lion.

Wanda glanced at Peter, gratitude evident. The Vulture snarled in frustration, beating his wings in the air as the turbines grinded on the metal.

Peter gently set Wanda down on the floor, but before he could register the situation, the Vulture swooped down, launching a razor-sharp blade from the tip of his wing straight at Wanda. 

Peter launched himself in front of her, and the blade sliced across his chest. The pain was unbearable, and as he hit the floor, gasping, his eyes closed and he heard Wanda’s scream.

Chapter Text

Wanda knelt beside Peter. Her hands were trembling. There was so much blood. Her eyes were filling with tears and her vision was misting over. 

“Well, well, well,” the Vulture chuckled. His mouth curled into a malicious smile. “Not so brave without your partner in crime, are we?”

Wanda’s breath hitched. “You will pay,” she whispered. Her irises burned crimson. The Vulture’s snigger filled her ears. “You will pay.” She repeated.

Magic erupted from her hands, chaos hummed in the air and the ground beneath her began to crack. She slowly walked towards the Vulture, a trail of scarlet flame crackling in her footsteps. Red light coiled up her arms lashed around her as chunks of concrete and stone creaked from the ground, their sharpened points aimed at the Vulture’s heart. 

The Vulture’s face fell. “Oh, sh—” 

With a flick of Wanda’s wrist, the Vulture found himself flat on the ground, struggling under the weight of the full force of Wanda’s magic. He thrashed, but it was clamped around him like a vice. The ground around him cracked, thin rifts of hollow space knotting around him.

“You shouldn’t have touched him.” Wanda said grimly, her voice low.

The Vulture’s wings began to bend, metal creaking and twisting unnaturally. Red light enveloped him. As the Vulture’s rage-filled cries whipped around the road, a movement in the corner of Wanda’s eye attracted her gaze.

The Vulture's sniper accomplice.

The man in black cocked his gun, aiming the weapon at Wanda. As the bullet screeched through the air, Wanda flung her other hand out and the bullet swung backwards, sending it back towards the rooftop. It caught the sniper on the shoulder, and he lost his balance, tipping over the edge and plummeting to the pavement below. Wanda caught him before he crashed to the ground, and encased him inside a wall, the bricks rearranging in a scarlet light to form a cage around the unconscious man.

Wanda turned her attention back to the Vulture, who was still straining under the power of her magic. She lifted him up in one swift motion, and his wings crushed inward with a blood-curdling crunch. She dropped his limp body to the rubble, and left him unconscious on what was once a car bonnet. She felt like only the devil could hurt her more.

She turned to where Peter lay paling on the ground. His breathing was shallow and infrequent. His hair was dried with blood and She dropped to her knees, her hands hovering over his chest. Her powers flickered uncertainly. She was terrified.

She was aware of Peter’s hand curling shakily over hers. “Hey,” he croaked softly. “What you did back there wasn’t too bad.” 

Wanda felt a tear slip slowly down her face. A faint smile pulled at Wanda’s lips. “Thanks for saving me,” she whispered.

“You saved me first.” Peter said weakly. “It was only fair.”

Wanda closed her eyes, feeling the familiar surge of her magic as red light wrapped around Peter’s gashing wound, and his breathing evened out. He opened his eyes.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her voice low and teasing. Their faces were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her face. Wanda had read enough books, watched enough shows to know what would happen next. She brought her face a little closer to his. Peter gently raised his hand to cheek, cupping it in his hands. She loved the way his eyes were slightly different colours. She loved the way he smiled. She noticed every detail about him and she lived every part of it. Her heart hammered as he tilted his head and their lips met.  

Her world flipped upside down. His lips were soft but certain, and Wanda melted into it, her hands sliding into his hair. His breath hitched as she pressed closer, the crackle of distant flames fading into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless.

“Not bad,” Wanda teased, her voice light despite the pounding in her chest.

Peter chuckled, his eyes crinkling. Wanda leaned down and kissed him again, deeper this time, her hands tightening in his hair. The flickering glow of dying embers danced across their faces as Wanda smiled against his lips.

The sirens neared them and a handful of police cars skidded round the junction, blue and red lights flashing on the walls of the buildings. Wanda helped Peter to his feet, and people started to pour from the Gilded Lion. Peter ducked his face away from the crowd, and Wanda, with a flick of her wrist, summoned his Spider-Man mask from inside the restaurant. He hurriedly pulled it on, shooting her a grateful glance.

The policemen swarming over the scene found the sniper encased in the brick wall, and when Wanda asked about the Vulture, they said they found a metal-winged man in the rubble. Wanda felt her heart soar. The Vulture had been caught. Peter squeezed her hand, a deep sense of joy settling in her heart.

***

Peter woke the next morning feeling like a different person. He’d snuck in the kitchen door, trying to avoid detection by May, last night, and provided a somewhat appropriate note for her to find the following morning. 

Then he remembered.

Wanda had kissed him yesterday. Him, of all people. He didn’t deserve her. He pulled on a loose T-shirt and jeans and checked his phone’s notifications.

Ned: How do you feel about saving loads of people at the Gilded Lion yesterday? It was all over the news.

“Hey, Peter?” Aunt May called from the kitchen. “How did the science thing go yesterday?”

“Yeah, it was good!” Peter yelled back. “I’ll be down in a minute!” He turned his attention back to his phone.

Ned: I heard Wanda saved you a billion times

Peter: It wasn't like that

Ned: Then what was it like?

Peter: She kissed me… 

Ned: !!!!!

