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justminawrites · 1 year

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where do we go now?

AO3

Summary: an epilogue that takes place after the events of Thor: Love and Thunder.

1 | TBC

Love didn’t know many things.

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep or what had woken her up. She didn’t know how she’d ended up in the infinite emptiness that she’d come to understand was called the Shadow Realm. She didn’t know the name of the pale man who’d died in her arms just a few hours ago, even though Uncle Thor had explained that he was her father.

Love was sure that couldn’t be true - she’d definitely remember something as important as her father’s name, wouldn’t she? - but she didn’t have the heart to correct him then.

Love didn’t know many things, but she could tell when someone had been crying.

She didn’t know how, perhaps she’d become accustomed to seeing sorrow, but the wet face and red-rimmed eyes were terrible giveaways. At some point Love wondered if she should offer the golden-haired god a hug sheerly out of polite confusion, like she’d done with the dying man, but found she didn’t have to.

“I’m your Uncle Thor,” he said proudly by way of introduction; so proudly, in fact, that she immediately broke down sobbing, and admitted she didn’t have any idea what was going on.

He didn’t look the least bit fazed by this.

“Do not worry,” he shook his head reassuringly, “That’s what I’m for. We shall figure it out together, little one.”

Then he’d offered his hand, Love had reluctantly held onto it, and he’d whisked her off to Earth.

Love didn’t know many things.

However, in New Asgard, she found out that wasn’t the case after all. She knew how to count, how to play the flute, and could even speak some crude midgardian, though the answer to how she possessed all this knowledge eluded her.

She’d clung to her Uncle Thor in those initial few weeks, unwilling to part with the comfortingly large frame of the once-king, no matter how much Lady Sif tried to coax her to play with the other children, or simply leave his side for a short while.

Love would follow him around, watching and replicating his movements as best she could: only eating what he ate, only talking to people he talked to, occasionally looking up at him for permission whenever she was out of her element.

For his part, Thor didn’t seem to mind it too much; he was preoccupied with building a memorial - a twenty-foot statue for someone named Jane Foster - and often entrusted her with keeping safe his prized hammer, Mjölnir.

Love decided it must be important because she’d seen Lady Sif tease him about it when they’d first arrived.

“Oh, not again,” Sif sat up from the infirmary bed, grey eyes narrowing on the hammer slung on his right hip.

“I suppose I can’t convince you to return that to the New Asgard Museum? It’s one of our main attractions, your Highness.”

“Highly unlikely, Lady Sif,” Thor smiled kindly and squeezed her uninjured shoulder, “And I believe I’ve outgrown that moniker many decades ago.”

“Don’t jest, you’ll always be– oh! Who’s this sweet thing you’ve brought with you?”

Love poked her head out shyly from behind his red cape at that moment, interrupting their conversation.

“My name’s.. Love.. ma’am.. uh.. Lady Sif,” she mumbled in broken asgardian, looking up to Thor for confirmation.

“C’mere, let me get a look at you.”

He nodded encouragingly, so she emerged, tentatively stepping closer to the bed until she was face-to-face with the one-armed warrior laying on it. Love held her breath as she watched her own reflection tremble in Sif’s dark eyes.

“By the All-Father,” Sif exchanged a strange look with Thor, brows furrowed in confusion, “She’s got your eyes, your Highness.”

“The universe has a cruel sense of humour, Sif,” was all Thor had to say on the matter.

Love didn’t know many things.

But she did know that the week her Uncle Thor was away, had been the loneliest of her life so far. He had promised to return soon - catching up with a few old friends - but she’d begged him to take her with him. After an hour of fruitless bargaining Thor gave in and left his hammer with her as a compromise.

“Mjölnir,” he pretended to chastise the weapon after setting it down on her bedside table.

“You must protect this brave little girl with all your might till I return. Do we have an understanding, old friend?”

After a few quiet seconds, Mjölnir glowed a faint blue in affirmation, and her panic was immediately replaced with delight.

Thor ruffled her hair fondly and left that very night.

Love had only just gotten used to her life New Asgard - she made few friends, minded her manners, even did her dishes without complaining - when the first incident occurred.

It happened during a harmless self-defense exercise in the Town Square. Lady Sif was teaching her the correct posture with which to hold a wooden sword when a wasp the size of a walnut landed on its tip. Love had been so startled she hadn’t noticed what happened until it was too late.

The slightly smoking carcass of the insect disintegrated into ash in a blink.

She looked up at Lady Sif, alarmed, only to find the seasoned warrior looking down at the ground in horror. The cobblestones under Sif’s feet had cracked in a straight line all the way from the edge of her foot to the point under Love’s wooden sword – directly in her line of sight. An inch or two further and Sif’s leg–

“How did you–“ Sif began, but Love had already dropped the sword and fled.

Love didn’t know many things.

Like what rumours were, or how they began, but all of New Asgard knew about her condition before suppertime. She’d left the windows of her room open to invite a cool sea breeze but snatches of conversation floated in instead:

“..purple lasers?”

“..from her eyes!”

“–nearly took out Sif’s leg too!”

“Definitely not Asgardian–”

The last one felt like the twist of a knife in her gut. Love had slammed the window shut, pulled the covers over her head and tried not to cry.

Hours passed, but she refused to leave the room, regardless of who knocked. The door stubbornly stayed shut when Lady Sif brought her supper that no one, not even King Valkyrie could coax her into eating, until–

Three soft taps followed by a gruff male voice.

“Will you let me in, little one?”

Dizzy with guilt and hunger, she feverishly threw open the doors to a tired Thor stirring a steaming bowl of potato stew.

“I’m not Asgardian!” She cried accusingly, expecting him to be surprised.

He only sighed and knelt so she could face him eye-level.

“I see,” he nodded seriously before holding out the food, “Does that mean you no longer eat asgardian meals?”

Love opened her mouth to contest it but the smell of tomato broth had her stomach answer before she could.

“I had a brother who was not Asgardian,” Thor admitted once she’d inhaled the soup and flopped down on the floor beside him.

“What happened to him?”

“He gave his life to protect them.”

“But why would he do that?” She looked up at him, puzzled.

“Because being Asgardian has nothing to do with where you were born,” he said, almost to himself.

“Only what you do.”

Before Love could ask what that meant, she felt the feather-soft touch of sleep caress her face and tip her backwards into a deep slumber.

Love didn’t know many things.

She didn’t know why she had no memories before the Shadow Realm or why purple lasers shot out of her eyes whenever she was afraid. She didn’t know where Uncle Thor would go whenever he left New Asgard but there was one fact of which she was certain: he was done leaving her behind.

Thor for his part seemed to agree with this sentiment since he made no effort to dissuade her from tagging along, besides making her promise to heed his warnings if and when he gave them. She readily accepted these terms and they were off once again.

The first midgardian Love ever met was Dr. Erik Selvig.

A tall, middle-aged man with a receding hairline and kind eyes, who smelled like the cough drops she’d stolen from the infirmary once. He walked out of a shiny, rectangular building to greet them, pulling Thor into a long, drawn-out hug; so long, in fact, that Love wondered if the doctor had fallen asleep mid-way.

“Thor!” He smiled, finally pulling away, “It’s good to see you, my boy! How long has it been since you last visited Earth?”

“Longer than it should’ve been, Doctor,” Thor said ruefully. The tone of his voice was so foreign to Love, devoid of its cheer and confidence, that she stuck her head from behind his cloak to squint up at him.

“Ha! That’s the spiri– oh my! What’ve we got here?”

Dr. Selvig had caught sight of her. He leaned down to peer into her face for a minute and broke into a blinding smile.

“My God!” He exclaimed, “She’s got your eyes! So you and Jane didn’t work out, huh?”

Love quickly introduced herself and asked the doctor how he knew her Uncle Thor. Selvig flushed with embarrassment (the resemblance is quite uncanny) and explained that he was one of the original scientists, along with Dr. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, who’d met the asgardian when he’d been banished to Earth.

Love didn’t know many things, but she could swear it was out of relief that Thor ruffled her hair then.

“About Jane, Doctor,” He interrupted Selvig’s story, “There’s something I need to discuss with you, privately.”

“Oh-Of course! We can go to my office,” Dr. Selvig gestured to the building behind him.

Once they’d made their way in and up the building that Love suspected was actually a maze designed to trick a person into walking round and round in circles, Selvig opened a heavily fortified door to what looked like a bank vault and slipped inside.

She was about to follow after him but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back. Thor shook his head, unhooked Mjölnir from his belt hoop and placed it on the ground beside her - she’d promised - then held up three fingers, indicating that he’d only be gone 3 minutes and disappeared into the doorway after Selvig.

Love frowned but took her place beside the hammer obediently, watching a faint blue glow pulse along it’s cracks. She couldn’t lift it yet, of course, but she’d spent so many nights whispering secrets to it beside her bedstead that she was sure Mjölnir could hear her thoughts at this point.

She wondered what it could hear now, when her thoughts were so mixed up that she couldn’t pinpoint one feeling from another.

Love didn’t know many things, but the only thing she was certain of was that she’d done something to make her Uncle Thor hate her.

He’d tried his best to hide it under sallow smiles and half-hearted promises, but he’d kept her at arm’s length ever since he’d brought her to New Asgard.

Thor wouldn’t attend any school events or training practices, he would take his meals separately from hers and, once, when she’d accidentally slipped up and used the asgardian word for father instead of uncle, he’d stiffened and left the room.

Lady Sif had consoled her by explaining how the God of Thunder had suffered through a tremendous period of loss in his life - he’d lost almost everyone there was to lose, his mother, his father, his brother (thrice!), his friends, half his people, even Mjölnir for a while - and that sometimes, one needs to take the time to grieve the dead before they can fully come back to the land of the living.

