Work Text:
in another life
i would make you stay
so i don’t have to say you were
the one that got away
— katy perry
//
“In order to get to the stone, you must lose that what you love.”
Natasha remembered finding Red Skull’s words so amusing, up in the cold, windy cliffs of Vormir.
He had said it like a thinly-veiled threat, unaware that Natasha was intrinsically familiar with losing things she loved. Like she hadn’t been mourning those losses at every turn in her life — the Red Room, Ohio, S.H.I.E.L.D, the Avengers.
Like all those losses hadn’t been made ten times worse over the last five years.
Every aspect of her life had involved way more damage and destruction than any life should ever have, and yet, none of it had prepared her for what it had felt like to lose the battle of Wakanda. Watching those she loved vanish to dust right before her very eyes, a vacant look on their faces, and the pain left behind in the expressions of those who had remained.
It was cruel.
Natasha would do anything to remedy that.
Including jumping off that damn cliff, so Clint could go back with the Soul Stone in his hands.
The ultimate sacrifice felt like nothing compared to what, to whom they would get back to when they completed their mission — Clint’s family, her own family, Bucky, Fury, Wanda… They would all get a chance to come back and keep going. Her life seemed like a fair trade for all those who would have another opportunity to enjoy theirs.
She had spent her entire life sacrificing herself, so others could go and live theirs, and it was oddly poetic that she would get to do that for one last, final time.
The Universe, Natasha had found, always had a knack for sadistic irony when it came to her.
//
Dying was peaceful.
She had never assumed it would be, given how hard she had spent her entire life fighting against it.
But after struggling with Clint over who would jump, and finally managing to do it, Natasha found herself gracefully falling, a strange sense of calm washing over her and numbing her feelings before she made contact with the ground.
It almost felt like lying in bed after a really long, hard day.
A very thin, uncomfortable hospital bed.
Wait, what?
Natasha blinked her eyes open, but instead of facing the starry nothingness of Vormir, she found herself staring at a dimly lit hospital ceiling. Her whole body ached something terrible, and when she tried to take a deep breath, she found her airway blocked by a breathing tube.
“Natasha?”
All of a sudden, Natasha found herself staring at Wanda’s wide green eyes as she bent over the bed, ringed fingers tentatively touching Natasha’s face.
“Oh, my God, you are really awake,” she whispered, hitting something over the bed Natasha couldn’t see.
She wanted to ask what was going on, how she had gotten there, and why there were so many wires and tubes connected to her. Before she could do something about it, a flourish of activity started happening around her, and then Natasha was free, trying to catch her breath and wincing at the pain in her throat.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Romanoff?” the doctor asked, shining an annoying light in her eyes, making them water.
“Like crap,” she coughed, gratefully accepting the water Wanda got her. “What the hell happened?”
“You were in an accident.” Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Except Natasha wouldn’t exactly call what had happened in Vormir an accident. “You’ve had to undergo a couple of surgeries, but we were able to fix all the damage caused by the crash.”
“Crash?” Natasha frowned. “What crash?”
She didn’t miss the looks shared between Wanda and the doctor before the latter hesitantly said, “You were in a car crash, Mrs. Romanoff.”
Wait, what?
“You’re mistaken,” she laughed, wincing again as the action jolted her aching chest. “I—it wasn’t an accident. I wasn’t in a car.”
She opened her mouth to try and explain everything about Tony’s plan, and time traveling, and dying somewhere in space, even though she was aware of how crazy it would make her sound, but something in Wanda’s eyes made her stop. It was a look she hadn’t seen since Ultron — a tentativeness overshadowed by anxiety, like a scared deer facing off a delicately dangerous situation, trying to decide between bolting or staying to defuse the problem.
So Natasha just slumped back in bed, doing her very best not to glare at the condescending smile the doctor shot her, talking to Wanda as if Natasha wasn’t there about scheduling a CT scan to make sure everything was okay, all the while assuring that a little confusion and memory loss was perfectly normal given the circumstances.
What a load of bullshit. This woman didn’t know a third of what Natasha had gone through, and she wouldn’t get it even if she tried to explain herself. Her best shot was to try and get Wanda alone and tell her. Maybe with her powers, they could figure out what was going on.
She was actually surprised to see her, in the best way; seeing her alive and well meant that Tony’s insane time-traveling plan had somehow worked and everyone they had lost was back. Natasha had kind of thought they would come back to a war zone, though, and she definitely didn’t think she would be around to see anything unfold, but that was a bigger problem she would have to address later. Right now, she had other priorities.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she smiled when they were finally alone, faltering a little at the strained expression on Wanda’s face.