Ned: !!!!!!!!??????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ned: YOU'RE LYING. TELL ME YOU’RE LYING.
Ned: IF YOU'RE LYING I WILL NEVER RECOVER.

Ned: WAIT. WAS IT LIKE, A “YOU’RE ALIVE” KISS OR A “I LIKE YOU” KISS??

Ned: PETER ANSWER THE PHONE.

Peter grinned, shaking his head as his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Ned. He ignored it and typed:

Peter: An "I like you" kiss 

Ned: BRO. BRO. BRO. BRO. BRO.
Ned: HOW ARE YOU TEXTING RIGHT NOW. HOW ARE YOU FUNCTIONING.

Ned: I WOULD HAVE FAINTED.

“Peter!” May called again.

Peter: Gotta go

Ned: KISSSSSSSSSSS

Peter ran down the corridor, an ecstatic smile stuck on his face. Yep. Definitely a different person.

“What are you so happy about, mister?” May questioned him, raising her brows as she piled some pancakes on a plate. “I don’t think an ordinary science meet-up is that exciting. C’mon, tell me what happened.” She handed him the plate, after drizzling on some maple syrup, and sat down at the table opposite him. So, May obviously hadn’t checked the news yet. 

Peter fumbled for a suitable excuse, but was saved by May checking her watch. “Oh my goodness! You’ll be late for school! Eat up!” He was hurriedly shoved from the house, his mouth stuffed with half-eaten pancake.

***

“Can anyone tell me what the names of the eras were when Queen Elizabeth I and King James I of England ruled?” Professor Lambwick asked, his voice pointed and laced with impatience. No one said anything. It was the first lesson of the week and not a single student wanted to be in the history classroom, and they weren’t afraid to show it. There were audible yawns behind Peter, and Ned shuffled awkwardly next to him. The rows of shiny, uncomfortable plastic seats were filled by only half of the class, as the others were obviously bunking. 

Peter, for a different reason, was barely concentrating. He was staring at his notebook, his expression distant, as his mind was focusing on one thing, and one thing only.

Wanda.

He couldn’t get her out of his head. The way she had run over to him when he’d been hit by the Vulture’s blade, the way she looked so terrified when trying to tackle his wound. The way she looked like she cared so much. 

And then there was the kiss.

The kiss was a whole other story. One, which, he told himself urgently, would not be occupying his focus over the upcoming history exam, for which the revision lessons should be being paid attention to. He wasn’t even aware of Lambwick asking him to answer the question. Ned helpfully waved a hand in front of his face.

He said what came to his mind first, so it was no surprise that the entire class tried to suppress a snort when Peter said, “Queen James was 1489.”

Lambwick’s face was taut. “I do not appreciate your humour, Parker. James VI and I was King of Scotland from 24 July 1567, and King of England and Ireland as James I from the union of the Scottish and English crowns until 1625.” By this point, many of the class were groaning, awaiting a long, boring lecture. “Although he long tried to get both countries to adopt a closer political union, the kingdoms of Scotland and England remained mostly separate.” 

Lambwick’s voice faded into the background. Peter’s gaze was fixed on his exercise book, but his mind was elsewhere. Maybe that’s how he felt it. Maybe it was because he was thinking about her that he thought he could actually see her. Maybe that’s why his body prickled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

His stomach flipped and his heart skipped a beat.

He wasn’t daydreaming.

He could see her in his mind, he could see her in real life, and he could see the gun pointed at her head.

Chapter Text

Wanda trailed a hand down the misty window of the corner store’s fridge. She bent down, trying to peer through the glass. Whole or semi-skimmed milk? She straightened up, wrenching the scrap of paper from the bottomless hole of her pocket, smoothing the folds out and scrunching her eyes in an attempt to read her terrible handwriting.

Bread—check. Strawberries—check. Cereal—check. Just one thing left: milk.

Wanda pulled out her phone, typing “best cheap milk type” into the search bar. She scrolled absently, skimming an article before settling on a four-pint bottle of semi-skimmed and dropping it into her basket. With that, she made her way to the till, paying for her groceries without a second glance at the wary store staff.

She was used to the stares. The hushed whispers. The sideways glances edged with fear.

But as she turned to leave, a little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve and pointed straight at Wanda, eyes wide with awe.

“She’s so pretty!”

Wanda smiled. Her day was made.

But as she passed through the automatic doors to the street beyond, a clicking noise echoed behind her and she spun on her heel. 

She was met with the barrel of a gun.

Her heart plunged into her stomach and the milk and strawberries dropped from her hands, splattering on the sidewalk. For some reason, Peter flitted through her mind.

She struggled to level her breathing, and the cold, hard metal of the gun stared unforgivingly, deep into her soul. 

Her heartbeat spiked, and the steady pulse seemed to slow and stretch as the cold, hard eyes that stared at her from under the black ski mask pulled over the assailant’s face. Her magic twitched under her skin, but she tried to stay calm.

“Give me all your money.” The man snarled, another echoing click popping from his gun. Wanda heard the little girl from the store scream, and the man looked past Wanda, aiming the gun at the girl instead. “Give me all your money,” he paused. “Or I kill these people.” 

The girl and her mother were cowering behind the tills with the terrified store staff.

As the man barged past Wanda, he chuckled, but before he could get to the people behind the counter, he found red magic swirling around his arms, the gun sliding uselessly from his hand and whirling into a pile of canned beans. He darted away from Wanda, but she clenched her fist, and his black sneakers attached themselves firmly to the tiled floor, and he hit the ground hard.