This reasoning had pacified her at the time but it had gotten increasingly more awkward since he’d taken her with him on his missions. Where it had once been one-armed hair ruffles and the occasional head pat, now Thor could barely look her in the eye and Love was convinced it was because people kept comparing them to his own.

She’d tried not to take the rejection to heart, he’d done the best he could, after all, but a part of her wondered if it’d be easier for him if she wasn’t around.

Even though the real reason Thor had left her alone with Mjölnir was in case of an emergency - she’d been instructed to grab onto the handle and hold tight if the hammer should ever twitch or move a fraction - Love liked to imagine that there was actually a person inside it, a guardian of sorts that kept watch over her when he couldn’t. Someone strong, like Sif or even Korg, to protect her when the nightmares got too lucid to handle on her own.

“Yes, yes I understand-“

Love looked up to see the vault like door spin open (unlocking itself from the inside, she realised), and hear the tail-end of a conversation escape out into the hallway; it seemed like the Doctor had just received very unsettling news.

“–but why didn’t she tell me? We worked on her diagnosis together, you know–”

“Perhaps she did not want to alarm you, Erik. Jane was always stubborn about such things.”

“Yes, yes, that sounds like her; my Jane. I just– I can’t believe she’s really gone–“

“She will be missed.” Thor finally emerged from the doorway, Selvig at his heels, a vague sort of confusion still etched into his wrinkles- and gave her a curt nod. It was time to leave.

She jumped to her feet, dusting off her new jeans (a gift from Valkyrie), and reached out to clasp Thor’s arm. He absentmindedly shook her off as he bent over to pick up the hammer and reattach it to his hip. Love tried not to let the devastation show on her face as she held onto his cape instead.

“I hope to see you at the funeral, Doctor,” Thor turned back to his friend with a tight-lipped smile as he prepared to open the Bifrost with his axe.

“Wait!” Selvig yelled as the white light cascaded all around them, “ Do me a favour! Tell Darc–“

Unfortunately she never got to hear exactly what the favour was because the rest of Erik Selvig’s words were drowned out by the roar of the Bifrost as a multicoloured rain of starlight descended from the sky and teleported them back home.

Love didn’t know many things.

She knew the legacy of Dr. Jane Foster, of course, it was all the children of Asgard would ever talk about.

During recess, during lessons, on the way to and from the schoolhouse, there was always a new story from one of the survivors of the ‘Taking’, as the people of New Asgard had dubbed it.

Though the accounts of the villain differed greatly from one story to another - sometimes it was a man with a face as pale as the moon and eyes like egg yolks, and sometimes it was just a dark shadow with a rows of knife-like teeth - all of them usually agreed on one thing.

With her shining blonde hair, and silver sparkle her eye, the Mighty Thor intervened at the exact moment all hope was lost and blam!–– blasted a lightning bolt right through the villain (in this case a shadowy spectre), giving the children the perfect opportunity to escape! It was her well-timed attack, and eventual sacrifice that allowed Asgard’s own legacy to live on in the form of its young, and for that she would always have a place in their homes, and their hearts.

However incredibly entertaining, none of these stories shed light on the relationship between Asgard’s newest hero and its once-king, which was what Love really needed to know. So she decided to ask someone who she was sure had all the answers.

“King Valkyrie,” she huffed, wiping away the sweat that slicked her palms just enough to keep her from holding her staff properly.

“Was Uncle Thor friends with Jane Foster?”

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow but continued to swat Love’s staff with one of her own, forcing her to keep dodging the blows as the afternoon the sun beat down her back. She finally dropped her weapon as Love slipped on the sandy floors of the training ground and collapsed in exhaustion.

Valkyrie had taken over her training ever since the eye-laser Incident, and Love was torn between feeling grateful for individual practice, and resentful for how far her new mentor would push her. While Sif would have her swing a sword, string a bow and call it a day; Valkyrie had undergone the most rigorous tutelage Asgard had to offer, only on par with the royal family themselves, and subsequently decided that Love’s newfound powers merited the same level of attention.

“You need to focus your energy, kiddo,” Her mentor finally replied, holding out an arm to help her stand up, “And I would say a bit more than friends.”

“More than friends? Were they disciples?” She asked, accepting the hand with no small amount of relief. They’d only been here an hour and her muscles were already aching.

“Disciples?” Valkyrie scowled, “Like religious groups? What put that idea in your head?”

Love cocked her head to one side in confusion; she didn’t understand the question.

It seemed like a true and undeniable fact of the universe that the natural progression of a friendship (liking one another) was religion (liking one thing, together).

King Valkyrie’s response didn’t immediately alarm her, many of the other asgardians had reacted similarly to hearing such words; to them God was just a glorified title for favoured warriors and princes, nothing beyond an indicator of great respect.

“I- I’m not sure,” she frowned, trying to pinpoint where the thought had come from, but much like her memories, the answer seemed to hover right above her tongue, so close but still out of her reach.

“Where’d you hear that word anyway?” Valkyrie narrowed her eyes, unwilling to let it go, “Kids at school saying things they shouldn’t be?”

“No, I think I might’ve heard it in a dream–“

“A dream?”

It was more of a nightmare, really. Love had been plagued with the reoccurring vision since she’d left the Shadow Realm - she was being chased through a barren wasteland by a formless, black wraith that kept calling her name - and each time she awoke, she’d remember a little detail about her past that she wasn’t sure she hadn’t already known.

It was usually harmless, she’d awaken from a short nap with the realisation that her favourite colour was yellow, or that she’d lost most of her baby teeth already, but occasionally the monster in the dream would catch her; those times were the worst.

Love would scream as its nails would scrape the skin on her forearms, pull and hold her in its breathless embrace, and whisper strange nonsense in its raspy voice. She’d wake from those dreams crying, a mixture of salt and snot smeared all over her face and the inexplicable exhaustion in her legs, as though she’d actually been trudging across a desert in her sleep.

It was during one such dream that the apparition had hissed “...daughter of Rapu's disciples.. you are no Asgardian.” a phrase Love had instinctively understood without knowing why.

“Actually, it was a nightmare–“

“What?” Valkyrie furrowed her brows, “What kind of nightmares? Have you told anyone about them?”

Love shook her head obediently. She’d considered telling Thor multiple times but every time she opened her mouth, the raspy voice at the back of her mind would scoff at her– did she think the All-father, Protector of the Nine Realms, had time to sit around and comfort a little girl because she’d had a bad dream?

“Not even Thor?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“A- a couple of weeks maybe.”

“SON OF A– Mmpfff!“ Valkyrie kicked the staff at her feet so hard it broke in two as it spun away, but Love got the feeling that she was holding in far more frustration than that. Before she could even attempt to smooth things over with a placating white lie however, they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Do you need a hand, your majesty?” Lady Sif asked cheerily carrying a tray with a pitcher of cool, lemon-infused water.

Now usually even one of these things would make the most courageous asgardian nervous– Love didn’t think she’d seen Sif pass someone a goblet without a death-glare attached to it, much less bring refreshments with a smile. Yet here she stood anyway, silver-grey eyes flicking back-and-forth between her king and once-protégée.

“Oh, uh, thanks, but I don’t really drink..um.. not-booze.” Valkyrie shrugged noncommittally as she was offered the tray.

“O-Oh right. I must’ve been mistaken.” A faint pink sheen dusted Sif’s cheeks as the warrior hastily bowed in apology.

Love reached for the pitcher next and and nearly spilled it onto herself out of sheer relief.

“No please,” Sif rolled her eyes at these antics, “Don’t save any for the rest us. Just like your fa- uh.. ahem.. the All-Father.”

Love stuck her tongue out in reply.

“Right! Where’s that brute gone off to anyway?” Valkyrie crossed her arms, suddenly recalling her pent-up irritation.

“Him and I need to have a talk. It’s about the kid.”

“Thor? Oh he’s probably at Jane’s statue.. again.. Your Highness?”

“Keep an eye on her will ya?” Valkyrie called back as she set off towards the exit, “She’s too quick for her own good.”

“Yes.. of course.”

But by the time Sif had turned around, Love was already gone.

Love didn’t know many things. Useful skills like forging, lock-picking or gardening were lost to her, nevertheless, she’d spent so much time running and hiding (in dreams and reality) that she’d developed an affinity for secret passageways.

She knew where all the best shortcuts were in all of New Asgard; for example, there was a tunnel in the fence behind the schoolhouse that would lead right up the clocktower, she’d use it to sneak away whenever her lessons got too much for her to handle.

Then there was the one beneath Lady Siriana’s flowerbeds that would take you straight to the Frigga Temple, and so on and so forth.

Love had spent her unsupervised time (of which she had plenty), scouring the city’s catacombs and found that it had once been known by a different name, Tønsberg, Norway, and inhabited primarily by midgardian shepherds and farmers alike.

Out of all the otherwise undiscovered pathways, her favourite was the abandoned mine shaft that ran right under the training grounds, all the way to the Jane Foster Tribute: a twenty-foot tall monument made of white marble, erected to honour the dead hero.

Ironically, it was also the one she used the least.

Love was careful to sneak away only during group activities like archery, slipping through a trapdoor behind the stone benches and following a long, twisted passage to emerge above a second trapdoor concealed right behind one of the legs of the giant statue.

The first time she’d done it, the memorial site was filled with people, some praying, some recounting stories, all consistently praising the fallen warrior; so she hadn’t stayed long.

The second time however, she’d found Thor kneeling at its foot, softly whispering to the wind as tears trickled down his face. Perhaps it was the novelty of it that scared her, she’d never seen her uncle look so lost, but she hadn’t stayed to listen that time either.

