Chapter Text
The late morning sun filtered through the thinning low-lying clouds, illuminating the surrounding forest in an ethereal glow. The rolling fog on the lake’s crystalline surface began to swirl and rise, slowly dissipating as the sun warmed the earth. The dewdrops on the grass sparkled like jewels, shimmering with every calm whisper of a breeze. Insects in the distance hummed an austere tune, with songbirds beginning to harmonize with a lighthearted melody. The towering pine and oak trees stand unyielding, their branches wavering ever so slightly in the tranquil breeze.
It’s beautiful, Natasha thinks.
She found it ironic that one of the most beautiful days of the year coincided with the biggest funeral Natasha had ever attended. Granted, she had only been to one other funeral, and that was many years ago, during her time with the KGB. The ex-assassin had only attended to take out a high-profile target once the service drew to a close. Back then, she felt no emotion as she watched the deceased being lowered into the ground. But now, the circumstances had changed dramatically.
She can see why Tony and Pepper moved out here all those years ago, why they decided to raise their daughter here. It was far away from the hustle and bustle of life, tucked away in a quiet part of the northern New York woodlands, miles from the nearest town. Having spent the majority of his adult life in the spotlight (with more scrutiny than he’d like to admit. Despite most of his actions, he preferred retaining a fair amount of privacy), this cabin in the woods was something like a godsend to the billionaire and his newlywed wife.
She wonders, however, if Pepper and Morgan will remain here after his death.
As the thought crosses her mind, Pepper steps onto the dock slowly, one hand holding a colorfully decorated wreath and the other holding Morgan’s hand. Once they reach the edge, Pepper crouches down and places the wreath onto the calm waters, giving it a slight push, causing it to float further out into the lake. She remains crouched and pulls Morgan closer to her, embracing her tightly into a side hug.
As Natasha watches the wreath bobbing further in the lake, her eyes catch a glint of a metal object nestled into the center.
An arc reactor. Tony’s first one.
Proof that he had a heart.
Natasha's vision blurs as her eyes fill with tears; she tries to blink them away before they fall, but they appear much too quickly and instead roll down her cheeks faster than she can realize. She wipes them quickly and wills herself to remain as passive as she can.
I’ve cried enough. She chastises herself internally.
She feels a strong arm wrap around her shoulders, squeezing lightly. She doesn’t need to look over to know it’s Steve, and she’s sure he’s giving her a sympathetic look. She finds herself unconsciously leaning into his embrace.
She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she was immensely grateful for Steve these past five years: he was the one who would check up on her at least once a week and make sure she was still properly eating and getting enough sleep at night. He was the only one who would see through every I’m fine thrown his way whenever he questioned how she was doing. If he knew she was having an exceptionally rough day, he would drag her down to the gym and have a no-holds-barred sparring match.
Without him, Natasha’s not sure she’d be here today.
The funeral is wrapping up, with Pepper making a few final remarks to the crowd; she’s thanking them for coming and that Tony appreciated everyone here and he would be so proud…Natasha’s not really paying too much attention. Instead, she’s suddenly hyper-focused on the knot that suddenly formed low in her gut.
She was going to have to face Laura.
She hasn’t spoken to her yet, not since everyone returned. She remembered seeing her and the kids arrive at the destroyed compound in a frenzy, desperately trying to locate Clint. She could hear her voice shaking when she said that he wasn’t answering his calls. Natasha’s heart sank when she heard the woman say that: she was the one who noticed Clint’s phone ringing after Bruce snapped everyone back into existence. She couldn’t find it in her to pick it up.
Natasha turned away as Steve began to explain what had happened. She couldn’t face her right now. Especially not her kids.
An anguished wail shattered her heart into a million pieces. She hurried around the corner, out of sight from the distressing scene behind her, and sat down on her haunches as she suddenly burst into tears.
Oh, Laura, I’m so sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry.
She still sees the image of Laura and her kids all huddled together, shoulders shaking and sobs echoing across the rubble. It’s been keeping her up the week leading up to the funeral.
Well, that, among other things.
When the service draws to a close, everyone scatters, most going up to Pepper and Morgan to offer their condolences, while others speak quietly amongst themselves; some catch up after not seeing each other since the Blip, and others offer up a shoulder to cry on. Natasha wants so desperately to leave, to hop into her car and drive off to God knows where, but she doesn’t; she can’t.
Not until she speaks to her best friend’s recently-widowed wife.
-----------------
It takes Natasha longer than she’d like to admit to muster up the courage to speak to Laura. She chats with Steve and Rhodey for a while, then she asks Carol how long she plans to remain on Earth. When she mentions returning to space, Natasha has to bite her tongue to stop herself from begging the intergalactic hero to allow her to tag along. She realizes after that conversation that she’s acting ridiculous; Laura’s her friend, not some random stranger she’s never met. Laura welcomed her, an ex-assassin, into her home with open arms. She’s fed her, offered her shelter, and she was even a listening ear whenever she had something to get off her chest.
She was the honorary aunt of her children, for fuck’s sake.
So, pushing all her fears and doubts away into the darkest crevasses of her mind, she took a deep breath and made her way over to the brunette woman, who was speaking quietly with Maria.
She waited patiently as the two women finished up their conversation, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She found it kind of funny: she’s taken out heads-of-state and monarchs, and Natasha never felt as nervous as she did at that moment.
When Maria walked away, Natasha cleared her throat.
“Laura,”
The woman turned around rapidly, her slightly red and puffy eyes softening when she saw who had called her attention. A soft, tired smile appeared on her face.
“Nat,”
Her voice was a bit hoarse from crying, but it was still undoubtedly the same soft, warm voice that greeted her every time she showed up at the Barton household, invited or otherwise.
She opened her arms wide and hardly moved an inch, almost as if she was waiting to see if Natasha would reciprocate the embrace. She did, gladly, and practically fell into the older woman’s arms, wrapping her arms around her tiny frame tightly. She buried her face into the side of her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to stop the tears that were rapidly forming from falling.
The two remained in that position for a few moments, just savoring each other’s company, before Laura pulled away and rubbed her biceps, looking Natasha up and down.
“You look great. I love what you did with your hair,”
Nat smiled a bit as she twirled a few strands of hair around her finger. It was still long, now reaching past her sternum, the brilliant platinum tips merging almost seamlessly with the fiery copper of her natural hair color. A few front chunks of hair were pulled back and braided on both sides of her head, meeting together at the back of her head and cascading down into an ombre ponytail.
“Thanks; you look great as well, you haven’t aged a bit,”
The words had already faded in the air by the time Natasha realized what she had said. She bit her tongue and tried to keep from outwardly cringing, but judging by Laura’s sudden laughter, she knew she had made a small face.
“Five years of beauty sleep. It does wonders for your skin!”
Natasha cracked a smile despite the guilt she felt.
“Sorry,”
“Don’t worry about it,” Laura shook her head with a smile.
“There’s nothing we can do but laugh about the past,”
Natasha smiled and looked over Laura’s shoulder, where her three kids were crowded around Peter (although Natasha still only knew him as ‘spider-boy’). Cooper and Nathaniel were begging him to show off his web-slinging skills, and Lila blushed softly behind him. Oh man, was she crushing on him? Natasha imagined Laura would have a field day if the mother ever found out. She knew for a fact Clint would…
“How are they doing?”
Laura turned and stared at her kids.
“They’re doing…alright, all things considered. Lila and Coop aren’t too excited about having to repeat their school year. A lot of their friends didn’t disappear in the Blip and have moved on. I’m glad Nathaniel isn’t old enough to remember any of what happened; it’ll be a lot easier for him to readjust,”
Natasha nodded. She’s never really had a firm grasp on adolescent friendships, as the Red Room forbade it. But she remembers when Lila would engage in rather animated (and, though she’ll never admit this out loud, boring) conversations about school and boys and friends. She had a pretty good idea of how pivotal teenage friendships were.