As the man’s unconscious body sprawled over the floor, Wanda turned to the girl and her mother. “Go, go, now!” Wanda cried, ushering them and the till operator out of the building before grabbing her phone and calling 911.

***

Peter tried to ignore the confused and angry cries as he leapt from his desk and vaulted over Ned’s, sprinting to the door and crashing out into the corridor. Lambwick’s haughty voice echoed down the hall as he raced to the fire exit doors.

His history classroom was three stories up, and as he prised open a window and launched himself into the street, he pulled on his mask, which he hoped would do enough to hide his identity without his suit.

He swung from building to building, speeding toward the corner store he’d seen Wanda outside in his daydream. The city blurred past him, his hands raw on the web without his suit. The closer he got, the tighter his stomach knotted. 

As he rounded the corner, his heart in his throat, he nearly crashed into a row of police cars crowded outside the corner store.

He stumbled on to the ground, darting behind a car and pulling his mask off. He tried to play it cool, walking casually up to an officer, who turned, and asking, “Have you, uh, seen…” He paused. Would the officer recognise Wanda by her name? She had been on the news quite recently… 

Before he could finish his sentence, he saw a black hoodie beyond the officer, and a tumble of strawberry-blonde hair. His world seemed to come to a stop.

Wanda.

His breath caught — she was okay.

He ran up to her; she was sitting on a bench, consoling a terrified little girl, but she didn’t look hurt.

“Hey,” Peter whispered. Wanda looked up, and her face spread into a slightly surprised smile, her 

“Peter.” Wanda stood up, her face twisting into one of worry. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

Peter took a half-step closer, his heart still pounding in his ears. The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet—not after running, not after seeing Wanda sitting there, safe but clearly shaken. He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, to do something, but his hands hovered uselessly at his sides.

“I—uh—saw the police cars,” he said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I thought—” You thought what, Parker? That she wouldn’t be okay? That she needed you to save her? Wanda tilted her head, studying him with those sharp, knowing eyes, and he realized she already knew what he was thinking.

Her lips twitched, just barely. “You thought I got myself in trouble?”

Peter exhaled sharply. “I knew you didn’t need me to do anything, but—” He hesitated, glancing at the little girl still curled into Wanda’s side. Her tiny fingers clutched at Wanda’s sleeve like she was afraid to let go. Her mother, standing nearby, was talking shakily with a police officer.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Peter finished, softer this time.

Wanda sighed and rubbed the girl’s back reassuringly. “I’m fine, Peter.” She wasn’t lying, exactly, but he could hear the exhaustion behind her words. “Just another day in paradise.”

Peter scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, because stopping armed robbers in grocery stores is so normal.” His voice was light, teasing, but his eyes searched her face carefully. Wanda had saved lives today, and yet…

He knew that wasn’t what people would focus on.

The officers’ glances were already being thrown at her, wary and fearful. To them, Wanda was the young woman with the terrifying magical powers who should be avoided at all costs.

“Peter… why aren’t you at school?” Wanda frowned, but her face soon reletented to a teasing smile. “Do you care about me so much that you’ve bunked class?”

“Well… no, school, uh, finished, early.” Peter ran a hand through his hair.

“School finished after only one lesson?” Wanda raised an eyebrow.

The girl holding Wanda’s hand skipped happily away, her mother freed from the interrogation of the police officers.

Wanda began to walk slowly away from the store, beckoning Peter to stroll beside her.

“Uh… yeah! Surprise half-day! Super rare.” He couldn’t help but notice Wanda’s dubious look. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little worried!” Peter admitted, throwing up his hands as he ran up to her. “But I had a reason — I had this weird daydream of you outside this store, and then —”

He stopped as Wanda’s smirk grew impossibly smug.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her eyes widening in amused horror. “I sent that to you.”

Peter blinked. “What?”

Wanda pressed her fingers to her temple, shaking her head. “I was thinking about you in the store, and my magic must’ve — ugh. It must’ve slipped. I… think I sent you my actual thoughts.”

Peter gaped at her. “You… you texted me with your brain?”

She shuffled awkwardly. “I mean, when you say it like that—”

“You brain-texted me a fake crisis and made me jump out of a three-story window?!” Peter groaned. “Do you know how many weird looks I got on the way out? Ned’s never gonna let me live this down.”

Wanda tried, and utterly failed, to look sympathetic. “Hey, in my defense, I didn’t mean to! But… it’s kinda sweet how fast you got here.”

Peter huffed, but his lips twitched. “Yeah, yeah. Just… maybe let me know next time before I go full action-movie escape?”

Wanda grinned. “Noted.”

Peter felt his chest lift as it fully dawned on him that Wanda was okay. She was safe, and she was with him. 

“So what happened to the guy with the gun?” Peter said uncertainly.

“Well, let’s just say that my magic didn’t mix well with him, and, uh, the police found him stuck to the floor…” Wanda — and Peter — suppressed a laugh. “What are you gonna do now then? Seeing as I, the damsel in distress, survived this epic disaster.” She threw a hand theatrically to her forehead. 

“I can’t go back to school now.” Peter swallowed. “Lambwick would kill me.” Wanda nodded knowingly, although she obviously didn’t have a clue who Lambwick was. “I’ll lay low for a couple days.” 

Wanda giggled. “You sound like an army officer.” She brought her fingers up in a gun shape. Peter snorted. “So, what do you want to do?” She kicked a loose stone on the sidewalk.

