Author's Note: So. Just a thing. First, I never thought I'd turn Nick Fury into comic relief. But hey, I go wherever the story takes me. Second, this story is now weirdly paralleling some things we've seen recently in Wandavision (fantastic show, in my humble opinion, you should check it out if you haven't already before you read this because, well, SPOILERS). I did plan from the very beginning (yes, years ago) for Wanda to have a prominent role in the last arc of this story, so I've tweaked a few things in this chapter to fit the mental stage of Wanda after the events of WV. She's just left Westview here, though she hasn't gone by herself to the cabin on the lake. Not yet. That's the only thing I altered from my intended original outline. Yeah, so that's it, spoiler warning for practically everything. That said, buckle up for the angst train (cause we're in the endgame now *wink*). Last, but not least: IT'S 4 AM HERE I'VE BEEN WRITING FOR FIVE HOURS STRAIGHT I'M EXHAUSTED AND SLEEP DEPRIVED I HAVEN'T CHECKED GRAMMAR OR SPELLING OR ANYTHING PLEASE IGNORE THE NONSENSE I'LL COME BACK TO IT AND CORRECT EVERYTHING WHEN I CAN sorry thank u bye
Avengers Compound
2023
Spring had finally arrived.
The flowers in the small inner patio of the compound appeared timidly, it almost seemed they were aware that life was no longer the same and they didn't want to bother those who had been left behind with their insolent blossoming. Sometimes, she would go out there, doing nothing but listening to the silence, even on cloudy days, welcoming the pouring rain and sitting quietly with her thoughts.
After all, the fight of Natasha's life ended up being her biggest failure.
So she appreciated the kindness nature was giving her as she passed the courtyard at dawn, even if it was just a cold comfort.
She poured herself a cup of coffee (black, no sugar, a teaspoon of vodka) and proceeded to her daily routine.
First, an hour or two with the bag.
Right hook, left hook, feet left, right punch, right punch, feet right, left punch, left punch, feet left, feet right, jab, jab, right cross and punch, punch, punch.
And repeat.
"Nice footwork, Agent Romanoff", Maria's voice echoed in her mind, and if she closed her eyes she could see her with that cocky smile of hers, just this young, arrogant hotshot, a perfectionist, a workaholic, and also the most handsome human being on the planet. That's how Natasha remembered her that first month Maria arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D (and perhaps The Snap had made her romanticize the memory, but who the fuck cares?). Agent Hill seemed to enjoy messing with her gym schedule, before they had finally become official dance partners, and put on their legendary sparring session shows. Up until then, she would be by herself, alone, minding her own business. She was the Black Widow after all, no matter how reformed she was. No one apart from Barton had had the guts to go up to her. But Maria did, and that was when Natasha began respecting her and detesting her at the same time. She was a jerk, back then. And so was Maria.
Six months later, Natasha was neck-deep in her obsession with Hill but still oblivious, convinced it was all a game, an entertaining pastime, but the more she knew, the more time she spent with Hill, the more it threw her off-balance, the more she lost control over it.
Deep down she knew, even back then, but she still refused to admit that Commander Hill getting on her nerves was attraction in disguise, attraction and desire and fire heating up to a boiling point that finally exploded a few years later in a bathroom at the Stark tower.
She was a moth, Maria was the flame, and they were inevitable.
The rest was history, one that had found an abrupt end at Thanos' hands.
So she punched harder.
"Nice footwork, Agent Romanoff, wanna punch something that punches back?" That smug smirk of hers, that stiff military pose, blue eyes fixed on her movements, taunting her.
As Natasha worked the bag each morning, the memory seemed to get stronger instead of fading away. That's why she kept punching. That's why she concentrated on the right hook, then left hook, feet left, right punch, right punch, feet right, left punch, left punch, feet left, feet right, jab, jab, right cross and punch, punch, punch.
"Nice footwork, Agent Romanoff, wanna punch something that punches back? Or are you too comfortable with the bag?"
The funny thing was that Natasha kicked Maria's ass, hard, that very first time. She didn't hold back, and that gorgeous asshole had the nerve of thanking her for the most fun and also humiliating (Maria's own words) sparring session of her whole life. She thanked her . She praised her footwork again, and her right hook, and her effective guards. And she told her that everything hurt but that she looked forward to doing it again.
"But just give me a day or two to recover, ok? I can't show up to the bridge in crutches. Thanks again, Agent Romanoff."
Her mind remembered through the muscle memory. So she punched. Again, and again, until she couldn't know if what was stinging in her eyes was sweat or tears.
Then, a shower.
She would usually sit at her desk before 8 AM, her hair wet and a second coffee in her hand.
First, she scrolled through her e-mails.
There were always some great highlights: Rhodey's detailed and grammatically perfect political analysis, Okoye's reports on the many Wakandan humanitarian projects across the world (ah, the irony of countries in the face of economic and social collapse with a vast history of structural racism turning to the thriving and technologically advanced African leaders for help)…
And then, there was always Rocket.
"Director Romanoff,
Following Danvers' lead, Blue and I intercepted a ship that smells like the ass of a dead Sakaaran if said piece of shit had been preserved in a gigantic tank of Kree crap for years by that creepy asshole that keeps stupid stuff in jars from all over the 'Verse, you know the one.
Don't worry, I'll give Danvers a piece of my mind in our next conference call. Politely, as you have repeatedly advised me several times.
I hate it here. Please don't ever trust her intel again.
Yours truly,
Your tiny but gorgeous friend, the one smarter than you."
Well, at least he made her smile.