This time - she promised, landing on her knees with a soft thump!- would be different.

The passageway was lit by oil braziers fixed to the walls at evenly spaced intervals, or at least they would have been, if anyone was there to light them. Both times that Love had been down here, she’d stumbled along in the dark, feeling her way through with only her hearing and her sense of touch to guide her. She wouldn’t have even known it was a mine shaft if she hadn’t scraped her knees on the tracks the first time.

Ten minutes of utter darkness and silence later the faint sound of conversation came from somewhere above her head; Love stopped and began to check the walls for a handle or switch of some kind.

After a few seconds of grabbing empty air, she felt the sleek, cone-shaped design and pulled downward– unfortunately she pulled too hard and the handle snapped right off. For a second, Love was too shocked to react.

If she didn’t know any better she’d call it a sign from the universe that she wasn’t meant to listen in on this particular conversation.

The logical thing to do was, obviously, turn back but if there was one thing Love shared with her uncle, it was their inability to accept defeat.

Using the broken handle to identify the most hollowed spot in the tunnel wall, she punched with all her might.

The mechanism to activate the trapdoor was a simple one– pulling the handle should activate a revolving door with the steps leading upward and outward. Unfortunately, the hinges had rusted over in their decades of unuse, so Love tried to manually rotate the door using her physical strength.

She punched once, twice, but it was only at the third punch that she felt something behind the wall tremble, like a mini-earthquake. Alright, now she was getting somewhere. A few more punches and she felt the wall move an inch, dragging its heels the whole way– similar to closing a door with a doorstop.

After another strenuous push or two, Love began to deeply regret slacking on her mentor’s physical training exercises. She briefly wondered if the eye-lasers would have a greater effect but decided against it immediately– the last thing she needed was this passageway collapsing in on itself and burying her alive.

Okay, what had Valkyrie said? Focus your energy. Focus, focus, focus. Love stabbed the broken end of the handle into the stone and took a deep breath. Focus. Then she punched.

The impact glowed with a faint violet pulse, creating a rippling effect on the stone as the wall turned smoothly to reveal a rocky stairwell leading upwards. She quickly ascended it, popping open the latch on the trapdoor just in time to hear the current and former king of Asgard screaming at each other.

“–she NEEDS YOU-“

“Don’t you think I KNOW THAT–“

Love scrambled to her feet, being careful to drop the door gently, and inched closer to the statue. From her vantage point (sandwiched between the statue’s marble cape and boot), she could see her mentor trying to reason with an unresponsive Thor.

She ignored the guilt that bloomed in the pit of her stomach and leaned closer to listen.

“At least look at me when I’m talking to you, coward!” Valkyrie snapped, hands on her hips as he remained hunched over at the foot of Jane’s statue.

“You’re right,” Thor mumbled under his breath.

“What?”

“I said YOU’RE RIGHT–” He shot back, “I’m a coward.”

“I must be a coward because no matter how much I fight, it is always someone else that dies in my stead. Mother, Father, Heimdall, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, even Loki got his day in Valhalla. And now Jane. Jane.”

“Thor–“

“I asked her not to do it; I begged her. I said we’d find another way.”

“She made a choice,” Valkyrie sighed, “Asgard owes her more than it can ever repay for her sacrifice.”

“A choice she might have reconsidered,” Thor replied vacantly, “If someone hadn’t given her a pegasus to travel with.”

“Don't you dare put this one on me–“ Valkyrie retorted, “I wasn’t the one who decided to adopt the kid–

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?” He roared, slamming the ground with his fist. Love ducked as the impact sent small tremors up the statue, shaking free specs of white dust and debris.

“Would you rather I left her there? A defenceless child in the Shadow Realm?”

“I would rather-,” Valkyrie stressed, “-you take some responsibility for the little girl you’ve been avoiding for the past week and a half, your majesty.”

The honorific seemed to evoke a reaction out of Thor as he finally turned around to face Valkyrie with a scowl.

“Do not–“

“No, that’s right,” she sniped, “You’re not the King of Asgard anymore, are you? Another thing you just abandoned when it wasn’t convenient for you.”

“You know nothing of my pain–“ He opened his mouth, only to be quickly shot down.

“Oh please,” Valkyrie rolled her eyes, “I know enough. You’re not the only one who’s lost everything before, Thor.”

“I have tried to be patient with you; I’ve tried to let you off the hook. I didn’t say anything when you dumped your duties onto me because you were consumed with your quest for revenge against Thanos. I didn’t utter a word when you called it quits to travel around the galaxy to ‘find yourself’ or even when you had us go into the Shadow Realm without a plan.

I trusted you every step of the goddamn way, but I can’t sit here and watch you give up on this child because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself, again.”

Her outburst seemed to have an effect on Thor, at least, as the fog in his blue eyes cleared and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Love swallowed thickly, feeling the faint prick of tears in the corner of her eyes and quietly prayed that her eye-lasers wouldn’t start acting up now. She was so focused on keeping her cool that she almost missed what he said next.

“–anything happened?”

“What?”

“Has anything else happened?” Thor repeated, gesturing to his eyes, “You know, any more of that purple-laser–eye thing?”

“She’s been having these dreams,” Valkyrie took a deep breath, “Visions; I think she’s starting to remember.”

“When I last spoke with her about her father, she didn’t believe me.”

“Well, maybe you should consider revisiting that talk, unless you want her ending up like your brother.”

“Loki died a hero–“ Thor began.

“And lived an outcast.“ Valkyrie countered, recalling the green-clad, silver-tongued god of mischief, detested by many.

“What do you think will happen when she figures out the man in her dreams is the same one that attacked New Asgard and stole its children? Did you assume our people would be ready to welcome the daughter of that monster with open arms?”

“They never have to know–”

“Your brother,” She interrupted ruthlessly, “–was the best kept secret in all of Asgard. Odin told no one but Frigga, but even that wasn’t enough. People are already starting to talk about her powers, Thor, I guarantee it won’t be long before some of them start asking questions neither of us can answer.”

Love watched their back and forth, transfixed.

A small part of her knew she should be surprised by everything she was hearing but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare in confusion as the two most important people in her life debated her future like she had no part in it.

Something like pressure began to build in the back of her skull.

“What do would you have me do?” Thor asked tiredly.

Valkyrie pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath, letting the silence between them curdle in everything left unsaid. Love held her breath as this same silence pressed down upon her, threatening to unearth her with even a wayward cough.

“Take her away–“ Her mentor said finally, and Love’s mind immediately went blank.

“What?!”

“–just for a little while,” Valkyrie pressed, gesturing for him to let her speak.

“I’ll do some damage control here and when she comes back no one’ll be able to draw any connection between her and the God Butcher.”

“New Asgard is her home–“ Thor refuted, a vein on his neck standing out against his flushed skin.

“Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?” Valkyrie pointed at him, equally agitated, “You are her home, Thor– and she can’t even tell you about her dreams. Awful dreams that she’s been having for weeks, by the way. Did you know that?”

He fell quiet at that. Love peeked out from behind the statue to get a better look but all she could see was his back.

“Look, I’m not saying forever,“ Valkyrie sighed when he didn’t respond, “Just for a few weeks at most. I’ll have everything under control before Jane’s funeral.”

Another moment of silence lapsed in the clearing before Thor finally said,

“And you are certain this will work?”

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, Valkyrie gave him a mirthless smile.

“You’ve gotta be more open with the kid, alright?” She fixed him with a meaningful look, “You know as well as I do; she can't trust us if she doesn’t even trust herself.”

Thor replied under his breath, but Love had stopped listening.

Tears had already left tracks down her cheeks, and the pounding in her head, had now begun to echo in her lungs and throat; a drum beating at her insides like a caged animal, begging to be let out.

The sun dipped below the horizon, scraping the sky of all its blue and leaving only violent red gashes and soft pinks in its wake. Love squinted up at this same sky, and tried to get her bearings.

She didn’t know know what she should focus on first, the truth about her father, the fact that King Valkyrie had temporarily exiled her from her only home or, and perhaps the most painful of all, the soul-crushing reluctance with which her Uncle Thor agreed– but before she could decide, the edges of her vision began to turn purple.

This time, when the lasers came, they brought a sharp, burning sensation behind her eyeballs and the taste of iron on her tongue.

Love tried to squeeze her eyes shut but the pain wouldn’t let her, and for a brief moment she could see dark spots floating over a blindingly white background before something small stung the nape of her neck and she blacked out.

When Love came to, she was laying on her back, gazing up at a completely dark sky speckled with little stars and two worried faces peering down at her.

“–an you hear me? Kiddo? She’s not responding–”

“Let me try. Hey, it’s me. It’s Uncle Thor. Can you open your eyes for me?”

“Uncle.. Thor?” She mumbled, squinting vaguely upwards– it felt like someone had squeezed a lemon right in her eyes, and then rinsed it out with salt water.

“There we go. You’re alright.” She felt someone prop her up and resisted the urge to touch her swollen eyelids.

Valkyries face dipped into view twice, once to check her temperature by placing two fingers on her forehead, and once to give her an uneasy look. Thor gave her what he must have thought was a reassuring smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which only raised her suspicions even more.

“What hap–“ Love began, but gasped when she realised what they were looking at.

A crowd of townspeople had gathered around the Jane Foster statue gaping and whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones, and as she stood to get a better look, Love understood why.

A large crack had appeared on the hero’s marble cape, spanning from the very bottom of the statue (where she’d been hiding moments ago) all the way up to its shoulders; the gash brutally disfiguring its craftsmanship.

Love felt a hole open up inside her as she stared at the damaged monument in horror. What had she done?