However, that wasn't the point of Natasha's question.
"How about with...Clint?"
Laura sucked in a deep breath as she thought about her answer.
"It was...difficult for them. Cooper is still pretty angry about it, Lila finally stopped crying multiple times a day, and Nate keeps asking where his Daddy is,"
Natasha bit her lip as she observed the children interact with Peter, feeling the familiar prickle of tears building behind her eyes. She knew Clint should have been here instead of her, embracing his wife while watching their kids laughing and playing without a care in the world. She remembered his final words to her, still echoing clear as day within the recesses of her mind.
Take care of them for me.
“Laura-”
“Don’t,” She interjected, her voice firm yet soft.
“I know what you’re about to say, and I don’t want to hear you say it,”
Natasha shook her head, the tears starting to fill her eyes once again.
“It should have been me,” She whispered, just loud enough for Laura to hear her.
“It should have been neither of you,” Laura turned to Natasha and grabbed her hands, forcing the redhead to look her in the eyes. They held no malice, no anger, just a hint of sadness and pity. Natasha felt her heart clench in her chest.
“But unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out. It sucks, but there’s nothing we can do to fix it,” The older woman smiled sadly.
“I know my husband. He’s stubborn and impulsive, always putting the lives of others before his own. We both knew the risks that came with his job, and we prepared for the worst, God forbid it ever happen,” Her voice wobbled slightly at the end of her sentence, and her eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. Natasha sucked in a breath.
“Well, it’s happened, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken and devastated that it’s come to this. But I want to make one thing clear to you, Natasha Romanoff:”
Laura reached up and cupped Natasha’s cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears that had begun spilling from her eyes.
“I do not blame you for his death. At all,”
With that, Natasha surged forward, embracing the older woman in a tight hug, her tears now flowing like a waterfall as she buried her head into Laura’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Her shoulders shook with each choked sob. She hated swearing in front of Laura, but she was currently too consumed by grief to even care.
“It’s okay,” Laura whispered back. She began rubbing her arm up and down Natasha’s back to soothe her.
“For what it’s worth, out of everyone it could have been, I’m glad it was you he chose to save,”
-----------------
It takes Natasha a good 20 minutes to finally calm down, not aided by the fact that Clint’s kids noticed her crying with their mother. When they all surrounded her and engulfed her in a tight group hug, she was overwhelmed with another wave of fresh tears. She promised them that she would visit as often as possible and that their father loved them very much.
Natasha now stood on the cabin’s front porch, leaning against the railing as she watched the funeral-goers all gradually return to their homes. She finds herself wondering where she would go now that everything was over: Most of the Avengers Compound was destroyed in the battle and rendered uninhabitable, and she knew Tony sold Stark Tower not too long after the Blip. The Russian wasn’t like the others who had homes and families waiting for them; SHIELD had been her home and the Avengers soon after. Wherever they went, she went.
She’d never experienced an ounce of domesticity, and she wasn’t expecting to in the future. The most she’d experienced was a small apartment in Alexandria during her earlier days in SHIELD, but even that was barely furnished as she was rarely home long enough to relax. She mainly used it to take a breather in between missions before heading back out onto the field. She always assumed her life would be lived on the move, staying in safe houses around the world whenever she was on a mission.
While lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the heavy footsteps making her way towards her.
“Think any harder, and you’ll add more wrinkles to that forehead of yours,”
Natasha turned suddenly and came face to face with Nick Fury, his face passive yet soft as he held his hands behind his back.
She laughed sardonically.
“Nice to see you too, old man,”
Nick offered her a rare smile before stopping next to her and looking out over the backyard. The two remained quiet for a few moments before Nick spoke up.
“I’m sorry about Barton,”
Natasha inhaled a sharp breath.
“Thanks,” She mumbled, looking down at her hands. It was all she could think to say. How do you respond to someone offering their condolences for someone who should still be alive?
To her relief, Nick dropped the subject then and there. He could see the hesitation and pain it was causing Natasha to think about her fallen comrade. She could tell he was struggling with the loss as well, but he would never know the true extent of her loss, the pain of watching him fall to his death.
He’ll never know it’s supposed to be me at the bottom of that cliff.
“So, what’s next for the Black Widow?” Nick spoke up, turning his head to look at her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed to herself.
“No idea,” She looked over to him and smirked.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any cold cases waiting for someone to crack them, would you?”
Nick laughed, the sound lightening Natasha’s mood.
“Even after saving the world, she’s still itching to jump back into the fray,” He mutters to himself.
“You know, you’ve got some PTO that’s dying to be cashed out,”
Now it was Natasha’s turn to laugh.
“With all due respect, these last five years have been my PTO, sans the P,”
“That’s not what Rogers told me,” Natasha looked up at him. He was glancing at her with his good eye, his eyebrow raised in knowing.
“He told me you took control of the Avengers, meeting with Danvers and company to discuss the state of the universe post-Snap. That, to me, does not sound like time off,”
Damn Steve and his big mouth. Natasha thinks indignantly to herself. She definitely didn’t see all the meetings and status reports as work. There were many days where the redhead was dying to get back out on the field. She found that the gym wasn't cutting it for her anymore.
“You know how I am, Nick. I can’t stay still for long. I need to be out in the field,”
“I know, I know. It’s not easy for you to relax and take time off. I get it,” Nick shot Natasha a knowing grin, and she rolled her eyes.
“But from the look of it, we’re not going to have any issues for the foreseeable future. A lot more agents returned from the blip than expected, Maria and I included. It’s going to take some time to catch up on what exactly we missed these past five years,”
He has a point. Natasha thought begrudgingly. It was going to take a while to get everything back up and running at SHIELD, and they were more than likely going to put any missions on hold. Perhaps she could offer up her services into retraining the returning agents? How many people can say they were able to train with the Black Widow? It may not be as good as getting her hands dirty in the field, but honestly, anything was better than nothing at this point.
“I know what you’re thinking, and no, we won’t be needing your assistance in retraining the returned agents,” Nick’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked over at him incredulously.
“It’s mostly going to be classroom retraining. Not much physical work,”
“Then what the hell am I gonna do, Nick?” The constant denial was making Natasha upset.
“Where the hell do I even go? I don’t have a home. I don’t have a family to return to. All I have is my damn car, and I am not planning on living out of it any time soon,”
“Relax, Romanoff. I have multiple safe houses you can stay in for as long as you’d like. And I’m sure someone would be willing to come with you,”
“Yeah? And who would possibly need a place to stay, out of everyone here? They all have someone or somewhere to return to,” Natasha huffed.
Nick glanced around the yard for a few seconds before his gaze settled a bit off to his left.
“I think I know someone who would take you up on an offer,”
Natasha looked over to where Nick was looking. Off in the distance, a lone figure was standing near the lake’s shore. Their hair glowed a soft auburn in the afternoon sunlight, and their oversized sweater fluttered gently in the breeze.
Wanda.
Natasha had honestly forgotten Wanda was even in attendance today. Admittedly, she was surprised to see the Sokovian had shown up. Wanda and Stark never really got along, so Natasha figured the witch would skip out on the funeral. Maybe she didn’t hate the billionaire as much as she thought?
“You really think she’d want to stay somewhere with me?”
“I think it would be best for her to be with someone for the foreseeable future. I’m sure she’s in a very vulnerable headspace right now,”
She couldn’t argue with that. She’s lost her family, her country, her lover…and here Natasha was complaining about living out of her car. Thinking about Wanda’s predicament really put things into perspective for Natasha.