Usually, the days were all the same. She would usually end them with target practice in the evening, exhausting clip after clip and imagining she was putting bullets between Thanos' eyes. Sometimes, Steve would drop by. On other occasions, Rhodey. Pepper would call every now and then, and there were even some rare FaceTime calls to see how fast Morgan was growing. She casually dodged the dinner invitations but Pepper still insisted, probably remorseful for having being kind of distant the first few years after the garden planet fiasco. She understood. It was hard for Tony. It was hard for all of them and there was no handbook to the world after the decimation.
She rarely left the grounds. She had supplies delivered and the few people that needed to find her knew how to do it. It was better like this, this way she could concentrate on the important things. The irony of how the tables had turned didn't escape her and she only wished Fury could see her now, running a secret organization from the shadows.
So when her computer beeped alerting her that someone was at the front gate, Natasha ignored it. From time to time, some nosy fellows would knock, probably paparazzis, she paid them no mind. There were a few fans too, people that left letters and flowers and pictures on the front gate. And then, of course, there were the ones that blamed them. People that simply yelled at the front gate or cried or threw eggs and trash, or even left menacing notes, mad at the Avengers, blaming them for Thanos, for failing, for losing their loved ones. Natasha understood. They had failed, yes, and she understood and never retaliated in any way. She just let them grieve, and she would face them gladly and let them yell in her face if that could take their pain away. But she knew better, so she simply endured.
Still, her computer kept beeping and she had to at least make sure that no one was trying to jump the fence or something worse.
She sighed, opening a new window on her laptop to take a look at the CCTV from the front gate.
There were no stalkers or Avengers detractors in sight. Only a young man with an old, rusty motorcycle, dressed in a uniform from the Postal Service.
Weird, Natasha thought. Maybe it's a decoy. Well, let's play anyway.
She pushed a button and spoke.
"Hello. How can I help you?"
The kid couldn't be older than eighteen and even through the feed, Natasha could see he was visually nervous, startled by the sound of her voice through the intercom.
"Uh… uh, excuse me, I – I have a package for…" the kid babbled, looking at the little package in his hand to check the name on it, "uh… Miss Maria Hill?"
Nat's heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard and breathed in deeply before replying.
"She was one of the vanished," she said simply, her tone as clinical and calm as possible.
The kid opened his mouth a few times but no sound came out, he was struggling to find the correct words if there were any.
"Uh, so sorry to hear that," he stuttered, "the – uh– the protocol establishes that I should deliver this to her next of kin. Any relatives around?"
"She didn't have any family left."
Nat surprised herself at how quickly she had responded, how straightforward she was trying to sound. As if Maria wasn't her whole world. Luckily, the kid's next words broke her uncommitted attempt at being oddly nonchalant about the mention of the love of her life.
"Oh. Then I think…. I think I have to return this to the warehouse."
"No! No, I – I'm her next of kin. I uh – I can take it. I'm uh… I was – her girlfriend." It was time for Natasha to be the nervous one.
The kid blinked at the camera a few times.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Yeah, yeah, the protocol says we can deliver it to significant others. You can take it as long as you sign the policy agreement."
"Ok. Gimme a minute and I'll be there."
Natasha left everything she was doing and hurried to the front gate. She even ran a little to get there faster, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She opened the gate manually and the kid's eyes went wide when he recognized her, even in her sweatpants and black tank top, with her red hair braided and the hint of blonde lingering in her hair tips.
The kid paled and tried not to make eye contact. Definitely not a trap, Nat thought to herself.
"Ah, thank you. Sorry. Sorry to bother you, ma'am."
"Don't worry."
"I was afraid no one would be around. They say this place is – oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have to read you the apology letter before you sign. It's the protocol."
"Go on, kid. I know the drill."
"Yes… thank you, so… uh…" the kid pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket and cleared his throat, "Dear Sir/Ma'am… no, that's not… I'm sorry. Ok… here goes… On behalf of the United States Postal Service, kindly accept our sincere apologies for not being able to deliver your package on time. We genuinely regret the inconvenience caused to you or your loved ones. As you know, the Decimation affected our planet in unprecedented ways. Your package was recovered from an unattended warehouse directly affected by the Decimation, and it is now that we are able to bring it to you. The Postal Service is legally obligated to serve all Americans, regardless of geography, at uniform price and qual– "
Natasha sighed and touched his arm lightly.
"Ok, kid, that's enough. Apology accepted. Consider me informed."
"Of course, ma'am, sorry… I…"
The kid faltered and blinked at her. Now that Nat could see his face closely she knew she was wrong – he couldn't be older than sixteen. The Decimation had endless emotional, economic and social consequences, one of them was that millions of kids that were barely adults by age were pushed into the workforce to support broken families or to fill in the gap left by so many people gone, just gone in the blink of an eye…
"Can I just say – you – you're an Avenger, right? You're the Black Widow?"
That took Nat out of her thoughts rather quickly.
"You know the answer to that," she tried to be as sympathetic as possible, fearing the worst.
"Sorry, ma'am, sorry, it's just… can I just say –" the kid raked his hair with his fingers, looking for the right words, trying to gather his courage, and he did. "I know there are so many people around the world that blame the Avengers for what happened. But for all it's worth, I… I'm one of the grateful. If the Avengers hadn't been around, it would have happened much sooner. Like in New York? You didn't win this time, but you saved us many times before. That's gotta count, right?"
Nat sighed and bit back the wave of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her. It wasn't the right time or the right place.
"We lost when it mattered the most, so I don't think it counts, no. Thank you, though, you're very kind. Too kind maybe."
The kid shrugged.
"Yeah, ah, ok… here. This is yours then," he handed her the package and awkwardly took a few steps back, "I'll be on my way. I'm so sorry for your loss, again, sorry, uh, yeah."
Nat took the small package from his hands and nodded at him.
"Thanks."
The kid didn't move, so Nat didn't either.
"Uh… ma'am?"
"Yeah?"
He looked frantically at his hands and took a deep breath. "This is going to sound weird and you can totally say no but – can – can I have a hug?"