“I am your emergency contact,” she said almost apologetically, swallowing hard and avoiding eye contact. “But I can leave if you want and—”
“What? No,” Natasha managed to get a hold of Wanda’s fidgety hands, prompting her to look at her a little stunned. “Wanda, I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea.”
“You have?”
Natasha didn’t know why she sounded so surprised, and it honestly hurt a little. Had Wanda forgotten how much she meant to Natasha? Had she forgotten about everything Natasha had done for her; what she had sacrificed, so Wanda could be happy? She would never hold her choices against Wanda, but she thought she knew everything she had done had been with Wanda’s well-being in mind.
Apparently not.
“Of course,” Natasha clenched her jaw, unable to keep the hurt from her tone.
Maybe now wasn’t the best time to talk about anything, not yet; Natasha was tired, Wanda looked ready to bolt, and her eyes were already drooping from the new medication dosage that had been worked into her IV. Maybe they could talk about it when she woke up again.
Or maybe this had all just been a really weird dream.
//
Natasha woke up with a gasp, six-year-old Yelena’s scream still ringing in her ears.
Ever since the shipyard, her nightmares had come back in full force, and it was screwing up her already messed up sleep schedule. And that was fine, she was used to reliving her worst moments in her sleep. She had come to terms with what had happened in the Red Room, more or less.
Ohio, however, and everything that had gone down in Cuba, was not okay. Pictures of Melina bleeding out on a stretcher, whispering for her not to let them take her heart, while Yelena sobbed, clinging to her, were not okay. Alexei’s words, leading to a moment of weakness on her part, were not okay. Losing her family would never be okay.
Too shaken up to try and go back to sleep — and too stubborn to go back to her old coping mechanisms, no matter how much she was itching to dig up her old pair of handcuffs from her bottom drawer — Natasha padded downstairs to the kitchen to make herself some hot chocolate, trying to ignore the fact that was exactly what Melina did for her whenever she woke up in the middle of the night.
The kitchen, usually empty after midnight, was already occupied by another member of their team. A rather new member.
“Hey,” Natasha said softly, not wanting to startle Wanda, who had a vacant look as she stared at the half-filled mug she was holding.
She barely acknowledged Natasha’s presence, but at least she hadn’t knocked Natasha out with an energy blast, so it was an improvement. Wanda’s magic was volatile, and her current state of emotions left her prone to… accidents.
Natasha didn’t hold it against her, though; she had, after the shipyard. She had no sympathy for people who trespassed the privacy of her mind with a careless flick of their wrist. But Wanda had lost people too, in a much worse way than Natasha had. And one of those people had died saving Natasha’s best friend.
Natasha owed it to that sacrifice to not let Wanda drown in her own grief.
“Trouble sleeping?” she asked conversationally, breaking chunks of chocolate to melt them into the heating milk.
Wanda let out a humorless laugh, sniffling. “Something like that.”
Natasha knew better than to offer to talk; she knew, firsthand, that the only thing that would make Wanda feel better was to have her brother back, and it was the one thing she couldn’t give her. So she decided on a different approach.
“When we couldn’t sleep, my mom used to make us hot chocolate,” she said, pouring some into her mug and grabbing another to pour the rest in. “She said it helped chase the bad dreams away.”
She could feel Wanda’s curious eyes peering out at her, so she focused on methodically topping off their drinks with marshmallows. Memories of Ohio were her most cherished ones, and yet Natasha always had trouble talking about them. She liked to keep them private, close to her heart, and away from people’s prodding and judgment. But she felt like they were the best to try and provide some comfort to Wanda, so she kept going.
“I always wanted peppermint on mine, but my sister always wanted marshmallows,” she placed one of the mugs in front of Wanda. “So now I have them on mine. To honor her.”
For a long time, Wanda just stared at the mug in front of her, before hesitantly holding it in between her hands and looking up at Natasha. “I’m sorry you lost your sister.”
The words surprised Natasha, and she found herself smiling softly as she placed a hand on top of Wanda’s.
“I’m sorry you lost your brother.”
“How is she?” a voice whispered across the quietness, waking up Natasha.
“Sleeping.”
Oh, that was weird. Because Natasha could swear one of the voices belonged to Yelena, of all people, and she was pretty sure she and Wanda had never met. So what was going on there?
Was she dreaming again?