Natasha continued to look out at the younger woman for a few moments, contemplating her options.
It wouldn’t hurt to ask if she wants company. The worst she can say is no…she doesn’t have anyone to turn to right now, and the least she deserves is a shoulder to cry on…
She looked up at Nick, who was watching her with an expectant look in his eye.
“This place better have good Wi-Fi,”
Nick’s smile grew wider.
“I’ll start looking,”
-----------------
While Nick searched for a suitable residence, Natasha walked down to the lake’s edge towards Wanda. She could see that the witch was standing stiff as a board and staring out across the water. She had her hands shoved into the pockets of her long cardigan with her thumbs twitching slightly against the outside of the soft fabric. Her hair was fluttering lightly in the gentle breeze, and Natasha was taken aback by how vivid the color actually was; it seemed like Wanda recently touched her hair up.
Her hair was a fiery copper, exactly like Natasha remembered when she last saw her five years ago. After the team-splitting fight in Germany, after Wanda was broken out of the Raft, Natasha advised her to dye her hair a different color to go incognito. She had expected the witch to go with either a blonde, like she had, or go with jet black. Needless to say, she was thoroughly taken aback to see that Wanda had dyed her hair similarly to Natasha's usual fiery red.
Natasha wasn’t sure if she should be offended by her choice, but hey, imitation is the highest form of flattery, right?
Stopping next to the redhead, Natasha stared out over the lake. The sun was now high in the sky, and the lack of clouds caused its rays to reflect harshly off the lake’s surface. She squinted her eyes and looked over to Wanda.
“Hey,”
Wanda didn’t respond right away; she glanced over at Natasha and held her gaze for a few seconds, her eyes bloodshot and slightly distant. She caught a glimpse of something else in her eyes, something painful and sad, but before Natasha could decipher it, Wanda turned her head back towards the water.
“Hi,”
Her voice was a bit rough, deeper than Natasha last remembered. She was pale, a bit gaunt, Natasha thought to herself, her cheekbones angling her face just the slightest bit more prominently, at least more so than the last time Natasha saw her. She was still just barely taller than Natasha, much to her dismay (she seriously hadn’t grown an inch the past five years??). However, something in the back of her mind found it a bit…endearing, to say the least.
“I’m surprised you showed up today; I know you and Tony weren’t on the best of terms,”
Wanda hummed.
“Yeah, but it would be pretty rude to be the only one to not show up,”
“That’s true,” Natasha responded a bit jovially before her mood became more somber.
“How’re you holding up?”
Wanda opened her mouth as if to answer, but she closed it after a second and sighed softly instead.
“Just barely, if I’m being honest,”
Natasha nodded in understanding. This past week had been a whirlwind of emotions for everyone, and she expected someone as emotionally sensitive as Wanda would be overwhelmed. This period of respite had to be a blessing to the younger girl.
“I hear you. I think I’ve cried more today than I have my entire life,” Natasha chuckled dryly to try to lighten the mood. The corner of Wanda’s mouth ticked upwards in the slightest of smiles; if Natasha wasn’t a master spy, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it.
“At this point, I’m too tired to cry,” Wanda shook her head.
“That’s all I’ve been doing the past few weeks…or, technically years, from your standpoint,”
Of course, Natasha thought. She’s been gone the past five years…I can only imagine the emotional whiplash she’s been experiencing. Her last memory of Wanda was on the battlefield in Wakanda:
Natasha was trapped in the earth by Thanos’ doing. In her peripheral, she noticed the young witch firing beams of energy at both the mad Titan and Vision. Before she could process what was going on, a bright light filled the sky along with an explosion of energy that shattered most of the rocks keeping Natasha trapped to the ground.
As Natasha chipped away at the rocks, an anguished shout emerged from the witch. Turning towards the noise, she noticed Wanda flying through the air, landing many feet away from Thanos. Both watched in horror as he gripped Vision by the neck and forcefully ripped the mind stone from his head. Vision stilled in his grip, and Thanos dropped his lifeless body like a discarded toy as he attached the stone to his gauntlet.
At that point, Natasha was seeing red. She managed to shove the remaining rocks away and ran to assist her teammates in preventing Thanos from snapping his fingers. As Natasha rushed over to help Thor, the Titan snapped his fingers, resulting in a bright flash of light and a strong pulse of cosmic energy. She watched in helpless dismay as her teammates, her family , dusted away one by one. When she turned back over to where Vision’s corpse lay, she noticed the last specks of ash floating softly in the breeze. Her stomach lurched as the gravity of the situation continued to settle in.
They had failed.
She had failed.
“Nat?”
Natasha snapped out of her memory and looked over at Wanda, who had asked her a question and was waiting patiently for an answer. Natasha felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Before she could mutter an apology, Wanda offered her a small smile and a slight shake of her head.
“Don’t feel guilty, Natasha; you did everything that you could to stop him, but he had the power of the universe in his hands. It was, unfortunately, a battle we could not win,”
A minuscule smirk appeared on Natasha’s face.
“You know, if I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, I’d be richer than Stark by now,”
Wanda snorted, and Natasha tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped at the sound.
“It was that bad?”
“You have no idea,” Natasha groaned at the memories of the remaining Avengers (mostly Steve) trying to lift her spirits by telling her that they did all they could to defeat Thanos, telling her that not all battles could be won. Natasha always thought that what they said was complete bullshit; this was one battle they couldn’t afford to lose. Half of the world’s population was gone, literally snapped away, and she was supposed to just brush the dirt off her knees and shrug it off? Absolutely not.
Recalling the memories of the crushing loss only fueled Natasha’s anger. One thing she couldn’t wrap her head around was Thanos’s plan: eliminate half of Earth’s living creatures to save resources? He didn’t even live on Earth; why should he care about what happens to its inhabitants??
“I understand you’re upset, Natasha, but there’s no point in dwelling on what happened. it’s all in the past now,”
Natasha whipped her head over towards the young witch; her eyes narrowed in angry suspicion.
“I thought you agreed to never enter our heads without our permission,”
Wanda visibly recoiled at the sudden harshness of Natasha’s voice before she wrapped her arms around herself and stared down at her feet.
“I didn’t; your anger is so overwhelming it’s almost impossible to ignore…I promised you all I would never violate you like that ever again,”
Natasha suddenly felt incredibly guilty for snapping at Wanda and accusing her of entering her head unprompted. She knew Wanda had struggled in the past with keeping her powers under control, and she sometimes slipped into someone’s mind whenever she was overwhelmed. But before she was dusted, Wanda had made significant improvements in keeping her powers under control. Natasha could see it in the way she fought in Wakanda. She had come a long way since that day in the shipyard.
“I’m sorry,” Natasha shook her head as she too looked down at her feet in shame.
“That was out of line,”
Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw Wanda shake her head as well.
“It’s alright; I shouldn’t be telling you how to feel after all that’s happened,”
The two remained silent as they watched the water lap up onto the shore softly, the waves barely big enough to even encroach the tiny mound of sand separating the grass from the body of water. Natasha hoped that Wanda couldn’t sense past the simmering rage of their failure and reach the inner turmoil she was currently suffering from. While she knew Wanda had impressive control of her powers, it would all be for naught if Natasha couldn’t keep her emotions in check. With all the noise swirling in her head, she was honestly impressed that the younger girl could stand so close without clutching her head in pain.
Besides, her trip to Vormir was at the forefront of her mind, and she really didn’t want Wanda to see that.
Sucking in a deep breath, she steeled herself for her next question.
“So…I’m taking a vacation…director’s orders,” She peered Wanda out of the corner of her eye, noting that the girl was still staring out across the water without a hint of a reaction to what Natasha just said.