“I have no idea.” Peter whispered hopelessly. “Ugh, Aunt May’s gonna kill me.” He sighed.

“So much death in one day. First school, now your home life…” She grinned.

“She raised me, y’know?” He said. “I live with her.” Peter glanced at Wanda. “My parents were killed when I was young.”

Wanda took a deep breath in before she replied. “Mine too.” They looked at each other for a long, solemn moment. Wanda broke the silence, squeezing Peter’s hand. “How about a second date?” She tried to smile.

“Sure.” Peter’s heart picked up at the idea, but he tried to stay calm. “Sounds good.” He was surprised when Wanda grabbed his hand, leading him further along the street.

“C’mon, just trust me,” Wanda said, her smile seeping into her voice. She said it like Peter had a choice.

He did.

And he would always choose Wanda.

No matter what.

Chapter Text

Peter sat down at his workbench in the evening, pulling his safety goggles on as he did so. He insisted that Wanda do the same.

“But I’m not going anywhere near the workbench.” She protested.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Peter said, tugging the other pair of goggles over Wanda’s head, tucking her stray hair behind her ear as well. His thumb lingered on her cheek, and a faint smile tugged at Wanda’s lips. “I’m, uh, gonna get started then…” Peter sat down at the workbench awkwardly, scooping up his equipment. He still felt like he was missing something… 

“It says here that you need vibranium and… uh, titanium carbide? I’ve definitely said that wrong. And a heat-proof pot — oh, and a Bunsen Burner.” Wanda offered a scrap of paper to him. Oh! That’s what he forgot!

“Thanks.” Peter said, reaching across the table to grab the paper. Warmth bloomed as their fingers brushed.

He cleared his mind and set to work. First, he had to melt down the samples of vibranium and titanium carbide, and then mix them before cooling the substance as a compound. Easy, right?

His fingers flew over the workspace, flicking switches, lighting flames and scribbling down observations. He placed the vibranium and titanium in a pot made of hafnium carbide, which had cost a fortune, and held it with a clamp, stand and boss over a bunsen burner for the required time. He then took the now-liquid metals and stirred them with a hafnium carbide rod, and set them down to cool.

Phew.

As the metals cooled, he let out a breath, only then noticing Wanda watching him closely, her expression affectionate. His gaze darted up to meet hers.

“What?” He said, laughter seeping into his voice.

“You’re cute when you’re working.” Wanda smiled. She leaned on the table, gazing at him. 

“Hey, I’m not “working”, I’m creating a new, metal compound. You’re literally witnessing the birth of a new age of Spider-Man suits! Plus, these hafnium carbide pots and rods and stuff are top-tier equipment.” Peter stood up, walking over to her. “I think Mr Stark is gonna be chuffed.”

“So, should I start calling you “Professor Parker” now?” Wanda said, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Peter laughed. He sat down next to her, brushing stray hair behind her ear.

“You’re such a nerd.” Wanda whispered.

Peter grinned, leaning in just a little closer. “You say “nerd” like it’s a bad thing, but let’s be real, if I wasn’t a nerd, we wouldn’t be sitting here watching the birth of Titanium V-Carb — oh, wait, or should it be Vibricarbium? No, that sounds like a vitamin — maybe Carbranium? Ooh, or—”

Wanda rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Peter.”

“Yeah?”

She didn’t answer. She just grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him into a kiss. His heart raced. Peter made a tiny, surprised noise before relenting, his hand instinctively resting on her cheek. For once, his brain shut up. Wanda’s lips were soft, warm and entirely effective in silencing him.

She pulled back first, a surprised glint in her eyes. “Sorry, I just — ”

“Couldn’t bear to hear my scientific rambling?” Peter smiled, dazed. “Uh… what was I saying again?”

She grinned. “Doesn’t matter.”

He stared at her for a second longer before shaking his head with a chuckle. “Wow. So that’s how you plan on shutting me up from now on?”

“Mm-hmm.” Wanda leaned back against the table, smug, but failing to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks. “It’s a very effective method.”

“Peter!” They both jumped to the sound of May’s voice echoing down the hall. “Why are there webs on my coffee mug?” Her footsteps neared his workbench. Peter met Wanda’s eye, panic flitting across his face.

***

The voice of the woman rang in Wanda’s ears as she tried to “brain-text” Peter. 

Does she know about me? Does she know that you’re Spider-Man?

His eyes widened — at least she knew it worked — and the subtle shake of his head told her everything she needed to know. Her mind raced as she tried to think of viable excuses for why she was at Peter’s home without May’s permission.

“Peter?” May’s head popped round the door, her brown tangle of hair whipping around the frame. “Ooh, hello! We’ve got some company!” She emerged fully, her dressing gown and bunny-rabbit slippers putting Wanda at ease instantly. 

“Oh! Uh — May! Hi! Hey, look at you! Existing! In the — uh, in the hallway!” Peter fumbled with his words, smiling ecstatically at May. 

Wanda resisted the urge to facepalm. Oh my god, he’s actually malfunctioning.

May raised an eyebrow. “...Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Totally fine! I, uh — uh, this is Wanda! Yeah, Wanda! My—uh—”

“We met in high school.” Wanda cut  in smoothly. “We got to know each other this year, actually, when our science teacher, I’m sure you know him—” Wanda didn’t, that’s for sure — “paired us together. Y’know, register order and stuff.” Wanda made a mental note to congratulate herself later for coming up with the perfect cover-up lie so swiftly.

“Oh, cool…” May said hesitantly, staring at Peter. “So, what project are you working on?”