“How are you?” Yelena’s tone was soft, and kind, displaying a care Natasha had seen very few times in their adult life.
She clearly knew and loved Wanda here, wherever here was, and as much as it warmed Natasha’s heart to realize that, it just left her with a lot more questions than answers. What the hell was this place, where Wanda seemed almost afraid of her, and she and Yelena not only knew but also cared about each other? What was going on?
Perhaps this was Vormir’s really fucked up way of giving her a chance to say goodbye. After all, she hadn’t gotten a chance, so maybe the Soul Stone was trying to make it up to her somehow, to give her some sort of closure; but it was backfiring because this was just painful.
“Tired,” Wanda let out a humorless chuckle, and Natasha could see the frown that was adorning her face so clearly, even with her eyes closed.
“Go home,” Yelena commanded softly. “Get some sleep.”
Natasha knew what the answer would be before Wanda said it, “No. I can’t. I—”
“Fine,” Yelena interrupted her, clearly expecting the answer as well. “Go for a walk, then. Pietro is on the hunt for good coffee.”
What?! Pietro was alive? It took every ounce of Natasha’s strength to not react to that news; where the hell was she?
She heard Wanda sigh in defeat, feet shuffling away. “Call me if something happens,” she said before leaving.
Natasha was having a really hard time maintaining her composure; she had barely had enough time to wrap her mind around time-traveling and the quantum realm, or whatever it was that Scott had called that place, before their mission, and now this? Dead people seemingly alive and well, people who didn’t know each other treating themselves like family? What—
“You can stop pretending, you know,” Yelena’s voice cut through her racing thoughts. “I know you are awake.”
Busted.
She opened one eye, finding Yelena staring down at her with her arms crossed. Damn it.
“How did you know?” she grumbled, adjusting herself to a more comfortable position.
“You are terrible faker,” Yelena smirked at her, and despite her annoyance, Natasha couldn’t help but feel grateful to have her little sister back. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed her up until now.
“How long have you known Wanda?” she asked, hoping to get at least some clarification for her current predicament.
“I don’t know,” she frowned at her question. “How long have you known Wanda?”
She hated when Yelena did that. “Since Ultron, but I didn’t know you two—”
“What is Ultron?”
Natasha stopped, looking at Yelena as if she had grown a third head. She knew her sister knew what Ultron was. She knew from Natasha’s stories, old stories in the news, and the memorial in Sokovia. She knew. So why was she acting like she didn’t?
“You know,” she said slowly, looking for any signs of recognition on Yelena’s face. “Stark’s A.I. that went evil, tried to destroy the world.”
“What?” Yelena barked out an incredulous laugh, and Natasha felt a sense of dread coiling up in her stomach. “That does not make sense, Natka.”
If she didn’t know that Ultron had happened like she was making it sound, what else hadn’t happened? Had that been a really elaborate dream, and was this her reality? Was everybody just gaslighting her?
Before she could reply, they heard pounding footsteps in the hall, followed by a useless cry of, “No running!” as the door banged open, and two little boys entered the room.
They looked oddly familiar, as if Natasha had seen them somewhere before, but that was impossible; aside from Clint’s kids, Natasha wasn’t really around children, not anymore. Let alone little boys.
“I win!” the one with long brown hair and freckles shouted, chest puffed out proudly.
“Not fair!”
They also sounded very familiar, but Natasha couldn’t quite figure out why. There were so many weird things going on. The boys continued talking over each other, and Yelena whistled sharply before their fighting could escalate, and the two boys looked wide-eyed at her.
“Look who is awake, little rascals,” she said, gesturing to an also wide-eyed Natasha, and then, to her surprise, the boys launched in her direction, sharp relief clear on their faces.
“Mama!”
What?
Despite her rational mind screaming at her to run away, hide, and what the hell was going on, Natasha felt her body relaxing as soon as the boys enveloped their arms awkwardly around her, and then it hit her. She had seen them before.
In her dreams.
Oh, this was so weird.
“Hi, kotyata,” she surprised herself at how soft her tone was, the term of endearment coming naturally to her; her mind may not know them, but her heart certainly did, feelings surpassing rationality in a way Natasha had never experienced before.
“Are you better?”
“Can you go home?”
Their questions were asked in rapid-fire, and Natasha didn’t really know how to answer them. Thankfully, she was saved from having to answer by someone clearing their throat from the door.
“I thought I said ‘no running’,” Wanda said, attempting to glare. But instead, her lips were twisted in a pout, as if she were trying to contain a smile. It was cute.