She spun around, wide-eyed with excuses on the tip of her tongue but felt her throat lock up when she was met with Thor’s gentle gaze instead.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t mean–“

“It wasn’t your fault,” Thor said firmly, putting an arm on the top of her head; a comfort and a warning, Love realised, watching his soft expression shift into a guarded one, as though he expected someone to jump out of nowhere and prosecute her on the spot.

“But I–“

“King Valkyrie!”

Love swallowed her confession as a very short man with a starchy grey goatee and neutral robes stomped up to the monarch and pointed an accusing finger at her. Valkyrie, to her credit, didn’t move a muscle to acknowledge him.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to, Church Keeper,” She replied cooly, tilting her head to one side.

Saying King Valkyrie had a strained relationship with the New Asgard Town Council would be an incredible understatement. Though it had originally been her idea to elect representatives in order to filter through and attend to the town’s problems accordingly (Lady Sif was a council member), the Church Keeper had amassed a large enough following by monopolising the midgardian vote, and wrested control of the local government from her.

While Valkyrie was preoccupied with alien passport documentation and expanding asgardian labour supply chains, the Church Keeper and his cronies had slowly turned Asgard into a tourist trap, complete with an Infinity Conez Ice Cream Parlour, and the mighty weapon Mjolnir on display in the Museum; all while trying to undermine their king’s authority at every turn.

“The statue!” The Church Keeper spat, his raised voice steadily drawing more attention from the other citizens, “It’s cracked!

“Indeed it is,” Valkyrie affirmed, still unmoving, “Thank you for pointing that out.”

“This is no time for jesting, your majesty! We are in danger!”

These words seemed to wash over the crowd and dissipate into a flurry of confused whispering; the inhabitants of New Asgard were still on edge from the whole ‘Taking’ incident, after all.

“Is that so?” Valkyrie unsheathed a dagger from her hip and began to flip it in midair, a careless display.

“Let’s not make any hasty decisions here, Church Keeper– do you have any evidence that what happened to the statue was an act of malicious intent?”

“Well, no, but the perpetrator could’ve been trying to send a message–“

“By leaving marks on a cape?” Valkyrie raised an eyebrow, catching the dagger without looking at it, “Wouldn’t a more effective target be the face? Or the hammer, even?”

“Well, yes, but–“

“And who do you think is responsible for this message? The only people present at the scene were you and I, and, of course, The All-Father, Protector of the Nine Realms, Thor Odinson.”

“Unless–“ she pointed the wooden hilt right below his chin, “–you’re implying that your King had something to do with this?”

Love watched the man’s face swell with every counter-argument Valkyrie threw at him, turning redder and redder until his beady eyes caught sight of her and he lunged forward.

“You! Girl! You were there!“ He hissed, snatching at her forearm, “Did you see anything?!”

Love cried out in surprise but Thor had already put himself between her and the Church Keeper and seized his wrist, in one move.

“Careful,” Thor said pleasantly, tightening his grip enough to turn the other man's face purple, “There’s no need to scare her; she’s only a child.”

“Perhaps you should run along before you make a bigger fool of yourself,” Valkyrie said coldly, tucking the weapon back at her hip.

The Church Keeper harrumphed and made a big show of extricating himself from Thor’s grip, muttering about how this wasn’t over and taking half of the citizens with him as he proceeded to stomp his way back to the town.

“Are we really in danger, your majesty?” A lilting voice asked.

Love popped her head out from behind Thor to see Grace, Axl’s mother and Heimdall’s wife, step forward, tightly clutching her son’s shoulders as though she was afraid he’d disappear if she didn’t.

“Of course not,” Valkyrie’s eyes softened, “The danger is long past us. Jane’s sacrifice made sure of that. I’m sure what happened today was the result of someone’s prank–“

“What if you’re wrong?” Grace pressed, “What if that monster comes for them again?”

Love winced; in all the commotion she’d almost forgotten how exactly she’d ended up here.

Her father - the man who died in her arms - was the shadow man who’d abducted the children of New Asgard; how could she be sure she wasn’t any different?

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the look Thor exchanged with Valkyrie - the subtle dip of the chin that meant I’ll take it from here - and blindly shuffled alongside her uncle as he put a hand on her shoulder and steered her away from Grace, the crowd and the statue.

Once they were far enough that the townspeople had become smudges of colour in the distance, Love stopped and sat on the grass, folding her knees to chest. Thor obediently followed suit, crossing his arms, and the two of them sat in silence for an excruciatingly long five minutes.

“You know, I used to meditate–” He started, ready to launch into a story about his various yoga lessons, but fell quiet when he realised the slight shaking and snuffling sound was coming from the little girl beside him.

“Is something wrong?”

“EVERYTHING–” Love coughed out, trying to brush away the tears as quickly as they spilled down her cheeks, “Everything is wrong!”

“Why didn’t you tell me I’m a monster?”

Thor narrowed his eyes.

“Hey, listen to me,” he gently pulled her arms away from her face, “You are not a monster.”

“Stop lying!” She snatched her hands back and curled tighter into herself, “I heard what King Valkyrie said– she thinks I need to be banished. That I’m dangerous.”

“Come now, nobody used the word banished– more like a holiday–“

“I’m not stupid, Uncle Thor!” She bared her teeth and he fell silent. A few seconds passed and Love began to feel the familiar stirrings of guilt in her stomach before he finally spoke again.

“You’re right,” He admitted, resignation heavy in his voice, “I should have told you.”

Love reluctantly peered up to see Thor staring off into the canopy of trees opposite to them, completely unfocused, like he could see right through them and all the way back to the past.

“The truth is a heavy burden, are you sure you wish to hear it?”

She nodded quietly.

“Alright; your father, was not a monster.”

Love opened her mouth to object but Thor gestured to let him continue, so she closed it.

“He was a man who’d been wronged by the gods,” he recounted, “A disciple of the highest faith, he never asked for a single thing for himself. All he asked was that they protect his daughter when he was gone. That they protect you.”

“But Gods are not kind creatures,” His expression soured, “Even those you’ve looked up to for years, ever since you were a little boy, running through the palace of Asgard..”

She must’ve looked puzzled because Thor quickly changed direction.

“Anyway, you get the point. Gods are incredibly selfish and just the worst.”

“Mhm,” Love supplied.

“Your planet wasn’t fortunate, it was mostly desert with resources being few and far between, not the ideal conditions to raise a child. Something unfortunate happened and you.. fell sick.”

“I fell sick?” She frowned thoughtfully, but Thor didn’t meet her eyes now.

“Yes, it was a.. sleeping sickness. You were trapped in endless sleep.”

“And then what happened?”

“Your father begged the Gods to help, but they were too full of themselves.”

“That’s awful!”

“It is,” he agreed, “So he found another way to help you. He went to Eternity.”

“But what about the kidnappings?”

“Shh– I’m getting to that. He needed the Bifrost to get to Eternity, which means he needed Storm-Breaker.”

“Oh.”

“Your father didn’t believe I’d help him willingly, you see, because he thought I was like all the other gods, so he kidnapped some children–“

“All the children–“

“–all the children,” he acquiesced, “–of New Asgard to bargain for my axe. Jane figured it out first–“

“Dr. Foster knew him too?”

“Uh.. yes. She did. Anyway, you have to understand that your father was very desperate to wake you up–“

“Did my father hurt Dr. Foster?” Love asked, alarmed, “Did he kill–“

“No, no,” Thor shook his head immediately and she let out a relieved breath she’d been holding.

“Jane passed away because of other health concerns.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he sighed, “Now– what was I saying?”

“My father was desperate to wake me up..”

“Right, exactly, so he made a deal with Eternity and exchanged his life for your cure. But not before he made me promise–“

“Made you promise to take care of me, I know that part already.” Love finished half-heartedly, trying to process all this new information.

In hindsight, she probably should have figured it out sooner that her father and the kidnappings were connected, but the descriptions of the perpetrator were so wildly inaccurate, more fiction tan fact, that she didn’t really blame herself.

Love also knew that there were a lot of things her Uncle Thor wasn’t telling her– like why she’d heard Valkyrie mention the term God Butcher, or why Dr. Foster’s death was hailed a sacrifice, but a part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more today.

“Uncle Thor?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’ll become like my father?”

Thor considered the question for so long that she was afraid he hadn’t heard her at all.

“My brother Loki–” he replied finally, “–wanted to be like our father so badly, he destroyed a part of himself because he thought it would make him more worthy. Of approval. Of love.”

He leaned against Love and pulled her into a side-hug. She felt warmth along with the comforting smell of rain, wrap around her and nestle into her skin, into her bones, as Thor pressed a soft kiss onto her temple.

“I don’t know who you’ll become, little one, but I promise to love you the whole way there.”

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sycamorelibrary754 · 5 months

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Guardian Angel

Chapter 10: MacGyver

Summary: Wanda and Monica hurry to Rome to save the team from San Castillo's catacombs while you anxiously wait for news about Wanda and your newfound family.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, asthma, anxiety

Word Count: 8k

A/N: The latest chapter of Guardian Angel is the longest yet. Thanks to everyone who's reading! I'm excited about where the story is headed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Guardian Angel Masterlist

Tony slowly opened his eyes, but all he could see was darkness. The faceplate of his Iron Man helmet slid open, and he heard the dripping sound of condensation. The only indication that he was still alive.

Steve stirred next, feeling the damp air and touching the hard stone floor. He started crawling on all fours and ripped off his oxygen mask, coughing as small pebbles from the drop scraped against his skin.

“Buck, come on. There you go.” Steve tapped his friend's cheek as he started to come around. “Wow,” Barnes gasped as he looked back up at the height of the drop.

Yelena crawled towards Natasha, her face and arms stained with dirt and blood. Despite the pain in her wrist, she began moving the small pile of rubble that had buried her older sister's lower body.