Nat didn't hesitate. She walked to him and hugged him. The kid released a long sigh of relief. That was just the world after the Decimation. Sometimes people would hug complete strangers and go on with their days. Awkward, yes. Also, necessary.
The kid finally released Nat as he sniffled. He tried to hide it. He wasn't successful.
"Sorry. Thank you. Uh, sorry."
Nat nodded.
"Take care out there, ok? And stop apologizing for everything, kid. You're doing good. You're good."
He smiled timidly at her, nodding back.
"Yes, Ms. Black Widow, sorry! I mean, Ms. Widow – ma'am… so– uh, ok. yeah, bye!"
And that was that. The kid left and Nat stood there for a few minutes, with the small package in her hands. It did have Maria's name written on it in long, fancy calligraphy letters. Curiosity got the best of her and she finally went back inside.
Nat put the package inside one of the security scanners she kept in her office. The computer stated it was undoubtedly harmless. No dangerous chemicals, no radiation, no tiny bomb inside. She was almost disappointed.
She was positive the package was just some random thing Maria had bought for her office at the compound. Maybe another Montblanc fountain pen. God, she could be such a snob sometimes.
She sighed at the thought of Maria going through websites and lecturing her on the necessity of a good, reliable pen because half of her job was signing legal documents that spared the Avengers the torture of court hearings and endless lawsuits.
The quill is mightier than the sword, Romanoff, no matter that it's also oh so much boring.
Natasha actually smiled as she opened the package hoping to find whatever fancy thing Maria had decided to waste her money on.
There were only a little black box and a letter. She unfolded the piece of paper and read it with a growing unsettling feeling in her chest.
"Rose Laratta Studio NYC
Designer
April 2018
Ms. Maria Hill
SI Warehouse A-6
1586 NY-9J
Stuyvesant, NY 12173
Dear Ms. Hill,
It's a pleasure to finally be able to deliver to you the ring we've been designing together for months. As you know, we pride ourselves on providing a personalized experience for our customers, and we hope you've enjoyed your journey with us.
Attached you'll find the work of art we hope will grant you an enthusiastic "yes" from your beloved: the Hourglass Shaped Red Sapphire Engagement Ring in 18k White Gold.
The finesse of your design has b– "
Natasha couldn't keep reading.
For one, her vision was blurry as her eyes welled up. She had to reach out to the desk to keep her balance. Then, she put a hand over her chest, fearing her heart might jump out of it. An indescribable pain sat on the pit of her stomach and a sob made its way up her throat.
The Hourglass Shaped Red Sapphire Engagement Ring.
A thousand images came to her at once…
Seventeen years ago, Nick's no-nonsense voice resonating through his office as she regarded the unknown tall brunette next to him with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. "Agent Romanoff, this is Agent Hill. You'll report to her as if you were reporting directly to me. As of today, she's my second-in-command, the new Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."
A playful smirk and a nod directed her way, sapphire eyes filled with confidence, even if she knew her ass was about to be handed to her. "Nice footwork, Agent Romanoff, wanna punch something that punches back? Or are you too comfortable with the bag?"
Their first kiss in the Stark Tower, taking her away from the rest of the team, Natasha driven by uncontrollable jealousy she hadn't experienced before. The kiss was a clash of wills, neither of them fully surrendering to desire. But they would understand, eventually, they would accept that they were inevitable. "Как красиво. Mоя Маша." (So beautiful. My Masha.)
She remembers the hurt, then, the way Maria kept trying to push her away and how she was unable to wrap her mind around it until she saw her torn apart by duty and desire. "It's that simple, Romanoff. Fuck, if you don't like it, I can't do anything about it! This is who I am."
It all changed then. She remembered that first time her body finally trusted Maria completely, overcoming her training and the irrational fears the Red Room had imprinted on her. "Trust me, ok? Let go, sweetheart," Maria whispered softly in Natasha's ear. "Just let go on me, Nat." That was the moment she realized she had fallen irrevocably in love with Maria Hill. But she had kept it to herself, back then.
And then she thought she had lost her forever but Maria came back to her in spectacular fashion, like a knight in shining armor. Sam clapped like a maniac and yelled ecstatically at Natasha the moment they realized Maria was coming to their rescue (again) "It's your girl, Widow!"
Then came the happiest days of her life. "Ok, you're wearing my most comfy shorts and now they're ruined. They shouldn't call you after a spider…" Maria laughed in between kisses as Natasha locked her legs around her waist. "You're a monkey. A Russian monkey. That's what you are. Do they even have monkeys in Russia?"
After that, the sound of so many "I love yous", in English, Russian, Italian. 80's music in the living room and her lover's hips around her own, laughing and enjoying every minute as Natasha taught Maria how to channel her inner Patrick Swayze.
The aroma of Espresso in the morning and wine in the evening, mind-blowing sex at night and confessions until dawn…
And it was all gone.
Natasha's mind stopped replaying all these moments, only to remind her then that she was alone now, in a world without Maria.
She pushed through the tears and the heartache and screamed. It wasn't a sob. She wasn't crying anymore. It was a roar, a burst of rage.
She took the box and opened it.
She knew it had to be beautiful and, oh, she had no idea.
Sitting on the floor, she took the ring in her trembling fingers. It was a simple white gold band. Simple, yes, and also stunning. The center gem was indeed a dark red tinted sapphire in the shape of her Black Widow insignia – an hourglass. It was fixed to the band with a six-prong setting and its sides were perfectly polished.
Without thinking twice, Natasha put it on the fourth finger of her left hand. It fitted perfectly.
Her other hand covered her mouth, praying that somehow the gesture would stop her howls.
They have called her the name many times before, for many, many years. She hadn't mind. It was just a callsign. A dark joke, even.