Natasha coughed, trying to ignore the blush spreading across her cheeks.
“But mom—”
Wait. What?!
Those were… Wanda’s children? It made sense, once Natasha got a close look, because they kind of looked like her. But they had also called Natasha their mom. And she had dreamed of them being her children. Did that mean that—?
No.
It just couldn’t be.
Sure, whenever Natasha had allowed herself to entertain the thought — which was far more often than she would ever willingly admit — she may have imagined what her life could be with Wanda by her side, loving her, being happy.
But she knew she couldn’t. Not in the way Wanda deserved. And there was someone who could and wanted to, so Natasha stepped aside, not wanting to get in the way of Wanda’s happiness.
It was the best decision for everyone, she knew, even if her dreams often told her otherwise.
“Who won?” Natasha’s head snapped up at the sound of Pietro’s voice, mouth hanging open as he made his way into the room rolling out a wheelchair.
Out of all the people they had lost, she hadn’t expected to ever get him back, given what had happened in Sokovia. Seeing him again, an impish grin on his stubble face, and windswept hair, left Natasha more than a little emotional.
Wherever it was that she had ended up, she was glad to see him alive and well.
“I did!”
“Nice one, demon spawn,” he grinned, ignoring Wanda’s eye roll. “The beautiful lady down the hall sends this with her regards.”
He gestured to the chair with a little fanfare, winking at Natasha as he did so. Clearly, he hadn’t changed much.
“Were you flirting with nurses again?” Yelena narrowed her eyes at him.
“And just because of that judgy tone, you can’t have my jell-O,” he stuck out his tongue at her, and Natasha couldn’t help but snicker.
“Can I have it?” the little blonde boy asked eagerly.
She really needed to find out their names.
“Tommy, Billy,” thank you! , “Why don’t you go with your uncle to get more jell-O?” Wanda suggested in a tone that didn’t leave much room for disagreement, and Pietro nodded, pushing the chair further into the room before turning to the boys.
Tommy and Billy. Yes, Natasha remembered it now.
“Follow me, troops,” he said. “We have a mission to accomplish.”
They went willingly, but not before hugging Natasha again, dropping twin kisses on her cheeks.
The room went oddly silent in their absence, and Natasha could feel her anxiety bubbling up inside her chest now that the boys’ warm presence by her side was gone; not only had she woken up in a different, dreamlike reality, but she also was banged up from a supposed car accident, and was somehow married to Wanda? And they had children?
“I am also going,” Yelena cut through her spinning thoughts, and Natasha resisted the urge to grab her hands, so she wouldn’t leave. “Meet you guys back at the house?”
“Yes,” Wanda confirmed; Natasha guessed she was apparently going to whosever house that was. It really wasn’t practical for her to stay at the hospital forever. “We are just waiting on some paperwork.”
“Okay,” Yelena nodded, shooting Natasha a meaningful look before walking out. “Call me if you need anything. Bye!”
Wait, why had she given Natasha that look? What was going on?
After Yelena left, the silence became even worse. Wanda looked so uncomfortable to be in Natasha’s presence, and she didn’t even know what she had done wrong. How could she try and make things better, then?
“Thank you,” she found herself saying, causing Wanda’s eyes to look at her curiously, head tilting to the side.
“I—” Wanda hesitated, biting her lip before exhaling slowly. “You’re welcome.”
Natasha couldn’t take it anymore. She had spent the last five years mourning that woman, heart aching with how much she missed her, and now that she had miraculously gotten her back, she would have to be clinically insane to let whatever it was that was making Wanda uncomfortable in her presence stand in the way of their long-overdue reunion.
“Can I get a hug?”
If it were anyone else, Natasha might have despised how small and vulnerable she sounded. But not with Wanda. They had long passed pretending with one another.
Her request seemed to have taken Wanda by surprise, Natasha taking notice of how she stopped herself from unsubtly edging away from her. If Natasha didn’t have a million wires connected to her, she would have closed the distance between them herself.
But she also really wanted Wanda to take the first step.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, and Natasha didn’t know if she was talking about physical, emotional, or some other kind of hurt Wanda thought she could inflict on her.
And, honestly, she didn’t care; she just wanted Wanda to hold her.
“Wanda, please,” the crack in her voice did it, the feeling of Wanda’s arms tentatively wrapping around her, of lying her head on her shoulder and breathing her in making Natasha’s heart rate slow down since she first found herself in this apparent alternate reality, calming her down in a way only Wanda had ever been able to.