“It’s gonna be somewhere quiet…somewhere I can get over Clint’s death,”
As soon as his name left her mouth, Wanda inhaled sharply.
Please tell me this isn’t the first time she’s hearing of his death. Natasha’s mind was racing with anxiety. She knew Clint was like a father figure to Wanda: he took her under his wing after Pietro died (he even named his youngest son after him), and he was there for her whenever she needed guidance on becoming a hero. He was the one who gave her the push she needed to become an Avenger, and he would often speak highly of her to Natasha, encouraging the spy to give the younger girl a chance.
This poor girl cannot catch a break.
Fortunately, a few seconds later, she exhaled gently, and she nodded.
“Right…you two were best of friends…I can only imagine the pain you are feeling right now,”
Natasha pulled her lips into a thin line.
“Yeah…it’s pretty rough,” She turned her head back out towards the water and closed her eyes, once again feeling the burn of tears forming behind her eyes.
“You know, I wish there was a way that I could let him know…that we won,” Natasha looked over at Wanda, smiling sadly.
“We did it,”
Wanda nodded her head softly in understanding as she looked off to the side like she was in thought.
“He knows,” She looked back at Natasha and nodded again, her own eyes beginning to fill with tears at her memory. She looked off into the distance again, this time with a more far-off look in her eyes.
“They both do,”
Natasha felt her heart clench in her chest as Wanda brought up her lost lover. The sincerity and sadness in her voice made Natasha wonder if the younger girl could actually feel the two lost souls around them.
Before she knew it, Natasha wrapped her arm around Wanda’s waist and pulled her gently towards her, Wanda reciprocating the embrace by wrapping her arm around Natasha’s shoulders. The two stood in their embrace in comfortable silence, taking in each other’s silent grief. For the first time in over five years, Natasha felt herself beginning to relax.
“So, back to my little vacation…I could use some company,” Natasha spoke up after a few more seconds of silence. She looked at Wanda, who returned her gaze with eyebrows raised.
“Would you like to tag along?”
Wanda stared at her for a few more seconds, making Natasha slowly start to fill with anxious regret. Right before she began to reassure her that she didn’t have to feel obligated to tag along, a small smile began to form on Wanda’s face.
“I’d love to,”
Upon hearing Wanda's response, Natasha copied her smile and, once again, for the first time in many years, she felt a bubble of happiness rise up inside her.
-----------------
Soon enough, Natasha found herself standing next to Steve, who was sitting comfortably on the worn wooden bench by the lakeshore. While Wanda eventually went off to say her goodbyes to the remaining funeral-goers, Natasha assisted Bruce with prepping their makeshift quantum tunnel for Steve to return the Infinity Stones to their proper timelines. When Steve didn’t return when he was supposed to, she attempted to calm Sam and Bucky from their panic (while admittedly trying to remain calm herself), and in her attempt to settle the two men, she noticed someone sitting off in the distance. After a few seconds, she started laughing and shaking her head.
Son of a bitch.
Natasha still couldn’t believe that the elderly man she was standing next to was Steve Rogers, the Captain America, his hair a thinning silver and his face full of soft wrinkles. She had to admit he looked pretty damn good for 105 years old.
“He’s heartbroken, you know,”
Steve looked behind him towards Bucky and Sam; while Sam was getting a feel for the vibranium shield that now belonged to him, Bucky watched on with a calm smile on his face, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He’ll be all right; Bucky never believed he’d be able to carry on the legacy. He knows Sam’s the one meant to take the title,”
“I’m not talking about the shield,”
Steve looked up towards Natasha’s knowing glare and held her gaze for a few seconds before sighing softly and looking back out towards the water.
“It wouldn’t have worked out,”
“You don’t know that,” Natasha responded immediately.
“The bond you two have is stronger than that vibranium shield you carried. You almost died for him in D.C. You broke the team up to keep him out of prison,”
“The Accords broke the team up,”
“Yet you went against them to save his ass,” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him when his gaze hardened at her words.
“Why are you getting so defensive over this? Do you not love him anymore?”
Steve’s gaze softened at her words, his eyes showing the slightest bit of pain.
“Of course I love him, I just…” he sighed and slumped in his seat.
“…I don’t quite know how I love him,”
Natasha’s gaze softened in sad understanding. Here this man was, frozen in time for seventy years and thrown into an era with vastly different norms than he was accustomed to. And while he was able to catch up on the culture and societal norms of the latter half of the 20th century and early 21st century, he still struggled to figure out his sexual identity. He was living in a world where he wouldn’t have to hide any part of himself. But with Steve, old habits die hard. He was a man of war, of a time where men were expected to start a family with a beautiful wife and children, where homosexuality was analogous to pedophilia.
Steve had always been open with Natasha regarding his sexuality. While he always had eyes for women, he couldn’t deny the weird butterflies in his stomach whenever certain men gave him attention, more specifically Bucky. He knew his friend only loved him like a brother, so when a romance began to blossom between him and Peggy Carter, he was able to focus all his attention on her and push his unrequited feelings for his best friend deep down into his subconscious.
However, what Steve didn’t know was that Bucky did indeed harbor some…foreign feelings for his best friend, especially once Steve rescued him from the Hydra base in Italy. He found it hard to believe that this colossal, robust man was once his sickly friend. That day, Bucky’s infatuation increased tenfold, and there was no denying that he was indeed falling hard for the super-soldier.
Of course, things went horribly wrong: Bucky fell off the train and was presumed dead when in reality, he was being sculpted into Hydra’s perfect weapon; Steve went under the ice but was recovered 70 years later, still alive and kicking. Fate seemed to bring them back together, but doubt kept them from getting together.
Despite her disappointment, she still held some sympathy for the weary hero.
“I saw her, you know,” Steve’s voice brought Natasha’s attention back to him.
“Peggy…when Tony and I were on our second attempt at obtaining the space stone…she walked into her office. I was so close to just rushing in there and revealing I was alive, but the ring on her finger stopped me,” His tired eyes started to glaze over with unshed tears.
“Once the battle was over and Bucky returned to us, I was fully prepared to fully commit to a relationship with him. But as I was returning the stones, I thought, what if?” He swiped a finger under his eye to wipe away a tear that began to fall.
Natasha watched him for a few seconds before her lips pulled tight into a frown.
“Do you regret it?”
“Of course not,” Steve smiled sadly at her.
“At the end of the day, I don’t regret a single thing. We lived a long, happy life together,” Natasha caught his smile falter a little bit.
“I love Peggy; I’ve loved her since I first laid eyes on her. That wasn’t just a front to hide my true feelings,”
“But…?”
Steve looked down in shame.
“…But I often found myself thinking about Bucky. There were days where I nearly convinced myself I had made the wrong decision,” He looked back up at her, the wrinkles on his face seeming more prominent in his current stressful state.
“Sounds like it’s damned if you do, damned if you don’t,”
He nodded, looking back out towards the lake.
“That’s exactly it,”
The two remained silent as the sounds of Bucky and Sam messing around with the shield echoed across the landscape. Bucky was showing no outward signs of disappointment or defeat, but she knew deep down he was struggling to accept that he would never be the subject of Steve’s affections.
“He’ll rebound,” Natasha started, looking down at Steve.
“He’ll struggle with coming to terms with it for a while, but he’ll find his special someone in time,”
“Yeah, he will,” Steve turned back around and watched the two men in the distance.
“I know he’s genuinely happy for me and holds nothing against me. He was joking with me about how he never got a wedding invite,” Steve chuckled to himself while Natasha let out an amused hum.
“And what about you? Anyone special caught your eye?”
“Oh God no,” Natasha shook her head vehemently, but she grinned nonetheless.