But she cared then, in that precise moment when Natasha Romanoff understood that it wasn't just a title anymore and that she was, indeed, a widow.
Somewhere in outer space
Skrull Mothership
2023
Fury never was one for luxury and relaxation, but many things had changed for him over the years. A little indulgence wouldn't hurt him anymore. He accepted the contradictions of his life now that he was nearing his seventies. So what if he wanted to be a little more carefree and make every day count while still taking care of business?
The long, excruciating journey to Vormir left him with little to do around the ship, and he knew better than to suffocate Maria by spending every waking minute with her. Carol had already called him out saying he needed to stop his helicopter parenting (whatever the hell that meant)and let Maria breathe a little.
Believe me, I almost fucked up with Monica, more than once, it's important to give the kids room, she'll be fine, just trust her.
Fury had scoffed in disbelieve at his dear friend's unprompted advice.
Because Hill was definitely not his daughter. Yes, he was old enough to be her father, and yes, he had mentored her for more than a decade… Jesus, he thought to himself, has it been that long? He remembered the smart, brilliant young woman he had recruited so long ago. Maria was 24 when she had joined S.H.I.E.L.D., and Nick was suddenly taken aback by this realization. He had forgotten she was that young because she never acted her age, she was all rules and loyalty and duty and efficiency. It was easy for him to take her under his wing and show her the ropes and trust her with his life, metaphorically and quite literally, as proven by the events of the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the assassination attempt perpetrated by Hydra. Through it all, through the hell and high-water of the years, Maria came through and she was the only person he could trust without hesitation.
Fury had seen her grow as a leader, as a decision-maker. He had watched from the shadows with pride as she kept the Avengers together after S.H.I.E.L.D. and he knew the group would've never fallen apart the way they did had she been around after Sokovia.
And then it hit him.
He had watched her fall in love with Natasha. He had watched her fighting it so hard. And he had refrained the urge to meddle so many times because he knew that duty had to be put first, but he had always been secretly rooting for them. He couldn't even imagine a more perfect match. The spy and the soldier. He loved them both, so, so dearly. And he wouldn't hide that anymore.
Danver's right. Motherfucker.
He remembered the conversation he had with Carol about his name, when they first met.
"Nicholas Joseph Fury, you have three names?
"Everybody calls me Fury. Not Nicholas, not Joseph, not Nick. Just Fury."
"What does your mom call you?"
"Fury."
"What do you call her?"
"Fury."
"What about your kids?"
"If I have them, they'll call me Fury."
And it was there, lying under a holographic simulation of a beach, where he finally admitted to himself that his "kids" didn't really call him Fury. They called him sir, sometimes. And Nick. And bastard, occasionally.
He smiled.
Well, he could live with that.
His phone rang. The one that wasn't really supposed to ring. It stopped and then showed a video message notification. He sighed. He knew exactly who had sent that message. Reluctantly, he opened the file, and Talos green face came into view.
"Hey there. I hope your mission is going well. We gave the glasses to Parker, about a week ago, like you said. And, uh, it was very touching, you know? Really, really quite touching."
Fury heard Soren's voice in the background, a warning. "Talos…"
"And, uh, you know, shortly after that, everything kind of went off the rails, and so we need you to come back. Because everyone kept asking me where the Avengers are, and I don't know what to say to that."
Fury sighed deeply as he looked briefly at his coconut drink.
"So, you're lucky–"
That was enough. Fury stopped the video and slowly got up to stretch out as his dear imaginary beach disappeared.
They were close to Vormir, so it was time anyway, he better changed out of his palm trees shirt.
He was positive they were going to succeed. And it wasn't the alcohol in his head (maybe it was), but he knew they would find a way to bring Natasha back. They had to.
Filled with optimism, he walked out of the simulation room.
He clapped his hands and looked around.
"Everybody, back to work!"
No one paid him attention, so he graciously (no) walked to the bridge.
"Who's got my shoes?"
He was greeted with nothing but silence as the Skrull crew kept to their tasks.
"Maria? Wanda?"
Nothing.
"Hill, come on, where the hell are you, kid?"
Someone from the crew took pity on him and pointed at the large bridge overlooking the main deck.
He sighed. That was a lot of stairs.
Maria had been awake for the past twenty-seven hours by the power of sheer anxiety.
The bridge had become her improvised office on the Skrull Mothership but luckily everyone seemed to be fine with that. Or perhaps they just gave up trying to tie her to a proper schedule.
It was understandable no one dared to bother her, though, given that she had made a mess of the place. There were papers scattered all over the room. She had used the windows to hang notes, pictures, reports, and to write burning questions in bright red letters.
The most prominent phrase read: "Soul Stone = Sentient?"
It was only natural everyone had let her be. The place looked like a madwoman's lair. Which, she conceded, was a pretty accurate description.
She went over her papers time and time again. She listened to the recordings of witnesses, allies…
"He looked like a ghost, I don't know, it sounds crazy but it was like that. Like a ghost from a movie, he floated and he had like a black robe all ragged and his face was just a skull, all red. An ugly son of a bitch. He said something about our fathers… he said something like Natasha, daughter of Ivan, Clint, son of Edith. It was fucking creepy, man, it was –"
She was listening to Barton's audio report on Vormir for the umpteenth time when Wanda barged in without a warning, saying something about food and water and the need to stop running herself into the ground.
She wouldn't even try to take a quick nap, the fear of nightmares where she would see Natasha jumping to her death prevented her from trying.
Wanda offered to help, with a quick swipe of her fingers she could bring the gift of dreamless sleep to Maria's restless mind. But Hill politely refused.
"How about I take a bite of that weird-looking Skrull sandwich and you keep me company?" The Commander offered instead.
"I'd like that," Wanda smiled, "the food is not that bad, you know. If you close your eyes you can pretend it's shawarma."