God, how she had missed her.
“Thank you,” she said one more time against her shoulder, placing the faintest kiss on top of it.
She felt more than heard Wanda’s shaky reply. “You’re welcome.”
//
The car ride from the hospital packed way less tension than their previous interactions, thankfully.
Music played from the speakers, low enough that Natasha could hear Wanda softly humming the melodies to herself, off-key; it made her smile, reminding her of all the times she had teased Wanda for doing exactly that during their morning runs. It was a little odd, this universe being so different from hers, and yet so similar in so many ways.
Wanda had also let the windows down, and Natasha peered curiously at the world around her; they definitely weren’t in New York, like she had been before going to Vormir. No, the way nature blended so seamlessly with the city, full of life but not overly crowded, actually reminded Natasha of a place she hadn’t dared to go back to since Wakanda.
Natasha had never told anyone but Clint about Ohio. She was sure Fury and Hill knew the technical side to it, S.H.I.E.L.D’s files were very thorough from what she had seen. They knew the mission side of it.
But only Clint had known about the family side of it. How the fabricated ruse constructed by the Red Room backfired and turned three Widows and a super soldier into something way stronger than any of them could have anticipated it.
Given how everything had turned out, it wasn’t a surprise that Natasha didn’t want to advertise what had happened during those three years.
And then she found herself sharing it with Wanda. Maybe it had been because she had already seen it all, so there was no point in pretending it hadn’t existed, but Natasha knew deep down that it was more than that. She had wanted to share those memories with her, give her context, and expand on them with stories and anecdotes. Talking about Melina, Alexei, Yelena, and their time together brought a side of Natasha very few people got to see; it had been her way of letting Wanda in, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it back then.
She had wanted to take Wanda to Ohio, and show her the places that held all the best memories of her childhood. But she hadn’t gotten the chance.
So to say she was surprised when they turned around the corner and Natasha found herself staring at the same street her ten-year-old self had ridden her bike on, blue hair shining against the bright sun, was an understatement. How could they be there?
“You look surprised,” Wanda said as she parked the car a couple of blocks away from the house Natasha used to live in.
“I am,” honestly, surprise didn’t begin to cover how Natasha was feeling. “It’s just not… how I remember things.”
Wanda’s eyebrows creased at her words. “How you remember things?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, sneaking a look at Wanda; she didn’t look at Natasha like she was crazy, she just looked curious, so she decided to bite the bullet and tell her. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to drive back to the hospital and have me committed?”
“Okay.” Wanda’s unwavering answer made her smile; she had always trusted Natasha.
“I… don’t remember all of this,” she gestured vaguely around her. “My life, it didn’t look like this.”
Hurt flashed across Wanda’s eyes, making Natasha feel terrible for causing it. But she didn’t know how else to say it.
Wanda cleared her throat, clearly attempting to mask her feelings. “What did it look like?”
“Bad.” Her honest answer came before she could think about it, causing her to let out a humorless laugh at the surprise on Wanda’s face. “Really, really awful.”
A ghost of a smile tugged Wanda’s lips upwards, making Natasha’s grow larger.
“But you remember Yelena. And the boys.” She fidgeted with her rings, sighing before looking at Natasha again. “And me.”
Natasha reached out on instinct, stopping Wanda’s movements by intertwining their fingers.
“Yeah,” she said softly, absentmindedly running her fingers over Wanda’s knuckles. “But that version wasn’t very kind to us.”
Tears sprung to Wanda’s eyes, causing Natasha to tighten her grip on her hands. She always hated making Wanda cry.
Wanda cleared her throat again, a lone tear running down her face as she focused on the red pickup truck parked in the driveway next to them.
“Do you also remember your parents?”
The question threw Natasha for a loop, causing her to also look at the truck; it had a bumper sticker with a big gray star on it and a SEXYTME vanity plate, but she had never seen it before.
“Yeah,” she said, looking back in time to see Wanda surreptitiously wiping her eyes.
“Good,” she said, sniffling before putting on a smile. “Because it looks like they are here, and your Dad would be crushed if he didn’t get to hug you.”
She hastily exited the car, leaving a bewildered Natasha in her wake. She wanted to go after her and explain herself, but she couldn’t; because, apparently, she had her parents to deal with first.
It looked like, no matter the universe, Natasha still had her own special brand of screwing up her relationship with Wanda.