Peter looked at Wanda expectantly. She sighed. “We’re bonding metals by melting and cooling them in nafnium darbite pots.” She hoped that sounded anything like what Peter had said earlier. “Or, whatever they are.”

May laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t know either.” She placed a hand on the table. “So, what do you want for dinner?”

Peter looked at Wanda. His face was open, readable, almost like he wanted her to read his mind… 

She concentrated on him, and his thoughts started to float across hers: Spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti.

“Um… uh, spaghetti?” Wanda asked hesitantly, glancing between May and Peter. May frowned. “Sorry, I just, um, Peter told me that that’s his favourite dinner.” If she wasn’t in a room with her boyfriend and his aunt, she would be on her knees and praying that Peter liked spaghetti.

“Observant!” May smiled. “Yeah, he loves his pasta. I’ll put the hob on.” As soon as May shut the door behind her, Wanda breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god, Wanda! What was that?” Peter exclaimed, skidding around the workbench and plonking himself next to her. “You just went full save-my-ass mode! That was awesome! Like, you saved me by talking about a “science project” you said we were doing. Oh yeah, I think we should totally carry on mixing the titanium carbide and the vibranium by taking the cooled metal—” 

He was cut off mid-sentence as Wanda met his lips with hers. She lifted up a hand, brushing a finger past his jaw. When she pulled back, she was breathless. “Wow, that worked even quicker than last time.” She smirked. 

***

“Gosh, May!” Peter grinned. “This looks amazing!” Three bowls of steaming spaghetti bolognese clinked onto the table, their delicious aroma wafting into Peter’s lungs. He breathed in the smell, failing to fight the smile creeping across his face.

“Thank you so much for having me, Mrs Parker.” Wanda started.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Wanda, and please, May is fine.” His aunt replied, tugging her dressing gown tighter around her. The sound of forks scraping against plates echoed around the room in the content quiet of mealtimes.

And then he felt it.

The tingling sensation that spread everywhere in his body and made his hair stand on end.

He glanced out of the window.

A ship was hovering over the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Chapter Text

Wanda’s head swam as Peter, now clad in his Spider-Man suit, set her gently down on the ground. She made a mental note to never, ever let him swing her around in the street, hanging onto flimsy webs, ever again. She looked up. The ship floating above the Sanctum loomed ominously in the twilight, its formidable form sending shivers down her spine.

“Parker. Maximoff.” Tony Stark's voice further increased her dread. “It’s good that you’re here.” He stepped towards them, his arc reactor glimmering on his chest. “That thing doesn’t look too friendly.” Wanda glanced beyond him, surprised to see Doctor Strange, the master of the mystic arts himself, and Black Widow, the legendary assassin. Both Avengers were deep in conversation, their expressions grim.

Stark cleared his throat, shooting a glance at them over his shoulder. They approached, Strange’s cloak swishing around him and Natasha’s hair tumbling down her back.

The five of them stood in a line as a blue beam shimmered down from the ship overhead. “Where’s everyone else?” Stark whispered, his tone urgent.

“They’re looking for Vision.” Natasha replied. “He’s gone missing.” Wanda’s heart lurched, a pool of dread settling in her stomach. Vis? she thought, why is he missing?

The beam of blue light reached the road, and five figures appeared on the floor, their shapes imposing on the Avengers huddled by the Sanctum.

The first, a hulking, brutish giant, as tall as the lamppost next to him, had rough skin dappled with grey and brown, his armour glinting in the moonlight, and an axe-looking weapon with spikes of grey metal. The second, a tall, horned warrior sporting waves of blue hair and clutching a staff zapping with electricity. Her face was striped by a line of a blue tattoo. Beyond her stood a thin, goblin-like assassin with wrinkled pale skin and a dark green shawl poured over his shoulders like poison, his long fingers wrapped around a pointed spear, its deadly point scraping along the tarmac. The fourth, a creepy, grey-skinned, mutilated thing with sparse silver hair and a noseless sneer. Wanda couldn’t think of anything else to describe him. He was a monster.

And the fifth.

Vision.

His grey, discoloured corpse trailed along the ground alongside the others, a dented hole in his forehead where the Mind Stone used to be. Wanda staggered back, her heart in her throat. That wasn’t Vision, not the Vision she knew, but her mind couldn’t process that. 

All she could think about was the vacant, dead look on her friend’s face. 

Stark ventured brazenly toward the four monsters, confused and defiant. Strange and Nat came alongside him. Wanda gripped Peter’s hand, her eyes stinging with tears.

“Hear me and rejoice!” The noseless thing cried. “You have had the privilege of being saved by the Great Titan . You may think this is suffering. No — it is salvation.” The giant beside him grunted, swinging his hammer at a nearby car. “The universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice.” The grey-skinned thing continued. “Smile... for even in death, you have become children of Thanos.” Wanda felt sick. “Be thankful that your meaningless lives are now contributing to—”

“I’m sorry, Earth is closed today.” Stark interrupted. “You better pack it up and get out of here.” He swallowed. “Um, who are you, by the way?”

“I am Ebony Maw, spokesperson and child of Thanos, the Great Titan.” The noseless thing replied. “My companions are Cull Obsidian, Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive.” Ebony Maw gestured to the giant, the horned warrior and the goblin in turn. “We are the Black Order.”

“What do you want?” Tony asked defiantly. Wanda’s chest tightened.

“The Time Stone.” Proxima Midnight grunted. Maw nodded.