Maria hummed disapprovingly and Wanda chuckled softly.
The Sokovian regarded Hill in comfortable silence as she took tiny bites with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and steadily. This was the closest Hill had been to relaxing on the whole trip, so Wanda would take this as a tiny little victory. Under other circumstances, Wanda would have been fed up with Maria going down this self-destructive path and probably would have used her powers to force her to sleep and eat, but after the events of the past few weeks in the Westview anomaly, she knew better than to force her will on her friend. She was still battling her own guilt, and helping Maria had been the first task on her path to making amendments.
It was strange when Wanda thought about it – in the past, she hadn't considered Hill a friend. A colleague? Yes. They respected each other. Despite her reputation, Maria wasn't the judgmental type. They had spent a great amount of time together back at the Compound in the months after Ultron and before the Accords. The curious thing, Wanda realized, was that their real bonding moments had come through their significant others.
Maria and Vision often trained together. Hill loved the synthezoid's analytical mind and Vis often commented on how Commander Hill's knowledge of international politics and homeland defense strategies was fascinating. Wanda had found them many times in the training barracks constructing bizarre training courses for the rest of the Avengers while commenting the latest news on international affairs. They also had an ongoing endless chess game that they played without a board. Sometimes, Hill would be fidgeting with her phone on a meeting or while having lunch, and Vision would pause for a second and just say "Oh, great move, Commander. Your turn,". Nat had told her that Maria sometimes got emails at three in the morning that would make her go "Oh, no fucking way, you dumb robot. Checkmate? Again!?" Nat also said that Maria loved having him around while they sparred because he would give her tips on how to maximize movements, speed, and damage. Natasha had added that she teased Maria that no matter how much help she had from Vision, she'd never beat the Black Widow without cheating.
When they had to go on the run, Wanda and Vis had seen what being apart from Maria did to Natasha. She kept to herself, her smiles were scattered and a constant frown of worry had settled in her face. It was heartbreaking, and they often commented that even in their poor circumstances, they were somehow luckier than Nat and Maria.
So when Wanda came back to a world without Vision, she raveled in her own pain and loneliness. She was mad, oh so mad. Tony got a proper goodbye. But not Vis. Not Natasha.
She tried to recover his body to no use and then, when she was at her lowest, Westview happened. She never intended to hurt anybody. She never wanted to be controlled by her grief. But at least she'd learned her lesson.
So when Fury called, she didn't hesitate. When she saw Maria with her own eyes, she knew she might as well be staring at her own reflection. The uncharacteristic uneasiness, the lost eyes, the raw, tangled grief.
It was there, in the awkward reunion of what was left of the team, in Wakanda, where Maria had the nerve to apologize for not being there for her before Westview, for not helping. Wanda knew through Fury that Maria was a mess after Stark's funeral. She went off the grid and when Fury found her she was on the verge of an alcohol-induced coma. They both had been alone. So Wanda told her there was no need for an apology, that they both were in pain, and that from now on, they shouldn't shy away from asking for help.
"I'm here if you need me, Maria."
That might have been the first time Wanda had used her name. Not Hill, not Commander, not boss. Just Maria.
That was the moment they became friends, Wanda thought. Probably. Bonded through loneliness and grief, through loss and despair.
And now they were here, in space, together. Thousands of light-years away from home. Going into the unknown, quite literally.
"You know… I never got to thank you."
Maria's voice was but a whisper, and Wanda noticed how she hadn't opened her eyes. At least she was still chewing on a bite of the fake shawarma.
"Thank me for what?"
"For being here. For agreeing to go on this interplanetary road trip that might be a dead end."
Wanda didn't hesitate.
"Nat would be here for me, if it was the other way around."
"Yeah," Hill agreed.
"It isn't a dead-end, though. We'll get her back, Maria."
Hill chuckled dryly.
"I don't know about that," she then pointed at the papers and notes scattered all over the room, "I only have hypotheses. And ghost stories."
Wanda dedicated her a tight-lipped smile. There was little more to say.
Maria inhaled deeply, relieving a deep sigh. Wanda could almost hear her thinking.
"I miss him," Maria confessed then, and Wanda didn't need to hear a name. She knew Maria was talking about Vis, so she tried to not give in to the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. "He would've made sense out of this mess," Hill added simply.
They were silent for a few moments, then Maria sniffled and tried to pass it as a bitter chuckle, "Hell, I even miss Tony."
Wanda smiled at her, fondly.
"It's not fair," Maria whispered to herself, raking her fingers through her untamed hair, "it's just not fair."
Wanda didn't say anything, she couldn't trust her voice. So they just sat there as Maria finished her meal and Wanda chose to help dissipate the moment by walking around the room, reading Maria's annotations. There were pictures of all the Infinity Stones, it was kind of like a big chart with the stones at the center – there were notes on their origins, their locations across time, the people that had interacted with them. Under the Mind stone, there was a picture of Vis and on the corner, in Maria's messy handwriting, Wanda read: "Gave powers to W, was part of V (NOT all of him). Sentient, yes, but with a conscience?"
Wanda reached out and took the picture in her hand. She turned around to Maria, visibly intrigued.
"Your theory about the Stones being sentient… how is it important?"
Maria was downing a glass of water. She shook her head as she put it down on the table.
"Well, it's everything, actually. It's the thread we have to pull once we're in Vormir."
Wanda raised her eyebrows.
"So… we do have a plan for Vormir, then?"
"Not exactly a plan. More like a hunch."
Wanda could swear she had never seen Maria shrug before.
"Commander Hill without a plan and betting it all on a hunch? This is new. Care to share what that hunch is telling you?"
Maria pursed her lips, "Well, since you're my secret weapon, it's only fair," she stood up to join Wanda by the bridge windows.