//
What struck Natasha the most in this new Universe weren’t the similarities she found with hers; she actually found solace in the fact that no matter where she was, Yelena was still an annoying little shit, and her parents were outrageously inappropriate in front of everybody. And even if she hadn’t had the time to really get to know him, she felt at ease to see Pietro be just like Wanda had said he was.
Those were comforting things, keeping Natasha from outright losing her composure after what happened.
The differences, though, were deeply unsettling.
Alexei was still a strong, large man, but his power didn’t feel supernatural; it was just regular, human strength. Pietro still crossed the room at an alarming speed, never in one place for more than a couple of minutes, but no streaks of magnetic blue followed him.
Wanda was still a calm, solid presence, subconsciously trying to protect everyone, like strategically putting herself in front of the kitchen counter — so every time Tommy ran past her and tripped, she could be there to hold him back, instead of letting him face-plant on the granite surface — or offer to grab what Melina had asked for so Yelena wouldn’t climb on top of said counter and risk falling. But not a single moment caused her eyes to flash red, or wisps of energy to dance from her fingers.
Wherever they were, it looked like no one had any powers. And if that were true, it meant one thing — Natasha wouldn’t be able to get back to where she needed to be.
“Are you okay, Natka?” Melina asked as she gently sat next to her on the porch’s comfortable chairs. “Are holding pillow very tight.”
Natasha made a conscious effort to loosen her hold on the pillow, trying to focus instead on Pietro and Alexei throwing a football with the boys. But it was to no use; apparently, in every universe, Melina’s observation skills were unmatched, and she was relentless.
She wouldn’t push but wouldn’t let it slide either, and Natasha found herself speaking up like she always did.
“I’m worried,” she sighed, absentmindedly fidgeting with a loose thread on the pillow, speaking quietly, so Wanda wouldn’t overhear them from the kitchen. “Things are… weird, between Wanda and me, right now.”
“Because of fights?” Natasha’s head snapped in her direction, eyes wide. “Yelena said you called her.”
Natasha bit down her bottom lip, hard, averting her gaze once again; if she kept looking at Melina, she would lose a battle against her tears, and she didn’t want that.
“I don’t even remember why we were fighting,” she admitted, a little ashamed. It wasn’t a lie, even if it weren’t the whole truth either. “I don’t remember.”
And that was what worried Natasha the most. Had her other self said something so bad to Wanda that led her not to want to be in the same room as Natasha? What could she have possibly done?
She had always had a knack for doing and saying the wrong thing, striking a painful chord within people; but she had always tried not to do it with Wanda. If her alternate self hadn’t, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to stay there.
“Do you want to stay fighting?” she frowned at Melina’s question, unsure of what she meant.
“What?”
“Do you want to stay fighting?” Melina repeated herself, in her usual unfazed tone.
Her calmness towards everything had always been soothing, and Natasha tried to channel that as she gathered her thoughts. Did she want to keep fighting with Wanda? Of course not. She had chosen that option once and regretted it immediately; given the chance, she wanted to make amends, not keep arguing.
She wanted to hold Wanda in her arms, apologize, kiss her, and tell her everything she had always kept herself from saying because it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to say those words out loud but not follow through; and Natasha knew she would never be able to, no matter how much she wanted it.
And it would be even less fair to do it now, given that she didn’t belong there. She had to get back, but the least she could do was to try and make up for her alternate self screw-up.
“No,” she sighed. “I don’t.”
“There you go,” Melina tapped her knee gently, mindful of her injuries. “Apologize and move on.”
“That simple, huh?” Natasha smirked at her mother’s resolution.
Melina’s serious look put an end to her humor, though, as she subconsciously straightened her spine; some things would never change, apparently.
“Nothing is ever simple, Natka,” her earnest words caused Natasha’s heartstrings to snap. “But some things are worth it, no?”
She knew the underlying meaning behind her mother’s words; yes, Wanda was worth it. She always had been.
“Yeah.”
//
After Alexei proposed a sleepover to the boys, everybody agreed that it was time to leave, so Natasha could rest.
While thoughtful, the gesture caused Natasha’s anxiety to bubble up in her chest, and she had to exercise an insurmountable effort to keep it at bay. Being left alone with only Wanda to take care of her meant one thing: they would have to talk.
And how would Natasha even begin that, in a world where she couldn’t rely on magic and supernatural powers to help her make sense of everything? Wanda would just think that she was crazy, still concussed, or worse — that she didn’t want to be with her, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
How could she explain everything without making it sound like she wanted to leave? Granted, she knew she would have to, but she didn’t want Wanda to feel like she was abandoning her out of her own volition.