“Stone-keeper.” Maw turned to Strange. “Does this chattering animal speak for you?”

“Certainly not, I speak for myself.” Strange quipped, summoning orange discs around his wrists.

“And you, witch?” Ebony Maw now turned to Wanda. She felt her heart sink. Peter squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“I — he, um, yes.” Wanda said hoarsely, her fear almost tangible.

“You are trespassing in this city and on this planet.” Strange said defensively. 

“That means get lost, Squidward!” Stark yelled.

“He exhausts me.” Maw sighed. He turned to Corvus Glaive and Cull Obsidian. “Bring me the stone—” 

“What did you do to Vision?” Stark exclaimed suddenly, as if only just noticing him.

“Oh, this thing?” Proxima Midnight gestured at Vision’s corpse levitating beside her. “We killed him. To get the Mind Stone.” 

Maw sneered, an evil grin creeping across his face as he lifted a hand and Vision’s body began to float. Telekinesis, Wanda thought with a gasp. Vision’s lifeless form began crumpling in on itself and rupturing. Her breath hitched.

Maw smirked as Vision exploded into a thousand grey pieces, taking Wanda’s heart with it. “Vis!” She cried, tempted to leap forward, but instead she pulled herself into Peter’s shoulder, sobbing into his red and blue suit. She felt his arms wrap around her. 

Maw laughed, a horrible, grating sound that filled Wanda’s ears. “Give me the stone.”

“Over my dead body.” Strange clenched his jaw. Wanda let go of Peter, her body trembling with rage.

“Then I’ll take it off your corpse.” Maw’s feet left the ground as he flew backwards, letting his companions take the lead.

Obsidian charged forward, his hammer wrecking anything in his path. Stark, however, stepped forward calmly, tapping his arc reactor twice. Red and gold metal began to creep around his body, forming his Iron Man suit and helmet. He raised a palm, and a jolt of energy sent Obsidian flying backward.

“What was that?” Peter cried.

“Nano-tech — you like it?” Stark laughed. Maw lifted a hand and Stark found himself in the sky, a column of rock pushed hard against his body.

Glaive stalked toward Strange, a menacing, predatory look on his face. Nat intercepted him, and their weapons met, Glaive’s spear-like sceptre scraping against Natasha’s dual batons in a clash of assassins.

“Get out of here, wizard!” Stark exclaimed as he flew down toward Cull Obsidian. Strange nodded, and a portal opened underneath him, and he disappeared from view. Wanda found Peter leaving her side to aid Tony in the battle. 

She turned toward Maw and Proxima Midnight, as the pair circled her, Maw in the air and Midnight behind her.

She felt her chaos magic swell inside her, and she tipped her body back, sending a wave of red pulsing all around her. The blast sent Proxima 

 away from her, but Maw reached out, saying m and a car flew in front of him, protecting him from the burst.

“Your powers are quaint. You must be popular with the children.” Maw hissed.

“Get off my planet,” Wanda grimaced, red curling around her hands. 

“Make me,” he snickered, flicking his fingers. Bricks loosened themselves from the walls around him, and as he flicked a wrist, they crumbled into sharpened daggers. He raised his arm at her, and the pointed rocks flew toward her, twisting in the air like deadly missiles.

Wanda barely had time to react — her chaos magic flared instinctively, creating a shimmering red shield in front of her. The stone daggers slammed against it, shattering into dust on impact — but Maw was relentless. With a twist of his hands, metal pipes from deep underground groaned and wrenched free, spinning toward her like javelins. 

In her peripheral vision, Peter swung around Obsidian and Stark, webbing the monster’s limbs to the ground as Tony used the giant as a punching bag. Beyond them, Glaive and Natasha were locked in a fierce battle, their weapons clashing over and over again. 

Strange, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Wanda was so focused on keeping Maw’s attacks at bay that she didn’t hear the crunch of rubble under footsteps until the last moment. Wanda whipped her head round, and the sight of Proxima Midnight, now recovered, creeping up behind her, blade raised, sent her brain into overdrive. 

With one hand, she kept the barrage of rubble from Maw from reaching her, and with the other, she sent a beam of chaos magic toward Midnight, but the warrior caught the blast with her staff, and the energy split, rays of red cutting through everything around her. 

Wanda stumbled as a whole car sent by Maw hit her shimmering shield, misaligning her magic from Proxima’s spear for a second, and before she knew it, she was on her, blade spinning madly as Wanda struggled to block each attack.

To make matters worse, Maw was battering her with shards of rubble, and soon Wanda was getting beaten to hell and back and when Midnight’s blade lashed her across her temple and she lost consciousness, she almost felt… relief.

Chapter Text

“You are nothing, human,” Corvus Glaive’s sneering voice filled Natasha’s ears as the assassin pushed down harder with his blade on hers. She grimaced.

“You’re a goblin, so that makes me feel better.” Natasha clenched her fists around her batons and a charge of electricity pulsed down her weapons, pushing Glaive back with a burst of light and stunning him momentarily. 

Behind her, Cull Obsidian dug his axe into a nearby car, flinging the vehicle towards an airborne Iron Man, who dodged the attack, retaliating with a shot from his repulsors, which singed the armour on the giant’s chest.

Peter, seeing an opportunity, struck with a blow of his own, casting two webs on Obsidian’s shoulders before pulling himself toward the brute, lashing out with a kick on Obsidian’s now weak armour.

Then he saw her.

Wanda.