“Come on. You’re telling me, after all this time, you’ve never had your eye on someone?”
“Not sure where you’ve been, old man, but I’ve spent the last five years keeping the team together,” She looked over at Steve and raised an eyebrow.
“You starting to lose your memory?”
This time Steve let out a hearty laugh, the sound surprisingly comforting to Natasha.
“Touché, Black Widow; Touché,” He twisted the silver wedding band around his finger.
“What are you planning on doing now?”
“I’m taking a little vacation. Gotta clear my mind after…everything,” She refrained from bringing Clint’s name up, but Steve seemed to understand what she meant. He nodded in sad understanding.
“By yourself?”
“Wanda’s tagging along,”
Natasha watched as a sly smile spread across his face.
“As a friend, or…?
“Oh, for God’s sake, you old geezer,” Natasha scoffed as she rolled her eyes and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Steve began to laugh again.
“She’s tagging along as a friend. She’s lost a lot too, you know,”
“Of course, of course,” Steve’s laughter calmed down.
“I’m sure you two will heal together, be each other’s shoulder to cry on, maybe even…hold each other in a tight embrace?”
Steve began to laugh again as Natasha smacked him again, this time a little harder.
“I’m not afraid to hit an old man. Where the hell is all this even coming from?”
Steve wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you couldn’t feel the romantic tension between the two of you before,”
“There has been zero romantic tension between Wanda and me,”
“No? Because that’s not what I saw when you two began hanging out outside of training sessions,”
“You mean when I finally began to trust her after she dug up my traumatic past by invading my brain? Yeah, I was positively swooning,” Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Here I was hoping Peggy would teach you a thing or two about romance,”
Steve gasped in mock offense.
“I’ll have you know Peggy was an excellent romantic. She kept me on my toes for over seventy years!”
“Yeah, I’m sure she did,” Natasha laughed turned towards Steve.
“I should get going, Wanda and I still need to pack, and I need to get the location from Nick,”
With a sad smile, Steve grunted as he began to stand up slowly. Natasha hurried to grab his arm to assist him, but he immediately waved his hand around.
“Oh, none of that. I’m not that old. I’ve still got some mileage left in me,”
“Of course. What was I thinking?” She quipped with a smirk. As the two stood face to face, Natasha gave him a sad smile and hugged him tightly. Steve returned the embrace with earnest, and the two friends remained there for a good moment.
“Take care of yourself, Steve. And thank you for everything,” Natasha’s eyes began to tears, and this time she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“Likewise, Natasha. It’s been an honor fighting by your side the past 11 years,” He rubbed her back gently for a few seconds before patting it lightly, signaling the end of the embrace. The two looked at each other with sad smiles and watery eyes.
“Give Wanda my regards,”
“Will do,” Natasha smiled before turning on her heel and walking back towards the cabin.
“Nat!”
Natasha stopped and turned around. Steve fought off a smirk as he began to speak.
“Does this place only have one bed?”
“Fuck you, Steve,”
-----------------
Natasha found Nick standing by her car at the front of the house with his tablet in hand. When he heard her approach, he handed the device to her.
“There’s a cabin out near Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Hasn’t been used since 2018. Two bedrooms and bathrooms, 10 acres of land, hidden in the woods with a gated 500-foot driveway. This is as private as private gets,” Natasha looked over the pictures of the cabin and nodded when she handed the tablet back to Nick.
“It’s perfect. Send me the coordinates,”
Nick nodded as he began to type.
“You traveling alone?”
Natasha shook her head.
“No, Wanda’s coming with me,”
Nick raised his eyebrows.
“You got her to tag along?”
“Yeah, she seeped appreciative of the invitation,”
“Good,” He finished up his typing and slid the tablet back into his coat pocket.
“I assume you two have to pack?”
“Whatever we have left at the compound, yeah,”
“Then I won’t keep you two,” Nick looked to his right, where he saw Wanda approaching with her hands clasped together in front of her and her gaze set on the ground near her feet. He looked back at Natasha and stuck his hand out.
“Best of luck to you, agent Romanoff,”
“Thanks, Nick, but call me Natasha. I’m not going on a mission, and I won’t be anytime soon,” She shook his hand and gave him a knowing look. Nick returned her look with a dry chuckle.
“If you need us, you know where to find us,” He walked off towards the back of the house, giving Wanda a terse nod and a few parting words, before returning to Maria.
When Wanda stopped in front of her, Natasha noticed her eyes were a lot clearer than they were earlier. Her hands were still clasped tightly together in front of her, the sleeves of her sweater bunching up near her fingertips.
“You ready?” Natasha asked, holding up her keys.
Wanda nodded.
“Yeah,” She smiled softly.
“I’m ready,”
-----------------
The drive back to the compound takes about an hour. Natasha’s sleek Corvette winds smoothly down the twisted forest roads, the sunlight peeking in from the very top of her windshield. Were it not for her sunglasses, Natasha is sure she’d go blind.
Every so often, Natasha finds herself glancing over at Wanda. The young witch had curled up in the passenger seat with her knees tucked up towards her chin and her body slightly angled towards the window. Her chin was resting in the palm of her hand as she stared out the window, the light occasionally reflecting a sullen expression from the younger girl.
Natasha drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. Usually, she was grateful for the silence these kinds of drives brought, but driving with a brooding passenger just made things uncomfortable and awkward (not that Natasha would ever admit that out loud). After about 40 minutes of driving in almost agonizing silence, Natasha turned on the radio. The station was primarily static, with occasional bursts of some form of country-rock. Natasha sighed; this station was rock back at the compound, but apparently, the signal wasn’t strong enough to carry out this far. Not wanting to fiddle with the controls and search for a suitable station, she kept the volume low and focused on the road.
“Is this ok?” Natasha asked softly, glancing over at Wanda briefly. The younger girl was still in the same spot, and Natasha caught her turning her head slightly and just barely nodding.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Her voice was quiet and low, and Natasha struggled to hear it even with the soft noises coming from the radio. She briefly wondered if Wanda was on the verge of falling asleep and she had woken her up.
“Good,” She looked back out towards the road in front of her.
“If you want to listen to anything in particular, just let me know,”
Wanda hummed lowly and continued to stare out the window.
They spent the remainder of the drive in silence, arriving at the remains of the compound 20 minutes later. While Thanos’ attack wiped out the testing labs and quinjet hangars, the main living quarters remained standing, the only significant damage being some portions of the roof torn off and multiple blown-out windows. Throughout the week, the remaining Avengers returned to retrieve what they could before it closed for repairs.
After passing through the security gate, Natasha drove slowly towards the compound’s living quarters, passing towering piles of rubble and construction equipment hard at work clearing the site. It was a vast improvement from the last time Natasha was here, barely a day after the attack. She was disheartened to see the compound in this state; it was always Tony’s pride and joy, well-hidden in the hills of upstate New York and completely state-of-the-art, from its high-tech equipment to being completely eco-friendly.
Natasha looked over to Wanda as they approached the living quarters. She was more alert now, her head leaning back to stare at the passing rubble. As they pulled up to the living quarters, Wanda faced the front of the car and let out a shaky exhale.
This might be her first time seeing everything. Natasha thought somberly. She never saw the witch when she was here earlier in the week, and Natasha highly doubted she had returned since then.
“Come on,” Natasha said as she turned off her car’s ignition and opened the door.
“Let’s grab what we need and head on out; I don’t want to spend too much time here,”
Wordlessly, Wanda nodded and stepped out of the car, falling in step next to the Russian as they went to pack up what remained of their lives at the former compound.