“Do you need anything else?” Wanda asked after Natasha exited the bathroom.
She had changed the sheets, the room looking tidier than it had fifteen minutes before. It seemed like this Wanda also had a habit of cleaning everything when she was nervous.
“I think we need to talk,” she said, dread coiling up inside her.
“Okay,” Wanda looked resigned, as if dreading it as much as Natasha.
Natasha sat cross-legged on the bed, propping herself against the bed frame, with Wanda right across from her. She looked at Natasha expectantly, in a clear sign that she wasn’t going to go first. Maybe that was better.
“First, I want to say that, if you don’t believe me, fine,” she said, trying to prepare herself. “But I promise you, I’m not crazy, okay?”
“Okay,” Wanda’s earnest look was enough to encourage her to keep her going.
“Remember when I told you that this isn’t the life I remember?” Wanda nodded. “In that life, we had powers. Well, you had them. Big time. I only kind of had them.”
“Powers?”
“Yeah,” Natasha rubbed her hands over her face, knowing she was doing a bad job at explaining herself. “Let me go from the beginning.”
She told Wanda everything she knew and remembered, filling in gaps from both her life and what Wanda had told her about hers. It was long, and it did sound a lot like insanity when spoken out loud like that, but at least Wanda was hearing her out.
“You don’t look surprised,” she said, after watching Wanda’s impassive face when she was done.
“I… am a little familiar with what you have told me,” Wanda said, baffling Natasha. “I have dreams about it, sometimes. So it does not sound totally crazy.”
Natasha puffed out an incredulous laugh, a wave of relief washing over her. She couldn’t believe how well this conversation was going.
“So you know how bad it was,” she said.
Wanda shrugged. “Sometimes I dreamt good things,” Natasha arched an eyebrow at her. “A trailer in Norway, a sunny beach house in Rio…”
Natasha blushed fiercely at her words. Those had been precious, stolen moments while they had been on the run after breaking out of the Raft; she and Steve had agreed that if they all stayed together it would be too conspicuous, so after leaving Bucky in Wakanda, Steve took off with Sam, and she took off with Wanda.
They had gone back to Norway, to get some things Yelena had left for her, and then they went out to the world, never staying too long in a place, bouncing off in different directions to mislead any possible tails. They went from Norway, to Turkey, to Egypt; spent two months backpacking through South America, before making their way to Australia.
Natasha could honestly say it was the happiest she had ever been in her whole adult life, those stolen moments with Wanda making her feel like she was someone she would never be — someone normal, who deserved to enjoy her life with the woman she loved.
They met up with Steve and Sam again in Hong Kong, and then Vision joined them. And then… well. Natasha had always known good things could never last, at least not for her.
Sometimes she regretted, not telling Wanda how she really felt when she confronted her, letting Vision just sweep her off her feet while she hopelessly watched. She left again, this time alone, and tried to pretend she wasn’t missing anything.
“You were having bad dreams,” Wanda said, eyes downcast, startling Natasha out of her memories. “You would wake up screaming, triggered by the smallest things.”
Yeah, that tracks. PTSD-fueled dreams were nothing new for Natasha.
“It got really bad one night, and I suggested going to a psychiatrist.” Oh. Natasha could see where everything had gone wrong there. “You didn’t take it very well.”
“Sorry about that,” Natasha grimaced, eliciting the faintest of smiles from Wanda.
“We had a big fight,” Wanda continued. “You packed your things and said you were going to stay at Yelena’s since I thought you were such a problem to deal with.”
Ouch. This universe’s version of herself definitely had gone for where it hurt the most there. No wonder Wanda was upset with her.
“You left in the middle of the night and then—” she gulped, voice trembling as she fought back her tears, “And then you got into an accident.”
Wow. Things had really gone south there. What the hell? Did no version of herself deserve good things? No lifetime where she got to be just happy, for once? It dawned on her, then, exactly what Wanda must be feeling after everything.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” she said, knowing she was right from the way Wanda inhaled sharply. “Sh—I shouldn’t have left like that.”
“I should not have made you upset,” Wanda shook her head. “I know how you get and then—”
“Wanda.” Natasha interrupted her. “We both know that I’d have done something stupid either way and gotten myself hurt. It wasn’t your fault.”
As she watched Wanda try to compose herself, Natasha took a deep breath of her own, preparing herself for what she had to say next.