She was lying unconscious on the rift-stricken tarmac, the terrifying forms of Proxima Midnight and Ebony Maw stooping over her, sickening sneers etched on both of their faces. Peter’s heart thudded painfully at his ribs, and as he prepared to attack the pair, something huge and hard dug into his side.

Obsidian’s axe.

The blunt edge, thankfully, but the pain still rang through his body as the weapon crashed him into a building, and Obsidian himself was on him. He lifted his arms, but it was a feeble defense, and the giant pounded him into a pulp in the wall of the building. Where was Stark?

Peter felt only death could be worse than the excruciating pain coursing through his veins. He cried out, ready for his last thoughts in the living world to be Wanda. If he died now, at least he could die loving her.

***

Natasha kicked Glaive in the face, and his lanky form spreadeagled over the sidewalk, his weapon clattering uselessly from his hands. She hastily grabbed at it, and when the cool metal met her hands, she felt a moment of clarity. 

She could end the fight now.

And she did.

She lifted the spiked blade high above her head. “Kiss your Great Titan’s ass, gnome.” She drove the spear deep into Glaive’s heart as his pale face formed one of deep pain. 

As he died, he whispered, “Thanos… is… inevitable…”

And then she heard the cry that rang out through the street, and became suddenly aware of Cull Obsidian wrecking the walls of one of the buildings to a shell of its former self. She caught sight of limp limbs in the concave of concrete, a red and blue flash and a croak of pain.

The kid. 

The spider-guy.

As she jolted forward, ready to race to her ally in need, a beam of energy shot from her left, catching Obsidian on his armoured shoulder, melting the metal. Obsidian grunted, reeling backward. Natasha glanced up, and the sight she saw lifted her heart to heaven. Tony Stark. Hovering just behind her. He yelled, “Get your hands off my Spidey, space Shrek.”

A movement in the building caught her eyes. Spider-Man. The kid’s hand pointed exasperatingly slowly toward her left. She followed his gaze, and was met with the sight of Wanda, lying on the floor, the blade of Proxima Midnight pointed at her throat, and Ebony Maw hovering at her shoulder.

“Hey, sheep-face,” Natasha bellowed. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Proxima’s jaw clenched. “If you insist.” She lifted her staff, and stalked forward, menacingly slowly, her blade scraping against the road. Behind her, Ebony Maw stepped past Wanda, his hands balled into fists at his side.

Natasha, unfazed, shook her wrists, her batons at the ready. “You are a pathetic excuse for a warrior,” Proxima sneered. 

“Oh yeah?” Nat laughed. “I don’t have blue makeup applied by a rat.”

Proxima lunged, screeching, as Natasha lifted her batons, and the weapons met, a clang ringing out across the street to where Obsidian and Stark were engaging in a heated battle.

One moment, Cull Obsidian was standing, deflecting Tony’s attacks like child’s play, and the next, he found himself impaled through the shoulder with the twisted end of a lamppost and growling as he seemingly breathed his last breath.

“Oh, hey, wizard,” Stark cocked his head. Obsidian’s body slid to the side, revealing Doctor Strange standing triumphantly, the Time Stone at his neck glowing faintly. “Aren’t you meant to be running from the pixie circus over here?”

“I got bored.” Strange raised an eyebrow, striding purposefully toward the crumpled building where Peter Parker still lay, a pool of blood forming around him. “Let’s get you fixed up, eh, kid?”

***

Wanda woke with a start. As her vision blurred back into focus, and everything came out from under the painful haze, she began to hear the grating clash of metal against metal, and the grunting pain of someone in agony. That someone was —

Peter.

Her Peter.

Wanda’s head whipped up.

The first thing she saw was the back of Ebony Maw, as he stood watching the fight raging in front of him. Proxima Midnight was locked in a fierce duel with Natasha and Stark, blades swinging and limbs flying.

And beyond them… Beyond them… 

Her heart crumpled at the sight.

Peter was slumped in the wreck of a building, and Strange was kneeled beside him, his hands hovering over his chest. His expression was grim, threads of orange magic wrapping themselves around Peter’s side. She slowly got up, preparing to get over to him as fast as her aching body would allow, but a cry caught her attention.

Natasha was staggering backward. Proxima Midnight’s blade was thrust awkwardly into her abdomen. Midnight laughed cruelly. Tony leapt at her, but she yanked out her weapon, crashing it, charged with electricity, into Tony’s face, and he fell, his suit crippled with the blast.

Wanda felt her blood boil. “Get away from them.” She whispered, but it was enough to attract Maw’s gaze.

“You should’ve stayed down.” His words fell against deaf ears, for Wanda had no intention of curling back into a ball. She was angry now, and she was going to own it.

With a flick of her wrist, Maw found himself wrapped in a scarlet light, and his hisses of pain did nothing to make Wanda relent her attack. 

She heard a roar. Cull Obsidian. He was running toward her, a gaping, bloody hole in his shoulder, from her left, and she suddenly became aware of Proxima Midnight charging at her from her right. She grimaced.

Wanda only had a moment to catch her breath, her heartbeat spiking, before sending the waves sharply at Proxima, the red light curling around her body as Wanda hurled her at Obsidian. The pair crashed into each other, sprawling onto the sidewalk like skittles.

Ebony Maw regained his footing, lifting a hand, sending sharp points of uprooted trees at Wanda, who caught them with her magic, sending them flying toward Cull Obsidian.