“Are you okay, sestra?” Her voice was muffled under the oxygen mask, but she managed to ask.

Nat slowly sat up and let out a hiss as the pain in her right leg began to hit her. Looking down, she noticed a gash spanning the length of her lower leg, visible through her suit. Although the cut wasn't deep, it was enough to cause her discomfort.

All around them, there was an eerie silence that sent shivers down their spines. The darkness was so thick they could barely see anything beyond a few feet.

Carol quickly sprang into action, helping Peter and Kate to their feet, while Sam and Clint sputtered and coughed as they crawled out from behind a chunk of stone slab covered in a cracked fresco painting that had fallen along with them. The sound of the debris crashing against each other had been deafening, and it had taken them a few moments to get their bearings.

Thor was the last to appear, tossing rubble and rocks aside like Legos. His strength and determination were evident as he worked to clear the wreckage.

“Is everyone alright?” Steve asked the team.

A smattering of grunts and mumbles floated out of the team in response. Everyone was nursing a modicum of injuries, but somehow, all were alive.

"FRIDAY, can you give me an IR scan of the space?" Tony's voice echoed through the underground catacombs.

FRIDAY's response was unexpected. "This is not part of the previously mapped subterranean pathway, boss."

Tony's curiosity was piqued. "What do you mean? Are there any air currents?"

"This catacomb is not accessible to the general public. Therefore, no air currents were constructed at this depth," FRIDAY replied.

Steve had a sudden realization, "How much oxygen is left in the masks?"

"Undeterminable, Captain,” FRIDAY said.

Panic set in as the realization hit them - they were running out of oxygen. "Maria, can you hear me?" Nat urgently called out through her comms, hoping for a response. But all she got was static. "Is comms working for anyone?" she asked, looking around for a glimmer of hope, but no one could get through.

Not waiting for further instruction, Carol swiftly flew up the shaft. The team could hear the distant sound of energy blasts as scattered debris and water droplets fell from above. She returned shortly after, displaying an air of calm anxiety similar to Natasha's.

"We fell at least one hundred feet," Carol reported, removing her oxygen mask. "The top of the shaft narrows, and the passage is blocked by rubble from the fall."

Thor looked around in frustration, "This is ridiculous," he lamented. "I'm getting us the hell out of here," he declared as he started to spin Mjölnir.

But Bruce quickly stopped him. "No, don't you remember what Friday said before the fall?" he said, grabbing Thor's forearm. A core reactor holds the tunnel together. We have no idea what is behind the energy surges. Introducing thunder into the mix could collapse the entire catacomb."

Thor's face contorted in exasperation, "So what do we do now?" he asked, the tension rising.

*^~^*

“How far out are we?" Wanda inquired.

The low and gentle hum emanating from the Quinjet reverberated through the atmosphere as it soared through the endless expanse of the bright blue sky.

"Just a few minutes. Their trackers are still active, but I can't say how long they'll stay online," Monica replied, glancing down at the GPS display.

Wanda wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time she and Monica had been alone together since the events in Westview. Despite the hug they had shared on the loading dock, Wanda wasn't sure where they stood. However, she couldn't bear to dwell on what they might find when they arrived in Rome. She needed a distraction.

"So... how have you been since, well, since..." Wanda began.

"Since you trapped Westview, New Jersey in an idyllic suburban illusion of your grief and turned me into a photon," Monica finished for her, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda buried her face in her hands, feeling embarrassed. "In a manner of speaking, yes," she mumbled.

"I've been okay. After the Hex was dismantled, Fury sent for me. I was recruited into S.A.B.E.R. I've been shuttling back and forth between Earth and the space station for the last year," Monica explained.

Wanda nodded in understanding, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions as she absorbed Monica's words. After a moment, she turned to face her. "Listen, I-"

"You don't need to say anything, Wanda. You already apologized, and I meant what I said that day. I understood how you felt, and given the circumstances and your powers, I would have tried to bring my mom back, too," Monica said, her voice filled with empathy.

Wanda nodded in recognition and gratitude, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders.

"Now, I have a question for you," Monica said. "What's the deal with you and Y/N?"

"Our meeting was pure luck, and now... now I can't imagine my life without Y/N. Losing Vis was a turning point in my life. The world around me crumbled, leaving me and my boys vulnerable and exposed. But I had to be strong and protect them, even if it meant building a fortress around my heart. But Y/N, she shattered the fortress the moment our eyes met. It's weird; sometimes it feels like Vision sent Y/N to me, you know? Like she's my guardian angel."

"That's amazing, Wanda. I'm so happy for you,” Monica declared.

"Approaching target landing zone. Cloaking technology initiated," FRIDAY announced.

*^~^*

Darcy seemed to have an unmatched familiarity with the Overwatch system—she navigated through it with precision and ease, almost as if she had designed and constructed it. You couldn't help but notice how meticulously she calibrated her equipment, making every adjustment with utmost care and attention to detail.

“What kind of data were you seeing before the fall?” Darcy asked.

“Mostly thermostats,” Maria said. “A core reactor holds together the stabilization of the tunnel structure.”

At this point, they could have been speaking a foreign language. You were having difficulty washing off the shock of the last few hours. You were also worried about Wanda putting herself in danger to rescue everyone.

“Why were they all on this mission, anyway?” Darcy continued. “Jack Sparrow doesn't usually push all his Poker chips into the middle of the table for surveillance.”

Maria pulled up the mission file on the screen, "In the city of Rome, there are more than sixty catacombs composed of miles of underground tunnels in which thousands of tombs are found. Currently, only 5 of them are open to the public. For the last month, we have received some unusual readings from the Catacombs of San Callisto. It spans five floors and more than 12 miles in length,” Maria continued. “Despite our best intelligence, we were unsure about what we were walking into because it wasn't publicly accessible. Fury wanted us to be prepared for any contingency."

Darcy caught sight of your zoned-out expression. “Hey, Y/N, you okay over there?”

“Yeah, I just,” you trailed off. “I mean, I make candy for a living. The most dangerous thing I encounter in my day is Harper forgetting to turn off the stove,” you said, starting to get worked up.”

“Y/N,” Maria said, seeing your anxiety rising.

“I just watched the Avengers fall to God knows where, and my girlfriend just left to try and rescue them with her magical powers…. What the hell is my life?”

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” Maria repeated as she and Darcy approached you.

“How can you possibly know that? This is fucking terrifying!” You shouted. “What if we never see any of them again?”

As you were spiraling into a state of panic, Darcy's hand came down hard and made contact with your cheek, jolting you back into the present moment.

“You were spiraling,” Darcy said, patting you on the back with a smile. “All good now.”

Y/N," Maria said as she placed her hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes while you rubbed your cheek. "Everything will be alright. Their trackers are still sending signals, and I just received an update on everyone's vital signs. They're in distress, but they're still stable. Wanda and Monica will find them.”

After a deep breath, you said, "I'm sorry, Maria. I don't know how you guys do this every day,” wiping your hand across your face. “With Natasha down there, I don't know how you're holding it together."

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, and if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Nat doesn’t give up. If anything, this entire ordeal has pissed her off, and she’s even more of a fighter when she’s angry,” Maria said.

You glanced at your watch. "Shoot,” you sighed. It's almost 3 p.m. I have to go pick up Billy and Tommy from school. Please call me as soon as you know anything.”

*^~^*

As you arrived at the boys' school, a sense of nervousness washed over you. You had only met Billy and Tommy once before, and you weren't quite sure what to say to them. You remembered Wanda’s request not to go into detail about the reason for her unplanned departure, so you were hesitant about how to approach the conversation.

Within just a few minutes of your arrival, the sixth-grade class began to come out of the building. It didn't take long for you to spot the twins, carrying their backpacks and books, scanning their surroundings for you.

You called out, "Boys, over here!" Billy and Tommy ran towards you.

“Hi, Y/N, how come you’re picking us up today?” Tommy asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, where’s our mom?” Billy added, looking a bit confused.

“Your mom had to go on a last-minute mission with the rest of the team,” you said, trying not to go into too much detail. “So, she asked me to look after you boys until she gets back. Is that okay with you?”

Billy and Tommy looked at each other, seemingly communicating a message without words, and then turned back to you with a nod. You couldn't help but wonder if they had some secret twin language that only they knew. Either way, you were relieved they seemed alright with you taking care of them.

It felt odd stepping foot in Wanda’s home without her. It was your first time there, and the absence of her presence made the atmosphere feel eerie. However, you took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself to focus on Billy and Tommy.

Once settled, you asked, “Okay, so what do you guys usually do first when you get home from school?”

Tommy and Billy stood in the kitchen, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. "Well," Tommy began tentatively, "Mom usually lets us play video games after school."

Billy nodded eagerly, adding, "And then we have ice cream. It's our favorite snack."

You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. "I see," you said, playing along with their little routine. "And after video games and ice cream, you'll probably get started on your homework, right?"

At this, Tommy's face fell. "We don't have any homework," he admitted sheepishly.

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter. "Listen, boys," you said, adopting a more earnest tone. I know we don't know each other very well yet, and you're probably thinking this is a free-for-all. But you should know I invented the 'I don't have any homework' line," you said, placing your hand on your chest. "I was a kid once, too, you know."

“It was worth a shot,” Billy said.

Why don't you two bring your homework out here, and I’ll fix us a snack in the meantime?” You suggested.

“Okay,” they said in unison before clambering down the hall.

You shook your head at their cheekiness and set about preparing a snack. You sliced up some crisp apples, added a dollop of creamy peanut butter, and poured some refreshing lemonade.