“So I’m going to look for some help,” she said, drawing Wanda’s eyes back to her. “I’m going to find someone who can help me get back, undo this mix-up, so you can—”
This time, Wanda did look at her like she was a lunatic, and Natasha stopped. Had she said something wrong?
“Do you want to leave? Again?”
Natasha sighed, biting her bottom lip, averting her eyes from Wanda’s questioning look. She might not have powers in this universe, but her stare-down sure packed as much of a punch as Natasha was used to.
“I have to, Wanda,” she said, hating how unsure she sounded; she needed to be strong for this. “I don’t belong here.”
Wanda narrowed her eyes at her, “That is not what I asked.”
Natasha wove a hand through her hair, pulling it hard, trying to reign in the emotions bubbling up inside her; Wanda wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She never did.
“What do you want me to say?” Natasha crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her biceps to the point where it hurt.
“What you want!” Natasha’s eyes widened at her outburst; she wasn’t used to this much anger coming from Wanda without it being followed by scarlet energy exploding around her. “Tell me what you want and be honest!”
That struck a chord in Natasha; it was a statement that could only come from someone who knew her and knew she could — and would, often — skirt around a subject for days without ever fully disclosing how she was truly feeling.
“I can’t!”
All the fighting seemed to leave Wanda’s body as Natasha started to lose a battle against the sobs raking her body.
“Why not?”
Natasha tried to take a breath to explain, but she couldn’t; her tears were coming in too fast and unimpeded, and all she could do was focus on the thoughts circling in a loop in her mind.
How could she even begin to explain to Wanda that if she let herself have this — this family, this life, this universe — and it all got taken away from her somehow, because it always did, how was she expected to survive that? At least if she removed herself from the situation before it could end, she would have some semblance of control over it, and she could make that work.
She could live (or die, if she went back to her universe) and move on knowing that what made her happy was there, even if it wasn’t hers anymore; they were there, and they were happy and free, and safe. That had always been enough.
Natasha wasn’t used to this; people taking care of her, loving her so openly and honestly. She had, early on in her life, but it got taken away by the Red Room, not once, but twice. So Natasha had promised herself — never again.
It wasn’t easy, with people like Clint (and then later Laura, and the kids), Fury, and Wanda worming their way past Natasha’s well-established barriers, but even then she had managed to walk away and keep them safe every time. There had always been something more important going on, a perfect excuse disguised as a world-ending disaster.
But not here. Here everything was so normal — no space invasion threats, no superpowered humans wreaking havoc, nothing. And yet, here everything felt way more real than it ever had in Natasha’s reality, and it scared her to no end.
How would she ever be able to protect herself from that?
She was startled out of her panic by Wanda’s cold fingers touching her face, gently guiding her face, so they could look each other in the eye.
“Why not, Nat?” she repeated her question softly, breathing slowly, attempting to coach Natasha to mimic her. “Why can’t you tell me what you want?”
“Because—” Natasha took a deep breath, trying to focus on Wanda’s kind eyes and not on the way she started shaking like a leaf, “It’s scary.”
“I know, lyubimaya, I know,” she whispered, Natasha’s heart constricting in her chest at the term of endearment; it was the same her universe’s Wanda had used when they… well. “But you’re safe with me.”
Her words only served to lead more tears down Natasha’s face. She knew that. She had always been safe with Wanda. And that had always been the scariest thing.
“I want to stay,” she admitted in her quietest voice. “But what if—”
She was cut off abruptly by a pair of soft lips touching her own.
Oh.
Wanda kissed her like she did everything else — gently, softly, but with so much intention behind every gesture. It was in the way she pressed her lips against Natasha’s just strong enough to make her gasp, allowing her to deepen the kiss; in the way she threaded her fingers in Natasha’s curls, keeping her in place, and guiding her towards Wanda’s embrace.
Wanda kissed her like she never wanted to let her go, and Natasha let herself drown in the feeling.
“If you want to stay,” Wanda said, touching her forehead against Natasha’s, breathing heavily. “Then stay. Please.”
She said it like it was the simplest of choices to make, though Natasha hadn’t made a simple choice since she was four years old. It had always been make it or break it.
But now, surrounded by nothing but Wanda’s soft words and even softer touches, Natasha felt compelled to try. One simple choice. She could do that.
“Okay,” she said, lips curling upwards a little as Wanda’s hands tightened their grip on her neck slightly. “I’m staying.”
Wanda’s answering kiss was worth any heartbreak Natasha might futurely endure.