Proxima ducked under a blast Wanda sent flying at her, throwing her blade at Wanda with fury. As the spear hurtled toward her, she sent wisps of red tangling around the weapon, and it found itself flying back to sender, and soon embedded in Proxima Midnight’s hip. The crunch of bone sent shivers curling down Wanda’s spine as Proxima fell to the floor, grimacing.

Obsidian righted himself, but Wanda found a crook in his armor, and pried the metal from his body. As the plumes of scarlet tore the armor from him, a cackle sent her attention back to Ebony Maw.

“You think you can stop us, little witch?” Maw cried. “You're nothing compared to the power and might of the Great Titan Thanos.”

“I’ve never heard of him.” Wanda replied as more of Cull’s armor fell uselessly to the ground. “And I don’t plan to meet him.”

Wanda sent a burst of red magic toward Maw. He tried to block the attack with the wreck of a tree, but Wanda’s magic burnt right through the leaves, plummeting with full force into Maw’s stomach. He winced, and with the last sap of his energy, he glided down to land next to Proxima.

Wanda raised her arm to finish them both, but Proxima tapped her wrist, and the blue beam of light fell from the sky once more.

“This isn’t over.” Proxima croaked as she and Ebony Maw began to float up toward the ship, and Maw flicked a finger, summoning the armorless Obsidian to disappear with them into the ship.

As the ship started to fly away, Wanda clenched her fists, and red flows of magic began to pulse around the ship. She was nearing the point where the ship would be crushed back to earth when a shot was fired from somewhere in the ship, exploding right in front of her and sending her tumbling backwards.

She landed hard on her back, but her mind wasn’t focused on that. As the ship sped away, disappearing from sight in seconds, she got to her feet, her muscles screaming, and hobbled over to where Peter and Strange still sat, and her heart leapt into her mouth.

Peter lay, sickeningly pale, his suit dripping with blood and his mask torn and discarded. 

“No, no, no, no, no.” Wanda breathed as she knelt beside him. His eyes were closed. Wanda begged for them to open again, and look at her with that love she felt for him.

“I… I’ve done everything I can.” Strange whispered. “I think we’re going to lose him.”

Chapter Text

Wanda shut her eyes. She breathed in deeply, the metallic scent of blood — Peter’s blood — filling her lungs as she felt her magic flood through her.

She was ready.

She was ready to save him.

She placed a hand on his chest, willing with all her heart for him to come back to her, to grin at her with that boyish charm that made her heart melt. She willed for him to look at her again with that affectionate gaze that made her spirit soar. She willed for him to open his eyes, and hear her tell him how much she loved him.

She felt her magic pour out of her, and every second that the red light filled the back of her eyelids was another second that she felt her energy sapped out of her.

She didn’t care that she was giving her life for his.

She didn’t care that when he woke up, she would be gone.

She didn’t care about anything, as long as he survived.

She felt weak, so weak, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was saving Peter.

Wanda felt her body empty. As the red light behind her eyelids faded, she felt Peter’s heart start to beat again. As she lost all feeling in her legs, she felt Peter’s chest start to rise and fall. As she lost consciousness, she felt Peter gain it.

***

Peter opened his eyes. His body ached everywhere. His vision was blurry, but the first thing he could make out was Stephen Strange, leaning over him, his fingers against his pulse. The cloak around his neck twitched nervously.

“Parker? Are you awake?” Strange’s voice sounded muffled, as though a wall was between them. As his vision cleared, he could see Natasha Romanoff, clutching her stomach, and Tony Stark, crouched behind Strange.

Peter sat up suddenly, startling Strange. “Where’s Wanda?” He looked around. “Where is she?” Natasha looked away, and Tony Stark grimaced.

“She’s gone, kid.” Strange whispered.

“What do you mean, gone?” Peter croaked.

“She gave her life to save you.” Strange glanced behind Peter.

As Peter followed his gaze, his heart stopped.

Wanda, curled in the alcove of the building.

Dead.

“No!” Peter shrieked, ignoring his injuries and scrambling over to her. Tears began to loosen from his eyes. “Wanda, you can’t die.”

Wanda’s face was… almost peaceful. Like she had died knowing he wouldn’t. He kissed her forehead. He was crying freely now. The girl he loved had just given her life to save him.

“Wait.” Strange exclaimed suddenly. “I might be able to save her.”

Peter glanced at him, eyes red and raw, but he didn’t care. Anything to bring her back to him.

Strange stood up slowly, his cloak twitching anxiously as he walked around Tony and Nat. When he reached Wanda and Peter, he crossed his arms, and when he opened them, the Time Stone was glowing furiously. 

Peter could do nothing but watch as plumes of green magic wound themselves from the stone at Strange’s chest to Wanda.

For a few heart-achingly long moments, there was nothing. And then there was something. A faint twitch of Wanda’s hand — a miniscule movement, but Peter saw it. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight against his chest.

“Wanda, come back to me.” Peter whispered. “Come back to me.” Silence. Strange, Peter, Tony, Natasha — they were all waiting for Wanda to wake up.

And when she didn’t, Peter’s heart broke.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Strange’s voice filled the agonizing silence. “I’ve done everything I can.” He stood up solemnly, gesturing for Peter, Tony and Natasha to follow.

As Peter got to his feet, everything was screaming at him. His body, his heart, his mind, it was all trying to stop his leaden legs from dragging himself away from her.

The moonlight dappled her face. The last time he would see her.

He turned away, his heart shattered, and joined Tony, Strange and Natasha outside the alcove.

“That better have been worth it.” A voice croaked from the crumpled building. “I feel like a sleep-deprived sloth right now.”

Wanda.