After spending some time helping the boys with their homework, which turned out to be more challenging than you remembered, you decided to tidy up around the house. As you walked into the living room, your attention was immediately drawn to the family photo on the wall. Vision stood tall and robust, with Wanda's arm around him, while Billy and Tommy grinned from ear to ear. The image was a gentle reminder of her life before you. Rather than jealousy, you felt a deep empathy and sorrow for all the hardships and heartbreaks she had endured.

You couldn't help but wonder if Wanda was okay right now. If they were all okay.

*^~^*

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, a soft glow began to spread across the ancient cobblestones of the Appian Way. The air was still and quiet, and the only sound that could be heard was the distant chirping of birds. The surrounding landscape was bathed in a golden light, casting long shadows stretching across the fields and trees. Amidst this stillness, the Quinjet lay concealed in a nearby field. Wanda and Monica walked down the cobblestone path and made their way through the Arch of Dursus, their footsteps echoing in the quietness of the night. The entrance of the San Callisto catacombs suddenly materialized, rising from the ground like an ominous apparition.

The iron gate had been meticulously re-welded shut—Tony’s standard attempt at not drawing suspicion after they entered. Wanda’s hand began to swirl in red.

“I got it,” Monica said, breaking the lock with electrifying blue energy.

The two women donned oxygen masks and walked down the stone stairs into the catacombs, their communications and body cameras crackling to life.

As they descended the steps, their feet moved steadily, one after the other. The count of each step eluded them as they were fully immersed in descending. As they reached the end of the stairs, the first of the tombs revealed itself, emerging from the darkness before them.

Do you feel anything?” Monica asked, “Anyone?”

Wanda shook her head, “Not yet.”

“We’re looking at 90 acres of catacombs to search, ladies,” Maria said over the comms.

“So, you know, it may take a minute,” Darcy added.

*^~^*

Yelena frustratingly turned to Tony, "Can't you fly us out of here? I thought Iron Man could do anything?"

Tony snapped, "Oh gee, I hadn't thought of that blondie. Thank God you finally mentioned it after five hours!"

Natasha intervened, "Take it down a notch, Tony."

Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Don't you think if I could have flown us out of here, I would have done it by now? The energy surges compromised the calibration of the thrusters. FRIDAY is down, too.”

Sam nodded in agreement, "Same here. It's a complete multisystem failure."

Suddenly, Kate's voice echoed off the stone, "Help!!"

Peter dropped from the wall onto the floor, webbing still hanging loosely from the rocks. "I couldn't find any other openings."

Bucky added with a hint of sarcasm, "Terrific. Well, Steve, we died once; looks like it's going to stick this time," he lamented, as he pulled a small flask from inside his leather jacket and removed his oxygen mask.

“Bucky, stop,” Steve sighed.

Clint chimed in, "Hey, give me some of that," as he took a swig out of the flask.

The archer passed the flask to Thor, who reluctantly sipped,” Your human alcohol is so weak.”

Natasha stood and hobbled over to Bruce, the cut on her leg now causing her more significant discomfort.

“Do you want me to look at your leg?” Bruce cautiously asked.

“No,” Nat said, ripping off her oxygen mask. “I want you to get your green ass off that rock and go MacGyver something with Stark to get us the fuck out of here!”

“What’s a MacGyver?” Peter asked.

“It's not a what, it's a who,” Kate responded.

“I've never heard of him,” Peter continued.

“MacGyver is amazing!" exclaimed Kate, her excitement bubbling over. "He’s a super resourceful secret agent who uses his vast scientific knowledge to escape dangerous situations. He uses everyday items like matchsticks, paper clips, and rubber bands to complete his missions.”

Nat's voice echoed through the cramped quarters as she shouted, "Knock it off!" The two young Avengers quieted down immediately, their eyes fixed on her.

Steve took a deep breath and scanned the room, his eyes settling on each of his teammates in turn. "Look," he said, getting everyone's attention. "We don't know how long Wanda and Maria will take to find us, but we must assume they're close. That means we need to stay calm and do everything we can to conserve oxygen in this tiny space and our masks. We don't know what will happen next, but we're in this together, and we're going to make it through."

*^~^*

It had been an hour since the boys had gone to bed. Now that you were finally alone with your thoughts, you couldn't hold back the tears. Your mind was consumed with worry and fear, and you had not received any updates from Maria and Darcy. The silence was deafening, and the longer it persisted, the more scared and anxious you became.

You gazed at your phone, considering calling them, but decided against it. Instead, you wiped your eyes and scrolled through your camera roll, looking at pictures of you and Wanda that reminded youof your favorite memories together.

You suddenly felt like someone was watching you. You looked up and saw Billy poking his head around the corner.

"Hey, Billy. You okay?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Are you?" the young boy asked in return, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your thoughts are really loud."

It took you a moment to realize what he meant, but then it hit you. Of course, like his mom, Billy could hear other people's thoughts. You wondered how often he had to deal with that and how overwhelming it must be.

"I'm sorry, Billy," you said, trying to keep your thoughts in check. "I didn't mean to be so loud."

"It's okay," he said with a shrug as he joined you on the couch. "I'm used to it.”

You sat in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say next. Then, you remembered why you were there in the first place.

"I'm just excited for your mom to come home," you said, trying to inject some positivity into the conversation.

"Same," he said, his face lighting up a little. He scooted closer to you on the couch. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel like maybe you were doing something right.

"You and Tommy love your mom a lot, don't you?" you asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Yeah, she's amazing. She's always there for us," he explained with a smile.

"I can tell," you said, pulling a soft blanket off the back of the couch and placing it over Billy. "She talks about you and Tommy all the time. She's so proud of both of you."

"Really? What does she say?" Billy asked curiously, his eyes widening with interest.

"Well," you began, "she says you're both brilliant, funny, and sweet young men. She admires your sense of humor and your kindness towards others. Tommy is a great athlete, and you like to draw. She thinks you're a very talented artist."

"Mom told you that?" he said, surprised. "I didn't know she talked about us so much."

"Yes, she does. She loves you two very much," you replied, smiling at him warmly.

You followed Billy’s eyes as he stared at the family photograph you admired earlier. "I miss Dad," he said. "Tommy does, too."

"I know you do," you replied. “I’m sorry.”

"We were happy in Westview," Billy said, fidgeting with his hands just like Wanda. "Then, one day, we woke up, and Dad was gone and Mom said we had to go."

"That must have been difficult," you said softly.

"Yeah, at first it was tough," Billy continued, "but then we came here. Mom got Uncle Tony to build us this cool house, and we have a lot of fun.”

You couldn't help but smile as he talked about Wanda. "Your mom is the coolest person I know," you said, and Billy beamed with pride.

"You miss her too, don't you?" he asked, and you felt a pang of longing in your heart.

"You're good, kid," you said with a smirk as you ruffled his hair. "Yes, I miss your mom very much."

“She talks about you too, you know,” Billy mentioned.

Your surprise showed on your face. "Really?" you asked.

"Yeah," he said matter-of-factly. "She says you make her happy, and you make the best chocolate in the world."

You giggled at the compliment, but then you noticed the time. It was almost 2 a.m. "I think we both could use some shut-eye, Billy. We want to be well-rested when your mom gets home."

"Okay," he agreed, climbing off the couch.

But before he left, you had an idea. "Hey, what do you say you and I and Tommy make brownies tomorrow as a treat for everyone when they get home?"

Billy's eyes lit up. "That would be awesome!"

"I think so, too," you said with a smile. "Okay, now, bedtime. Off you go."

Unexpectedly, the young boy hugged you goodnight, and you felt a warmth in your heart. "Thank you, Y/N. Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight, Billy," you said.

*^~^*

Meanwhile, half a world away, Wanda and Monica ventured through the dark and musty catacombs. The eerie silence was only broken by the echo of their footsteps. They had been walking for hours with no sign of anyone. Suddenly, Maria's voice broke through their comms, sending chills down their spine.

“Our last point of contact was down this secondary tunnel just ahead,” she said.

Wanda's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the area. "Watch your step," she warned. "If this is near where they dropped, we're on unstable ground."

As they continued, the walls around them became adorned with ancient symbols and paintings, marking Papal tombs. But their peaceful exploration was abruptly interrupted when Monica came to a sudden halt. "Stop," she said, sensing a change in the electromagnetic spectrum.

Wanda spun around to face her. "What is it?" She asked, her anxiety rising.

Before Monica could answer, the ground began to shake violently, throwing both women to the ground.

As the ceiling crumbled, debris rained down onthe two women. Acting quickly, Wanda summoned her powers to redirect the falling fragments away from them.

“Are you two okay?” Maria asked nervously.

“Yeah, we're okay,” Wanda said as she helped Monica to her feet. “What was that?”

Take a look around," Darcy pointed out. "Do you see those fissures along the walls? Someone is utilizing the catacombs as a natural storage space for geothermal energy. But there is something wrong with the core reactor. It's causing the structure to become destabilized.

Monica's voice trailed off as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "So, in other words, we're..." she hesitated, unsure.

Darcy picked up on Monica's hesitation and completed her thought. "Walking on eggshells. You need to find them, and soon.”

*^~^*

Clint, feeling a tad bit drunk from sipping from Bucky’s flask for the last few hours, began singing to himself, “Nobody knows the troubles I've seen.”

“No, we need to find some physical conductor for the thrusters! We can't use Thor or Danvers down here,” Bruce exasperated.

Clint, not paying attention to the conversation, continued his solo performance, “Nobody knows my sorrows.”

Tony suggested, “We could use Barnes’s arm,” side-eying the super soldier sitting against the wall.

Bruce momentarily thought about it and responded, “That could work. We could use the vibranium and cybernetic implant to hot wire the thrusters”.

“Nobody knows the troubles I've seen,” Clint shamelessly continued.