The building’s living quarters were dark; the electricity was knocked out during the attack and never restored. The building was warm: it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was enough for Wanda to shed her light sweater. A thin layer of dust settled on every surface in the building, and Natasha felt her nose begin to tickle as the two caused the dust to swirl in the air. She knew if Tony were still here, he’d be throwing a fit over the cleanliness of the place, despite the building being currently uninhabitable.
Their rooms were on the fourth floor of the building, just down the hall from each other. The rooms were decently sized with queen beds, a private en suite bathroom, and plenty of floor space. When Natasha opened the door to her room, she was overcome with a sense of melancholy as she took in the sight before her. Her room was the same as she left it the day the team completed the time heist: her bed was hastily made with the black sheets still wrinkled and the pillows askew. A few of her drawers were open, with a few articles of clothing hanging over the edge. The picture frames on her desk were coated in a thin layer of dust, and a book was lying face down on her dresser, only a few pages away from being finished.
One would say her room was very tidy. To Natasha, her room had never been messier. She was very meticulous in maintaining the cleanliness of her room. She always made her bed as soon as she woke up in the morning, her clothes were organized and folded neatly in her drawers, and she never left anything lying on the floor. Even after long, demanding missions that left her battered, bleeding, and exhausted, she always managed to place all her weapons in their appropriate places and make sure her uniform was hung up to be cleaned at a later date.
She rebuffed most of the things the Red Room taught her; organizational skills were not one of them.
Natasha grabbed a large duffel bag from her closet and began packing up everything she needed. She wasn’t going to bring much, only light clothes and exercise gear. Anything heavy would be bought there, primarily to save up space and because she’s never really worn much winter clothing. She thanked whatever god was out there for still having some sturdy Russian blood flowing through her veins.
She grabbed her essentials from her bathroom (including her expensive shampoo; she was NOT about to let that go to waste) and returned to her room to pack any remaining items she felt were necessary. Rummaging through her nightstand drawer for any loose weapons, she came across a large red book.
She froze.
It was a photo album, one she had started compiling in her earlier days in SHIELD. Fury handed her a small stack of photos one day, not long after the Battle of New York. Natasha had looked up at him with a mild look of annoyance and asked what in the ever-living fuck she was supposed to do with these. Fury just laughed.
“You’ll figure it out,” he told her.
She had planned to throw them out in the trash. What would happen if an enemy were to get their hands on these photos? Then her identity and the identities of her Avengers teammates and many ingenuous SHIELD agents would be in jeopardy. But before she could chuck them into the bin, she had second thoughts. What if anyone needed to use these photos as evidence? That reason was viable enough, Natasha thought.
Almost as soon as she thought it, Natasha realized how farfetched that notion was. The photos themselves weren’t even questionable: one was of Tony and Bruce working together in the Helicarrier, both too engrossed in their work to notice anyone taking their picture. Another was a picture of Steve speaking with a few National Guard members in the aftermath of the battle of New York, with numerous spectators in the background gathering around to get a closer look at the star-spangled hero.
Flipping through the pages of the album, Natasha smiled softly as the memories from each photo filled her mind. A few with Sam, both with comical expressions twisted onto their faces. Sam was the one who insisted on taking them, and in the first few photos, Natasha only had a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. It was only after a game night with the team where the two were paired together for a game of charades that Natasha began to make her own funny faces in the photos. Sam’s pitiful attempt at acting out a sea lion still had Natasha laughing to herself to this very day.
A couple of photos were with Tony, but most of them had him busy tinkering away at his workstation, his hand up in a few of them to get Natasha out of his way. One of them caught her eye, taken before one of Tony’s infamous parties; Tony dressed to the nines, his face clean-shaven and holding a glass of what Natasha assumed to be whiskey. He had a smug look on his face as he posed for the camera.
Most of them showcased their lives in before the events that changed their entire family dynamic, in moments of calm, where the world wasn’t in danger, and everyone was free to relax and take it easy. Natasha continued to flip the pages and stopped at a photo of herself and Wanda. At that point, Wanda had been living in the complex for a while. She was still quiet and reserved around the rest of the team. To better connect with her, Natasha would show her around the city, especially whenever she was feeling down. The day the photo was taken, Natasha had taken her to Central Park. While Natasha had a bright smile on her face, Wanda sullenly stared back at the camera with only the faintest hint of a smile playing on her face. Natasha remembered back then that that was the happiest she had ever seen the younger girl.
Wonder if she still remembers this day.
When she turned the page again, she paused. Her breath hitched as she stared at its contents in a daze.
It was a ticket stub for Swan Lake, performed for one night only by the Mariinsky Ballet Company at the Koch Theater. Next to it was a photo of her and Clint, smiling at the grand entrance to the theater. Natasha had so desperately wanted to see the show, but tickets had sold out just minutes after they went on sale. Dejected, she went to take out her frustrations in the gym but was stopped dead in her tracks when Clint approached her and held up his phone, confirming two tickets to the show. Natasha vehemently denied it back then, but she didn’t hesitate to let out a squeal of joy.
“I didn’t even think you were capable of making a sound like that,”
Natasha slapped his shoulder as he laughed, but a smirk managed to creep up on her face.
“Shut it, Barton. You tell anyone I made that noise, and I’ll shove all your arrows up your ass,”
Clint held up his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay…but for the record, I don’t think anyone would believe me even if I had video proof,”
Natasha smiled as the two walked further away from the theater. It was a chilly mid-November night, with autumn already in full swing. The leaves were at their peak foliage and would begin to fall in the coming weeks. The Koch theater was brightly illuminated that night, with posters promoting Swan Lake plastered on every visible window. An exodus of people poured out of the theater, with the out-of-state folks dressed in multiple layers, clearly not used to the pleasant chill in the air. Natasha and Clint turned a corner, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of enlivened theater-goers in their return to Stark Tower.
“I owe you, Clint. Seriously,”
“Nat, for the last time: you don’t owe me anything. Consider this an early Christmas present from me,”
Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him.
“If I do, will you promise not to get me anything else for Christmas?”
Clint was momentarily silent as he struggled to hold in a smile.
“I’ll take that as a no,”
“You don’t know what I could even get you! It could be a book on how to be more sociable, for all you know!”
“Yeah, but you know better than to get me something like that,”
“Tony would,”
Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Tony’s an asshole who’s asking to get his ass beat whenever he opens his damn mouth. Besides, he always gives me vodka for the holidays. Oh, and that modded Desert Eagle for my birthday this year,”
Clint hummed.
“Sounds like I’ll have to one-up him this year,”
“No, Clint. Seriously. What you did tonight was above and beyond. You don’t need to do anything else for me for, like, the rest of my life,”
Clint stopped in his tracks. Natasha looked back at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. They were only a few blocks away from the tower, and the normally bustling street was unusually silent for that time of night.
“Look, I know you’re not one for material possessions, and I understand and respect that completely. But I see how your face light up whenever Tony gifts you with that expensive vodka, even when you complain about receiving it again,”
Natasha bit the inside of her lip as she fought a smile. She had no idea that Clint saw her genuine reaction upon receiving Tony’s gifts. Then again, she wasn’t too surprised; he was one of SHIELD’s top agents, after all.
“You deserve to be happy, Natasha. You’ve got a lot of years to make up for,” He smiled and nudged her shoulder.
“I, for one, enjoy seeing you smile. It’s a nice change from all the scowling,”
Natasha opened her mouth in faux shock.
“I don’t scowl that much!”
“I think the whole team begs to differ,” He laughed heartily.
“But seriously, you’re the only person I know who would turn down a gift. Just…let me continue to see you happy. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you smile,”
Natasha felt her heart thud in her chest at his words. She studied his face, noticing how age created the slightest crow’s feet next to his eyes. She’d seen Clint try to lie his way out of multiple situations before. But at that moment, Natasha saw nothing but the truth. A soft warmth began to blossom outwards from her chest, and she smiled as she sighed softly.