"So… this guy," Maria pointed a finger at a drawing below the Soul Stone. It was some kind of recreation of a phantasmagorical being with a red skull and the note "Red Floating Guy as described by Barton… stonekeeper?", "...is this guy." She then guided Wanda through a red thread linking the drawing to a picture of one Johann Schmidt, a Nazi official Steve had fought in the 40s.
"How do you know?" Wanda inquired.
"I have no proof, but it makes sense," Maria looked intently at the picture, "see, when Steve recounted his final minutes aboard the Valkyrie, before he went into the ice with her, he said that when Schmidt touched the Tesseract some kind of portal opened and sucked him in." Maria paused and then pointed back at the drawing of the ghostly figure, "Flash forward eighty years and we have Barton's report on Vormir saying there was a red floating guy guarding the Stone. I think the Space Stone within the Tesseract decided to send him there. They chose to punish Red Skull. It can only mean the Stones are sentient, only I don't know to what extent. But I do know there's more to it."
Wanda's eyes came alive with understanding. Maybe Maria really was on to something. Still, there were so many loose ends…
"But Thanos destroyed them all," Wanda recalled, "there are no more Infinity Stones in our present."
Hill shook her head gently.
"That's a false assumption, and you of all people should know that, Wanda."
"Wait… what are you implying?"
Wanda was definitely intrigued now.
"What is the one thing that applies to all beings, no matter how self-aware or intelligent they may be?" Wanda's mind reeled, searching for an answer, "what is the one thing we all act on, on pure instinct?" Maria's eyes shined brightly with a spark of determination.
"Self-preservation?" Wanda ventured.
Maria clapped her hands together.
"Exactly. Self-preservation."
Maria pointed once again at the Stones chart. "The Stones have displayed behavior that taken as isolated events may not mean much, but as a whole, they point to their desire to self-preserve, to survive."
Hill walked to a cluster of pictures and notes about the Space Stone. "The Tesseract giving Carol Danvers her powers. Back in the day, she didn't know that the Space Stone was inside."
On the other side of the room, there were the notes about the Reality Stone. "The Aether, trying to take control of Jane Foster, it ended up being the Reality Stone." Maria's voice was charged with purpose. "You, Wanda, the Mind Stone gave you something, something unexplainable and powerful, you said… you said it made you into something different… what did you call it?"
Wanda blinked.
"The Scarlet Witch," she whispered.
"That's right, the Scarlet Witch, and it left a part of itself within you and within Vision," Maria pleaded with her eyes, trying to make Wanda understand, "all these things, they're not random happenings. They're acts of self-preservation, all of them, all of the Stones trying to leave something of themselves behind so they could preserve themselves, as if they knew that someone, someday, might use them for something unspeakable and then erase them. Like what Thanos did." Hill nervously raked her hair, "and I know that if more than one stone did this, it has to mean that it was something infused in all of them. Only I don't know how the Soul Stone planned to do it but I know it did, I know it had some kind of plan to prevail and it has to be related to the one demand it had, asking a soul for a soul?"
Maria paused then, looking at the pictures of Gamora and Natasha in the center of the Soul Stone chart. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
"That can't be random," she continued, "that's not just a fucking stone being cheeky. There has to be something there, and we gotta start somewhere and I know Vormir is the key. After all, it was its home. That's why I need you, Wanda. You will have to be my eyes where no one else can see. You will be able to see what it left behind."
For several seconds, Wanda was speechless. Maria looked nervously at her, as if begging her to say something.
The sorceress looked back at her friend in awe.
"Wow. You know, when you asked me to come with you the only reason I needed was to help you bring Nat back. But… if you had told me all of this, I'd convinced Stephen to come with."
Maria smiled at her, half sad, half relieved.
"Well, we need him where he is, someone has to prevent the Multiverses from collapsing."
Wanda agreed.
"Yes. But I think you might be right, Maria. The Stones are not gone. Not really. I still can feel the Mind Stone within me. And I hope you're right, and that Vormir gives us answers. Also, I might say I'm very impressed with your detective skills, Commander."
"Well, it's not as much detecting as it is analyzing. Looking for patterns and seeing what others couldn't was what I did best at S.H.I.E.L.D. I just followed the breadcrumbs."
Wanda knew Hill had done a lot more than that, but she didn't protest.
The door opened abruptly then, without warning, and at its frame, Nick Fury appeared in a palm tree shirt, barefoot.
"I think I left them here," he murmured.
Fury walked to one of the couches in the room, completely unbothered under Wanda and Maria's curious gazes.
"There they are!" Fury announced triumphantly.
He sat on the couch, reached to its side, and grabbed a pair of flip-flops. He proceeded to put them on while Wanda and Maria were still quite perplexed.
"So, what are you ladies up to?"
"Um… just – just talking," Maria replied, "where were you?"
He waved his hand in the air.
"Relaxing, you know."
Maria certainly didn't know.
Fury finally had his flip-flops on and stood up visibly satisfied.
"Anyway, Danvers just got back from recon," he announced. "The coast looks clear. She says at the pace we are going right now we'll land in less than seven hours," he began to walk out of the room, as nonchalant as he had entered. "Get some sleep, girls, or I swear to God I won't let you leave the ship when we get there."
Maria and Wanda exchanged puzzled looks.
"Aye, aye, sir."
Hill replied for both of them, old-school style.
That seemed to satisfy Nick, who left the room humming the 1979 classic hit A Message to You Rudy.
Vormir
During the Time Heist
2014
Natasha looked down at the ring on her finger and caressed it with her fingertips, tracing the hourglass-shaped sapphire. She stood with Clint in the cockpit of their ship as they contemplated the landscape of the majestic, purple planet.
"Under different circumstances, this would be totally awesome."
Natasha didn't say anything. She traced the back of the ring with the fingertip of her thumb, and just nodded absently.