Bucky, who had been quietly listening, pulled down his oxygen mask so that only his eyes were visible and said, “Come try to take it; I dare you.”

“No one at all!” Clint finally finished singing. Natasha gently coaxed her best friend back into a sitting position beside her and Carol.

Nearby, Yelena, Peter, and Kate sat on the ground. Kate’s head rested in Yelena’s lap, doing her best to clean the cut on the young archer’s forehead.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Kate, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Yelena had attended to Nat's leg gash and now turned to the cut on Kate's forehead. She took out a disinfectant wipe from her vest pocket and dabbed the wound gently.

“Stop moving, and it won't hurt so much, Kate Bishop,” Yelena said, trying to hold her still.

Suddenly, the sound of Peter wheezing broke the blonde's concentration away from Kate's forehead.

"Woah, are you okay, spider?" Her voice was filled with concern as the boy tore off his oxygen mask.

Peter gasped between every word and said, "I don't know, I can't,” he sputtered. “Catch my breath."

Kate sat up nervously, "Hey, what's happening? Where is your inhaler, Peter?"

Peter's voice strained, and his breaths became shorter as he said, "On the jet."

Bruce took charge of the situation, moving Peter into a sitting position against the wall. He placed an ear to his chest and frowned at the raspy, short breaths.

"Peter, look at me," Bruce said gently as he held the boy's face. "Are you certain that you don't have a rescue inhaler with you?"

He shook his head, his eyes filled with fear as each breath became more labored.

Tony quickly turned to Steve and said, "Help me out of the suit."

Steve was confused and asked, "What?"

"FRIDAY is down. I need you to get it off me, do it!" Tony's voice exclaimed anxiously.

Steve found the central seam of the Iron Man suit and tried to pull the chest plate apart, but it wouldn't budge.

"Buck, Thor, help me!" Steve shouted.

The sound of Peter's shallow breaths was drowned out by the metal bending as Bucky and Thor worked to free Tony from his suit.

"It's going to be okay, Peter. Stay with us," Sam said, as he and Carol did their best to keep him calm.

Peter's vision began to blur as his breathing was reduced to a squeak.

"Shit!" Bruce exclaimed, realizing the gravity of the situation.

Tony quickly stepped out of the broken pieces of his suit just as Peter was about to lose consciousness. He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a rescue inhaler. He shook it several times before removing the cap as Nat lowered Peter’s head into her lap. Tony tilted the puffer slightly, angling it down his throat as he gave two puffs into his mouth.

"Slowly breathe in, kid," Tony instructed. "One, two, three, four, five."

Tony administered two more puffs of the inhaler before Bruce listened to Peter's chest and confirmed his breathing had improved.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter whispered as his lungs began to open up. "Where did you get that inhaler?"

From Aunt Mae. It was one of her conditions for you to join the team. I always have it on me," Tony explained.

"You broke your suit," Peter realized.

"It's an easy fix, kid. You're not," Tony smirked.

Peter continued to use the inhaler as Tony kissed his forehead and walked away, his hands trembling.

Kate and Yelena comforted Peter while Bruce examined him.

"You're okay, Peter," Bruce said. "Continue using the inhaler, and when you feel up to it, put your oxygen mask back on." He picked up Peter’s mask, but his eyes widened with anxiety. The gauge was empty, and the light had turned red.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"The mask is out of oxygen," Bruce whispered.

"I'll give you mine," Carol offered, taking off her mask and giving it to Peter.

"Thanks, Carol," Peter said as he continued to use the inhaler.

Steve pulled Bruce to one side. “Be honest with me, Bruce. How much time do we have left?”

"It's hard to say. With Peter's preexisting medical condition, he may have been using more oxygen than the rest of us. I'll check the other masks, but with so many people in this small space—”

“Bruce,” Steve said solemnly.

“An hour. Maybe,” Banner conceded.

*^~^*

Instantly, an avalanche of disordered thoughts rushed into Wanda's mind, emanating from Peter. The intensity of his anxiety was so profound that Wanda had to cling to the wall of the tunnel to steady herself. Overwhelmed with relief and anguish, she burst into tears. It was as if Peter's distress was contagious, and his emotions threatened to engulf Wanda's consciousness. His mind was a chaotic maze of thoughts, all leading to the same inescapable conclusion: they were all going to die.

Monica's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Wanda, what is it?"

Wanda had to grab the side of the wall for support. "Peter. I can feel him; he's close."

It was as if Peter’s thoughts broke the dam, and one by one, the desperation and fear of her teammates came through. But soon, it was replaced with something else entirely: acceptance. They seemed resigned to their fate, and Wanda couldn't help but feel a sense of dread.

“This way,” Wanda said as the two women doubled back.

A dark tunnel forced the two women to duck as they crawled through it. As they forced their way through the ancient passage, they were relieved when it opened into a larger space—rubble scattered everywhere and the feeling of uneven ground underneath their feet.

Maria's voice echoed through the comms, "What do see?"

Monica took a deep breath and replied, "It's much cooler in here." The air around them was refreshing, starkly contrasting the humid air in the rest of the catacomb.

Wanda knelt and placed her hand on the ground, feeling the dampness seeping through her fingers. "The ground is damp, too," she added.

Darcy's ears perked up at their report, and her eyes widened. “This is it! If the water sinks into the ground, it's coming out somewhere.”

Monica took notice of the uneven gravel. “Don’t move,” she said as she phased through the ground, leaving Wanda alone with the team’s thoughts in her head.

*^~^*

Bruce, true to his word, carefully examined all the oxygen in the ten remaining masks. Unfortunately, five more had depleted, leaving the group with only five masks to share. They sat in a circle and passed the masks around, agreeing on five-minute turns, but the adults made sure Yelena, Kate, and Peter had the masks on for a bit longer without saying anything.

As they breathed heavily and coughed occasionally, it became apparent that the air was running out. Suddenly, a low rumbling sound made everyone scramble to the walls. Yelena instinctively reached out for Natasha, who was struggling to stand on what was now most likely an infected cut in her leg.

"Cover your head!" Steve shouted, not sure if it was another energy surge or if the catacombs were finally caving in.

Suddenly, Monica dropped through the stone ceiling and landed on Carol, causing her to grunt in pain. Monica quickly stood up, dusting herself off and helping Carol to her feet.

Kate screamed in relief, "Oh my God, it's Monica!!" and hugged her. Yelena tried to pry Kate off Monica while everyone else watched in surprise.

"You found us," Carol said, hugging her next.

"Actually, Wanda found you,” Monica said as she held Carol. “She heard Peter's thoughts," turning to the young Avenger.

"Thank you for having asthma, you wonderful little arachnid!" Clint said, kissing Peter on the cheek.

"Umm, you're welcome," Peter replied.

"Wanda is here?" Steve asked.

"I knew she could do it," Natasha said under her breath, recalling the day Wanda returned to the compound.

"Wanda," Monica said, pressing her comms closer to her ear. "You were right, they're down here."

"Are they alright?" Wanda asked, her voice a mix of anxiety and relief.

"More or less," Monica responded, looking around at the sweaty, exhausted, and dirt-covered group. "When I give the word, you do your thing."

"Got it," Wanda replied.

"Everyone move away from the center," she instructed.

After ensuring that everyone was safe, she issued the command, "Alright, Wanda. Now.”

The redhead stood still, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her hands and eyes began to emit a bright red glow, almost like they were on fire. As she closed her eyes, your words echoed in her mind.

“The magic that courses through you is the true measure of who you are, Wanda. Don't let a single mistake define you or your legacy."

She focused her energy and channeled her magic to lift the endless amount of heavy rubble that blocked the narrow shaft. As she lifted the debris, the sound of rocks and debris tumbling down from above echoed through the small space. The team looked up as they saw a faint ray of light piercing through the small opening over a hundred feet above them.

Wanda's heart pounded as she floated down, eager to reunite with her family. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Natasha enveloped her in a warm embrace. "No arm tied behind your back anymore," she whispered, her words full of relief.

Tears filled Wanda's eyes as she nodded, overwhelmed with emotion. Then, Tony stepped forward and hugged her tightly. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you, Red," he said, his voice filled with genuine joy.

"Same here, Tony," Wanda replied, a smile spreading across her face.

But their reunion was cut short by Maria's voice crackling over the comms. "You can all exchange pleasantries on the way home; time to rejoin the above-ground dwellers," she said briskly.

Wanda quickly wiped away her tears and, with a wave of her hand, conjured a ladder leading out of the shaft.

After Wanda and Monica checked the stability of the ladder, Bucky, Clint, Sam, Thor, and Carol led the way up. Monica offered her assistance to anyone who needed it.

"Does anyone need a lift?" Monica asked, glancing around at the group.

Tony immediately pointed to Peter, who quickly protested, "What? No, not necessary, Mr. Stark. I'm fine."

However, Tony was quick to dismiss Peter's objections. "Nice try, kid. Your asthma almost killed you. Let the Photon carry you. That's an order," he said, picking up the broken chest plate of his suit and ascending the ladder.

Peter reluctantly acquiesced. "Fine," he grumbled, "but no one tells MJ.”

Monica picked Peter up bridal-style and flew up the shaft, ensuring that he made it to the top safely.

Natasha leaned on Yelena and Kate for support as she hobbled toward the ladder.

"May I offer you a lift?" Wanda asked with a smirk, knowing that Nat would be hesitant to accept help from anyone.

"Do I look like Peter?" Nat replied sarcastically, trying to shrug off the offer.

Wanda's smirk turned into a concerned expression as she noticed the pain she was in. "No, but your leg looks pretty bad, and I have someone on the line who wants to speak with you," she explained, handing Nat her comms earpiece.