“Alright, Barton. You win. No more complaining from me,”
Clint hissed out a ‘yessss!’ accompanied with a fist pump, and Natasha rolled her eyes as she continued walking.
“You are such a child, I swear,”
“Oh! Speaking of children, come and spend Christmas with us! We could use an extra set of hands around the house; the baby’s really doing a number on Laura’s back so she can’t remain standing for long,” Clint excitedly huffed out as he caught up to Natasha.
“Little Natasha’s already putting up a fight, eh?” Natasha grinned smugly.
“Sounds like she’s starting to take after her auntie Nat,”
It was Clint’s turn to roll his eyes as Natasha feigned deliberation.
“Sure, why not? I haven’t seen the other two rascals in a while anyway,”
“Great. The kids have been talking about going caroling this year and-”
“You know damn well I am not going caroling,”
“I know, I know! I was getting there,” Clint laughed.
“I was planning on taking them while you and Laura can spend some quality time together. She keeps complaining about needing to speak with someone with more than two functioning brain cells,”
“Now that sounds like a plan,” Natasha laughed as the two turned the final corner, Stark Tower finally coming into view.
“They were also talking about a snowball fight,”
“Oh, I am so on board for that,”
The two continued to laugh as they made their way back to the tower, the gentle breeze carrying their jovial banter into the clear night sky.
The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped Natasha out of her reverie. Turning her head and looking towards her door, she saw Wanda standing in the entryway, lugging a suitcase behind her with a bag flung over her shoulder. She had changed out of her funeral attire and was now wearing a burgundy shirt with black jeans and ankle-high boots. An oversized light gray cardigan covered most of her outfit, with the sleeves once again bunched up in her hands.
Natasha’s eyes widened, utterly enthralled by the younger girl’s attire.
“I’m ready whenever you are,”
Still taking in Wanda’s presence and suddenly realizing she had just said something, she cleared her throat and looked back at the album in her hands.
“Yeah…uh yeah that’s-great, that’s great,” She stuttered. As soon as the words left her mouth, she slapped herself mentally.
God damnit, Natasha; get a hold of yourself, for fuck’s sake! What the hell was that??
“I…give me a minute. I still need to change. Then I’ll be all set, alright?”
Looking back at Wanda, Natasha could’ve sworn she caught the faint traces of a blush fading away from the witch’s cheeks, but before she could comment on it, Wanda nodded.
“Okay. Uh, I’ll be waiting in the living room,”
Wanda hurried off without another word, and Natasha blinked at her sudden departure. Did Wanda notice how flustered she was? Natasha hoped that wasn’t the case; the last thing the Russian wanted was for both of them to feel awkward during their trip. But Natasha just couldn’t help how naturally stunning she found the red-headed Sokovian.
She took one last look at the photo album and stared at the ticket stub and photo, her eyes beginning to blur with unshed tears.
“Damn it,” She muttered, hastily wiping the tears away before they could fall onto the pages. She knew the healing process would be arduous, but she didn’t want to become consumed in her grief. At least, not right now, right before an hours-long road trip with another passenger. Especially one that was sensitive to the emotions of those around her. Wanda was already vulnerable as is, and she definitely didn’t need the weight of Natasha’s angst piled on top of her own. No, Natasha would grieve on her own time, in the privacy of her room at the cabin. She was still uncomfortable sharing her grief with others, as she had been trained to remain strong and to never show emotion, especially negative ones.
Closing the album, Natasha stood up and exhaled heavily before packing the album away securely in her bag. As she grabbed an outfit to change into, she thought back to that Christmas years ago where she ended up singing a carol or two with Clint’s kids.
-----------------
The two left once Natasha made her way out into the living room, their slightly awkward encounter they had earlier seemingly forgotten. Wanda had packed a lot lighter than Natasha expected; she only brought a small suitcase with her and nothing else. Natasha found herself wondering what Wanda could possibly be carrying with her to warrant such light packing; that girl always wore multiple layers and owned at least 10 different kinds of sweaters. But Natasha decided not to ponder the younger girl’s packing habits; That was none of her business.
The two had been driving for a few hours now, currently traveling through northern Pennsylvania. The scenery was nothing to write home about, with small former mining towns and rolling green hills making up most of the surrounding landscape. Natasha’s Corvette sped down the nearly barren two-lane highway towards their destination, passing any slower traffic whenever she was able to do so. The sun slowly began its descent towards the horizon, its blinding rays beginning to peek directly into the car. While the tint helped lessen their intensity, Natasha still had to lower the sunshade to accurately see the road ahead of her. The radio was back on, now playing this year’s pop hits, the melody just barely audible under the muffled roar of the engine.
Natasha occasionally took her eyes off the road for a quick second to glance at the younger girl sitting next to her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable. She was leaning towards the window with her knees slightly curled up to her chest. Wanda had her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, making it appear like the young witch was trying to warm herself up. She sat in that position for the majority of their drive, barely even shifting even slightly. Natasha was beginning to wonder if Wanda was starting to stiffen up in that position.
“Are you cold?” Natasha asked, briefly turning her head towards Wanda. Said redhead peeked her head towards Natasha and shook her head.
“No, I’m fine,”
“Okay,” Natasha turned her attention towards the road again.
“If you need to change the temperature, feel free to do so,”
Wanda turned back towards the window.
“Thanks,” Her voice was as quiet as it was earlier on their drive to the compound. Natasha began to wonder if Wanda genuinely wanted to come along with her or if she was doing it to be polite. The last thing she wanted to do was make the young witch uncomfortable. But before Natasha could ask her if she was alright with tagging along, Wanda abruptly spoke out.
“Can we stop off somewhere?”
Her increase in volume was so sudden, Natasha felt herself recoil a bit in shock. Wanda was looking over at her again, this time with wide, pleading eyes. Turning towards the younger girl, Natasha noticed a folded piece of paper in one hand and her phone in the other, a map with directions pulled up on the screen.
Curious, Natasha nodded.
“Yeah, sure…where do you want to go?”
“I’ll tell you where to go; just keep going straight,” There was a finality in Wanda’s tone that made Natasha clamp her mouth shut and grip the steering wheel a bit tighter. She hoped she hadn’t offended Wanda with her question. It was clear that wherever she wanted to go, it was an important destination.
The two continued down the highway in silence before it was interrupted by Natasha’s GPS. The robotic feminine voice instructed her to make an upcoming exit. As she began to merge into the lane, Wanda spoke up.
“No, not here. Keep going,”
Humming out an agreement, Natasha turned off her GPS and continued down the road, eventually passing their primary exit. Natasha waited for Wanda’s subsequent command, but the witch remained silent, remaining in her curled-up position while staring at her phone. Every few minutes, she would look up at the approaching overhead signs as if she were hopeful her destination would be among those listed. However, she was quick to lower her head when she wasn’t satisfied with what she saw.
This continued for the next two hours, and Natasha was just about ready to explode with built-up impatience. She was used to waiting for long periods whenever she was on a mission, but at least the action came with the thrill of anticipating her target's next move. Here, she was stuck sitting in a car for over four hours while driving to an unknown destination. Of course, not helping her situation was a passenger who didn't seem interested in holding a conversation. At this point, Natasha was ready to start blasting the radio to relieve herself of this near-stifling silence.
Just as Natasha was about to politely (but firmly) request to pull over for a quick stretch, Wanda sat up, intently focused on the road ahead of her.
“Here. This exit coming up,”
Natasha barely held back a sigh of relief. She adjusted herself in her seat (her car seats were comfortable but not for long drives, Natasha quickly discovered two hours back) and prepared to take the exit. She took quick notice of the sign as she merged off the highway.