"You seeing this? Where's your mind at?" Clint touched her elbow lightly, and she looked back at him, green eyes lost in thought.
"I was just… I was thinking how I was a grieving mess a few weeks ago. And now we're here… presented with this chance."
Clint put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, Nat. We've got this."
She nodded far too fervently. She didn't think she'd been this nervous in her whole life. Not the first time she took a life. Not when she chose to defect to S.H.I.E.L.D. Not even when she kissed Maria for the first time.
She covered her right hand with a fingerless glove and watched as the ring disappeared under the black leather. She was trembling.
"Deep breaths," Clint reminded her, softly.
He kneaded her shoulder and she closed her eyes.
"It's just… it's real now, you know? When we were doing tests… with Scott, with you… it all still seemed like some kind of dream. But now we're here, and it's real, and we really can bring them back if we do this right."
Clint swallowed hard.
"I know."
Natasha blinked back tears and smiled then, "I wish she was here. She would have loved this. The plan, I mean. A time heist? With four teams?" She sighed, and there was a fondness that Barton couldn't help to reciprocate in a smile of his own, "this would've been the mission of her dreams."
Clint scoffed, "Oh, yes, it's like I can hear her in my ear," he cleared his throat and proceeded to deliver the most terrible impersonation of Commander Hill, "Hawkeye, ETA? Hawkeye, secure the asset. Hawkeye, you're a pain in my ass…"
"That was awful", Natasha chuckled gently.
Barton got serious.
"You'll get to tell her. You'll tell her about Lang appearing at the compound yelling nonsense. You'll tell her about Tony inventing time-travel and you figuring out the locations of the Stones. You'll get to introduce her to this new team of weirdos, you'll tell her about Rocket tearing up with Steve's speech – she'll have a blast with that. You'll get to see her again, Nat."
Nat took a deep breath and nodded at her friend, "and you'll see them too."
Clint tried to smile through the emotion he was holding back.
"C'mon," he shook his head and shut his eyes as if to reset his state of mind, "we've got a mountain to climb."
And climb they did.
Ragged and with their legs screaming from the tension of the trek, they stopped for a moment just to catch their breaths.
"Ugh- I bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain," Natasha lamented.
Clint waved a finger in the air and shook his head.
"Technically, he's not a raccoon, you know?"
Nat shrugged.
"Whatever. He eats garbage."
Then, a voice from the beyond.
"Welcome."
They whirled, weapons up, as a hooded figure approached them.
"Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Clint, son of Edith."
Barton looked back at Nat out of the corner of his eye, briefly, before changing his stand. The figure didn't flinch.
"Who are you?" Nat asked, her gun still pointing at the center of the hood.
"Consider me a guide. To you and to all who seek the Soul Stone."
"Oh, good," Nat smirked briefly, "you tell us where it is, then we'll be on our way."
"Oh, liebchen…" the figure approached them, finally letting its face fall in the light. Though a face was not what greeted them. The Red Skull himself stood in front of them. Though the Red Skull as the villain Steve once knew was long gone. Instead, there was only an empty shell, a phantom. The phantom had a sense of (dark) humor, nonetheless. "If only it were that easy," he added before turning towards the arch, inviting Natasha and Clint to follow him.
They did just that, carefully. And when the Stonekeeper reached the edge of the cliff, he spoke again.
"What you seek lies in front of you. As does what you fear."
Nat ventured a look. It was a long way down. Undoubtedly fatal.
"The Stone is down there," she murmured.
"For one of you. For the other…" The Red Skull had the nerve to almost smile it away, "the Stone demands a sacrifice. In order to take it, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul."
They knew what he meant, but they refused to believe it. Barton gestured for Nat to talk away from the Stonekeeper, who just floated there, creepily eyeing them in silence.
"Do you think he meant…?" Clint whispered to her, unable to finish his own question.
Nat raised her eyebrows but didn't say a thing. She massaged at her forehead, suddenly lightheaded. She sat on a nearby log and just began thinking about everything. What little information they had about the Stone. The story Nebula had told them. Tony, Steve, Scott, Bruce, Rhodey, Nebula, Rocket, Thor… all on their respective quests.
She closed her eyes and immediately a memory of Maria came to her without warning.
The house in Casape. The chill of the morning. Being naked against her, making love on a rusty, old garden table…
"Nat…"
Maria let her forehead fall against Natasha's abdomen, focusing all her attention on the pace, listening to every little sound Natasha made to ensure she was on the right path. She felt Nat's fingers twisting her hair, pulling, caving, expressing her approval. Soon they were both panting and sweating against each other, but Maria wanted more. To feel more. To give more. She froze then, halted every movement, still buried inside Natasha.
Nat whined immediately and waited a few seconds. Perhaps it was just teasing, just part of the game, but when Maria didn't make any intention to resume, Nat summoned a strength she didn't know she had to look at her lover.
"Mash… Masha?"
"Nat. You know I love you, right?" Maria blurted out, as if she had the sudden need to state the obvious.
Natasha wasn't expecting that.
"Yes, I know."
She didn't understand either why her eyes filled with tears and she felt herself choking up. It was just… something in Maria's eyes. The way she said her name.
"You know I'd do anything for you. I'd die for you–"
Nat had to close her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Don't say that."
"But it's true, Nat. It's true," Maria whispered back as her hand reached Natasha's lips to trace the lines of her mouth, the curve of her nose, her eyebrows and her cheekbones.
"How's it going?" Clint waved to the Stonekeeper like an idiot, his ramblings bringing Natasha back to the mountain, to Vormir. "Jesus… maybe he's making this shit up."
Natasha stared blankly at the cliff, still trapped in the memory of Maria telling her she'd die for her.
"No. I don't think so," she said, her voice heavy with implications.