Nat begrudgingly grabbed it, knowing precisely who would be on the other end. She put it on and said, "Hi, Maria.”

Maria's voice echoed through the earpiece. "Natalia Alianovna Romanoff! I can see your leg on their body cameras. Let Wanda help you, or I swear to God, you are sleeping on the couch until it heals," she shouted in a stern tone.

Natasha let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that Maria was right. She reluctantly handed her earpiece back to Wanda and nodded in agreement.

"Have a nice conversation, did you?" Wanda teased, noticing the annoyed expression on Natasha's face.

"Shut up, and get me out of here," the Black Widow grumbled.

"Good choice," the redhead said with a smile as she used her magic to lift Natasha out of the shaft. She then turned her attention to Yelena and Kate and gestured for them to follow. "After you."

The last one to leave, Steve smiled broadly at Wanda, his dirt and blood-covered face unable to conceal his immense pride in her.

“Are you going to give me some big hero speech, Cap?” Wanda asked, half-joking.

"Maybe later," Steve replied with a sigh. "But for now, all I want to do is this." He wrapped his arms around Wanda, pulling her close. "Welcome back, Wanda," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

Night had descended upon Rome by the time the team finally boarded the Quinjet. Monica took control of the jet and put it on autopilot, allowing her and Wanda to attend to everyone's injuries. The mood was somber as they tended to the team.

"No more underground missions!" Sam declared loudly, wincing in pain as Wanda wrapped his shoulder. "I mean it. If we need to go underground, Fury can send in the incredible shrinking Scott or use Red Wing. I was chasing ghosts down there, and we still don't know what the hell was going on."

Monica tried to reassure him. "You were probably just hallucinating from a lack of oxygen," she said.

Ha! Probably!" Sam responded, his tone skeptical. "See, that's not exactly comforting. Steve, I need you to make sure this is included in the mission report. We can't afford to overlook any potential threats."

Looking around at the team, Steve agreed with Sam. "I think we could all use some rest first though," he suggested. "We can reconvene in the morning and go over everything in more detail.”

*^~^*

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing on the coffee table. You had decided to sleep on the couch after Billy went back to bed, in case either of the boys woke up again. As you picked up the phone and saw Maria's name on the screen, your heart skipped a beat.

Anxious and nervous, you answered the call, "Maria? Have you heard anything?”

Maria's response brought tears to your eyes, "They're all safe. A bit bruised and battered, but alive. ETA is about 2 hours."

Relieved and grateful, you could feel a weight lifted off your chest. "Oh, thank God… and Wanda?"

"She was amazing, Y/N. You would’ve been so proud," Maria's voice was filled with admiration.

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your cheeks. You asked, "So, what happens now?" while looking around the corner to make sure Billy and Tommy were still asleep.

"Well, they'll have a short debrief when they get back and presumably a visit to the med bay. But I know Wanda will want to see you and the boys ASAP," Maria explained.

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you, "Okay," you said while running your hand through your hair and looking at the clock. "We'll be there."

"Good, see you in a bit, Y/N," Maria said.

"Bye, Maria," you replied before hanging up the phone.

As you were putting the couch back together, Billy and Tommy, still in their pajamas, walked into the kitchen. You greeted them with a warm smile and said, "Good morning, boys! I have some good news for you - your mom is on her way home."

Tommy's face lit up with delight as he exclaimed, "Yes!"

Billy looked at you with curiosity and asked, "When will she be here?"

You checked your watch and replied, "In a couple of hours. I was thinking we could all meet her at the compound. What do you think?"

Both boys nodded eagerly, thrilled at the prospect of seeing their mother again.

Then, you added, "Cool! So, I was thinking, would you like to help me make some brownies to bring as a welcome-home treat for everyone? It's a very special recipe from The Candy Bar."

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for their response. The boys looked at each other, then back at you, with wide grins on their faces. "Yes, please!" they exclaimed in unison.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you were struck by the state-of-the-art sound system that Tony had built into the house. You paired your phone with it and turned on your “Baking playlist” to set the mood for your baking session. Billy and Tommy sat at the kitchen island, eagerly awaiting their tasks. You laid out all the ingredients for your fudgy chocolate brownies on the sleek granite countertop, admiring how they gleamed under the overhead lights.

“Okay,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Tommy, you mix the dry ingredients, and Billy, you mix the wet ingredients.”

You couldn't help but grin as the boys rolled up their sleeves and got to work, their eyes fixed on the recipe book as they measured each ingredient with utmost care.

While the brownies were baking to perfection, you whipped up a decadent chocolate frosting that would add an extra layer of sweetness to the treat. The smooth, velvety texture of the frosting was the perfect complement to the chewy, chocolatey goodness of the brownies.

Once you finished frosting the brownies and placing them in the refrigerator, you checked the clock and said, "Okay, why don't you guys get showered and dressed? You want to look your best for your mom."

In perfect unison, they responded, "Okay." That's when Tommy suddenly zipped away and returned in a split second, ready to go.

"Whoa! That was fast," you said, impressed.

"I know, right? I have super speed, just like our Uncle Pietro!" Tommy proudly announced.

"Ah, your mom has told me a bit about him," you replied, nodding in understanding.

"Well, that's why I'm so awesome at sports!" Tommy exclaimed with a huge grin.

"Actually, that's not true," Billy interjected. "Mom doesn't want him to use his powers while playing."

"Ugh, don't listen to him. Sometimes I use them when she isn't looking," Tommy said, a mischievous look creeping across his face.

"What?! I'm going to tell Mom!" Billy shouted, looking outraged.

"You will not!" Tommy said, pushing his brother playfully.

"Hey, hey, hey!" You stepped between them, breaking up their squabble. "Billy, you can go get ready, and Tommy, how about you help me pack the brownies?"

"Fine," Billy grumbled.

"Okay," Tommy said with a nod.

*^~^*

As you entered the compound, you were informed that the team had already finished their debriefing and were receiving post-mission examinations and oxygen treatments in the med bay, as per Fury's orders. You and the boys patiently waited outside the medical facility, observing as doctors and nurses went in and out.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally caught a glimpse of Wanda. The sight of her filled you with joy, and you couldn't help but smile. Wanda was scanning the room before her eyes landed on you and the boys. The twins' excitement was palpable as they ran towards Wanda with unbridled enthusiasm.

Wanda hugged Billy and Tommy tightly, kissing the tops of their heads. You hung back, holding the Tupperware full of brownies, not wanting to impose on their family reunion.

“I missed you boys so much!” Wanda said, kneeling to hug them.

“We missed you too,” Tommy replied.

“Yeah,” Billy agreed, “but we had a great time with Y/N. She's so much fun, and we made brownies for everyone, see?” pointing back at you.

Wanda glanced back at you, and her eyes lit up with joy upon seeing you standing there. “Hello, my love. I missed you too," she said, pulling you into a warm embrace, and giving you a soft kiss on the lips, which made you blush.

“You brought everyone home,” you said, repeating the words you spoke to her before she left. “I knew you could do it,” you said, as you both tried to hold back tears in the middle of the med bay.

Lost in the moment, Tony's voice brought you back to reality. "Aww! Look at the lovebirds," he exclaimed. You saw Stark walking towards you, holding Pepper’s and Morgan’s hands. He looked a bit worse for wear than the last time you saw him, with a limp, butterfly stitches above his eyebrow, and a cut on his cheek.

You hugged all three of them. "Mmmm, what do we have here?" Tony asked. "Very nice! I don't remember you making brownies for me when I came home from a mission,” turning to his wife.

Pepper shot back, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a little busy running your entire company. If you want brownies, make them yourself."

Natasha appeared next, being pushed in a wheelchair by Maria, followed by Yelena and Kate. Natasha's lower right leg was heavily bandaged, "Oh, Nat, are you okay?" you asked.

"I'm fine," she said, reassuringly smiling as you leaned down to embrace her. "This is all just precautionary."

Maria chimed in, "Right, that’s why Dr. Cho also gave us precautionary antibiotics," doing air quotes, and you couldn't help but laugh at her comment.

"My sister has always been stubborn," Yelena said as she and Kate joined the group. The blonde adjusted the brace on her wrist before hugging you and grabbing two brownies.

"Yeah, you should have seen her down there," Kate added. "It was like the Black Widow on steroids," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around you.

"What was that, Bishop?" Nat asked, giving Kate a suspicious look.

"Nothing," Kate responded nervously. "Would you like a brownie?"

"Mmhm, that's what I thought you said," Nat smirked as she took the brownie.

*^~^*

You joined the team for dinner but retired early to your room, wanting to give the group some space to decompress after a traumatic mission. While resting on your bed, a knock on your door caught your attention, and Wanda poked her head inside.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Were you sleeping?” she asked.

“No, just resting my eyes,” you replied as you sat up with a yawn.

Wanda joined you on the bed, giggling. “Yeah, that's how I usually feel at the end of the day with the boys, too.”

You wrapped your arms around her and kissed her cheek. “The boys were great. It was nice to spend more time with them.”

“They feel the same way, love. To quote them, Y/N is super cool,” Wanda smirked.

“Super cool. I should put that on my business card,” you joked.

“Seriously, Y/N. Thank you. I know two 11-year-old boys are a handful, and I put you in a challenging position, but it means so much to me that I can trust you.”

As soon as the word "trust" was uttered, memories of your parents' dubious actions over the remains of Sokovia and your conversation with Tony flooded your mind. The weight of the past seemed to take its toll on you, and your anxiety was on full display, which the redhead must have picked up on.

Wanda glanced at you with concern etched on her face. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice laced with tenderness and care.

You tried your best to put on a reassuring smile and push the nagging thoughts out of your mind. "I am now that you're home," you replied softly.

Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @bibliophilicbi @darkstar225

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