Westview.
Natasha had never heard of the place. What could Wanda so desperately need out here? A friend? A specific store? Her deep-seated desire to make a detour towards this unknown town left the assassin stumped. Was it dangerous? No, Wanda wouldn’t possibly lead them somewhere dodgy, would she?
The road quickly became more uneven, the surrounding landscape a bit more barren. Wanda was leaning forward in her seat, and Natasha unconsciously found herself doing the same. She was eager (and admittedly a bit anxious) about what their destination held in store for them. Judging by the name itself, it didn’t sound like it would harbor anything dangerous.
Minutes later, a worn wooden sign came into view. The words, albeit enlarged, were a bit too faded to read clearly from a distance. Only when they were right next to the sign was Natasha able to make out what it said:
Welcome to Westview
Home: It’s Where You Make It
Natasha heard a sharp breath to her right as they drove past the sign and into the town. Was this not what she was expecting?
The two drove past a few old homes, their wood paneling amassing a considerable amount of dirt and discoloration to the point that they almost looked abandoned. If not for the vehicles parked out front, then Natasha would have assumed just that.
In just a few minutes, they were in the town square, and Natasha found herself pleasantly surprised with what she saw. It was almost a perfect mix of tradition and modernity, like a town stuck in the 1950s with an aught twist. The library was massive, with towering marble pillars reminiscent of ancient Rome. There was a rustic diner, an expansive department store, an old-timey, eight-room cinema…Natasha felt an oddly calming wave of nostalgia rushing through her veins. It felt like, had she been an ordinary civilian living an average life, she would be living in a place like this, working a typical nine-to-five job, and maybe even starting a family of her own…
“Turn left here,”
Wanda’s command suddenly snapped Natasha out of her sightseeing, and she quickly turned the wheel to the left, a bit more forcefully than she would have liked. She muttered out a quick ‘sorry’ as she continued down the road. Many of the town’s residents were out and about, enjoying some leisure time after the busy workday, and many paused to gawk at Natasha’s sleek black Corvette driving slowly past. It must have been a sight to see: an expensive sports car that most likely everyone in this town could only dream of owning. They probably wondered who this mysterious person was and what they did to inherit such an impressive machine.
The town center gradually gave way into a residential neighborhood. There was a significant improvement in the houses here than those at the beginning of town, with well-constructed two-story homes, lush, trim landscaping, and shiny sedans parked in the driveway. Natasha admired what she saw when Wanda’s voice startled her.
“Stop!” The car suddenly jerked to a stop as Natasha pressed down on the brake a little too hard. She looked over at Wanda and was about to chastise her for startling her again, but she paused when she noticed the redhead staring out her window at a vacant lot.
“Pull in here,” Her voice was quiet and shaky, and Natasha grew concerned for the girl beside her. However, she didn’t question anything, and she turned her car onto the unpaved driveway. As soon as she put the car in park, Wanda opened her door.
“Wait here; I’ll be right back,” Before Natasha could reply, Wanda slammed the door shut and hurried around the car to the front of the lot.
She watched as Wanda paused right at the beginning of the plot of dirt. She glanced around the area (Natasha wasn’t sure if she was looking for something specific; there was only a tiny concrete barrier outlining the plot of land and a few construction materials) before slowly walking towards the middle of the lot. Wanda glanced around a bit more before unfolding the piece of paper from earlier and peering down at it. Natasha obviously couldn’t see it in detail from her car, and she wondered what the documentation entailed.
A letter from a family member? A friend? A ransom letter? A treasure map?
Natasha knew those last two were pretty farfetched and outlandish. But given the shit she’s seen these past years, she knew anything was possible.
Focusing her attention back at Wanda, she was startled when she noticed the redhead outside sink to her knees and hunch over, her hands close to her chest as if she were in pain.
Ignoring Wanda’s request, she quickly unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door.
“Wanda?” She called out, her voice a bit higher in pitch in her anxiousness. When Wanda didn’t respond, she made her way over to the younger girl. When she got close enough, she could hear Wanda’s choked breathing and saw her shoulders shake with repressed sobs.
“Wanda…? Are you okay? What’s-” Before she could even finish her sentence, faint red wisps began to flicker around Wanda’s body, growing more intense as she gradually lost her composure. The red wisps turned into violent scarlet sparks, and the air rippled around her, pulsing and buzzing with a fierce intensity. A few of the waves hit Natasha, and while she wasn’t hurt, she felt an intense wave of desolation flood her mind.
Without much thought for her own safety and with an overwhelming concern for her friend, Natasha raced towards Wanda and fell to her knees beside her, embracing her in a tight hug right as she let out a heart-wrenching scream. The scarlet energy surrounding her exploded outward in a vicious pulse, the air around them distorted and colored a vibrant ruby red. Natasha’s head began to swim, but she kept her iron grip on the hysterical girl in her arms, holding her head to her chest and running her hands through light auburn locks.
“Hey, hey…it’s okay, Wanda, just breathe…you’re going to be alright,” Natasha wasn’t even sure what she was comforting Wanda for, but whatever it was caused the girl to have a breakdown, and that was a good enough reason to console her. The closest she had ever seen the witch in this state was during her first birthday after her brother’s death. Wanda, celebrating her first birthday without her twin, never left her room the entire day. The team tried to cheer her up outside her bedroom door, but the efforts were in vain. When Natasha walked by later in the day, she heard Wanda violently sobbing, the heart-wrenching sound muffled by the door, and what Natasha assumed to be her face pressed into a pillow.
Natasha thought she would never hear anything as distressing as she did that day, yet here was Wanda herself suffering like Natasha had ever seen.
The scarlet magic was still swirling around them like a violent storm. It eventually got to a point where Natasha could barely keep her eyes open without her vision swimming. Despite that, she gripped Wanda tighter in her arms and rested her cheek on the top of her head.
“I’m right here, Wanda. You’re safe with me,” Natasha had to raise her voice to be heard over the humming energy and Wanda’s cries. She hoped Wanda couldn’t hear the wavering in her voice from her mind going fuzzy. Right as she thought she was going to pass out, the energy slowly began to die down. The air around them slowly returned to its natural calm state and the intense dizziness dissipated from Natasha’s head. Wanda was calming down, her anguished screams dying down into a pained whimper. She remained stiff as a board against Natasha, her body shaking from the excess energy still surging through her veins.
“I’ve got you,” Natasha whispered to her, her own body trembling slightly from the intensity of Wanda’s volatile magic.
“Everything’s going to be okay,”
With those words, Wanda looked up at Natasha, the last of the red energy dissipating from her pupils, and immediately collapsed back into her chest and started sobbing. Natasha adjusted her position on the ground and pulled the forlorn girl into her lap.
“Shhhh…it’s okay. Let it all out, Wanda,” Natasha continued to whisper calming reassurances into Wanda’s ear. Meanwhile, one hand ran through wavy strands of hair while the other rubbed her back in small, soft circles, causing Wanda to bury her face into Natasha’s neck as she continued to sob. During her ministrations, Natasha noticed the folded sheet of paper, untouched from Wanda’s magical outburst, by her feet. Picking it up and unfolding it, Natasha read it quietly to herself before gasping softly.
It was a deed, one that Natasha realized was to the plot of land where they were sitting. In the middle of the document, right below the outline for the property, was a red heart with four words and a letter inside of it:
TO GROW OLD IN
V.
“Oh, Wanda,” Natasha choked out, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She tried to offer her condolences, but the words got caught in her throat. Instead, Natasha just shook her head and held the girl tighter to her, and let her tears fall quietly. She felt the younger girl tighten her grip around her in response, and the two sat there, in the middle of the empty lot, crying for a future that never came to be.