"Why, because he knew your daddy's name?"
"I didn't. Thanos left here with the stone, without his daughter. That's not a coincidence."
"Yeah…"
Clint wanted to keep making jokes, delaying the inevitable. But Nat knew better.
"Whatever it takes," she muttered under her breath.
"Whatever it takes," he did the same.
And Natasha hoped that maybe he'd understand. She stood up, resolved.
"We don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead."
Clint nodded. No intention of making jokes. Natasha knew then that he understood. He turned to the cliff.
"Then I guess we both know who it's gotta be."
She nodded back.
"I guess we do."
Clint reached out to her. She took his hand in hers and knew then it wasn't going to be that easy.
"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha."
He attempted a smile. She pressed his hand harder.
"For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing – get to right here. This is all it's been about. Bringing everybody back," when he wavered, she kept pushing, "your family. Maria, Fury, Sam, Bucky, Sharon, Peter… all of them. They, coming back, that's all that matters."
"Now don't you get all decent on me now…"
"You think I want to do it?" He was getting on her nerves, so she tried a different approach. "I'm trying to save your life, you idiot –"
"Yeah, well, I don't want you to, because I– Natasha, you know what I've done. You know what I've become."
Playing the remorseful ex-assassin on Natasha Romanoff's watch was not a very intelligent move.
"I don't judge people on their worst mistakes."
"Maybe you should."
"You didn't."
And that's when Clint should've known he couldn't win. No matter what he did. He still tried. Their skills might not be equal, but their stubbornness was.
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that? What do you think is going to happen when we bring everybody back and the Commander finds out that I left you behind?"
Nat blinked back the tears. She knew exactly what to say.
"She'll know. Because she'd do the same in my place. She'll know it had to be me."
And Natasha believed this, without the shadow of a doubt.
Clint saw so much love in her eyes he almost couldn't choke back the tears. They leaned their heads against each other, and for a moment, Natasha felt it was a real goodbye.
"Okay. You win."
But she didn't believe him, not even for a second.
"You're full of shit," she almost laughed, but there was no time.
She knocked him to the ground with a devastating quick kick to the knee. She held him there with her own knee to his chest.
"Tell Maria I love her," it was not a plea but a command. A request between comrades.
Clint didn't wanna hear it.
"You tell her yourself."
Before he could return the favor of the tackle, Nat fired a widow bite to his chest and made a break for the cliff. She was halfway there, she could just jump and – an exploding arrow knocked her off her feet.
Stubborn idiot! , she thought as Clint locked eyes with her, throwing his arch away, leaping off the edge of the cliff.
Enough was enough.
Natasha tackled him in mid-air. He looked at her baffled as they dropped, together, and Nat took the opportunity of his shock to shoot her grappling line into the cliff. They slammed together into the cliffside, but she had already attached the other end of the grappling line to Clint's belt.
She slid but he reached out and grabbed her. Destiny was sealed.
"Damn you!"
Clint cried in frustration and pain. His arm burned, trying to pull her up. He couldn't. He knew then, but he couldn't believe it.
"Let me go."
Barton shook his head, crying like a child now.
"No. Please, no…"
"It's okay."
It was her voice, the thing that pained him the most. She had made peace with it. How could she? How dared she?
"Please…"
"She'll understand," Nat comforted him, one final time. And then, she kicked the wall, plummeting to the ground and out of her friend's reach.
"NO!"
The world exploded in a white burst of light and thunder and Clint woke up in a pool, with the Soul Stone in his hand.
The rest was history.
The Time Heist would be a success. Natasha's sacrifice would be declared irreversible.
The Hulk would bring everybody back and Tony would die ending the Thanos who jumped to their present from the past.
It should've ended there, perhaps, the story of the planet many called a dominion of death at the very center of celestial existence.
But Vormir still had another battle to witness.
Vormir
Skrull Mothership
2023
Wanda walked into the locker room searching for Maria.
"Wow, love the new look, Scarlet Witch."
She turned around to watch the Commander grabbing her gear from her locker.
Wanda shyly accepted the compliment.
"Well, I'm still getting used to that title."
"I won't use it then."
"No, it's okay. I like it. It's fine."
Maria didn't push the matter. She grabbed a black jacket from her locker. A little black box fell from one of its pockets. She let out an exasperated sigh, her nostrils flaring.
Before she could take the box to hide it away, Wanda noticed everything.
"What's in the box?"
"I don't know," Maria shrugged putting it back.
"You don't know?"
Maria sat down to tie her boots, avoiding all eye contact with Wanda.
"Okoye gave it to me when we were in Wakanda. Said it was… a message, from Nat. She sent it to her before the time heist, with only one instruction – to give it to me if I ever came back. And I just – I don't know. I can't open it. I can't."
"Why?"
It was a simple question, but Maria had to pause and take a deep breath.
"I – I don't know."
"It might be important" Wanda reasoned, "it might be something that could help with this mission."
Maria scoffed and in her faux laugh Wanda saw pain, regret, fear even.
"I have a guess, and if she gave that box away, well… I'm afraid I don't want to know what she intended by that."
Wanda didn't say anything for a few seconds, she just regarded Hill who was struggling pathetically with the laces of her boots.
"Maria… I know a thing or two about denial," Wanda began, carefully. "You're trying to postpone something inevitable. She did something to get this thing to you, whatever it is. So honor her. Open it."
Hill finally gave up on the laces and released a long breath.
"You're right," she conceded, at last.
Wanda nodded.
"I'll leave you to it."
"No!"
Maria shook her head nervously. She looked up at Wanda, suddenly appearing so much younger to the sorceress's eyes.
"Could you – could you stay?"
And Wanda couldn't deny her.
"Alright."
With a less than resolute gesture, Maria stood up and took the box from her locker. Her hands were trembling, and Wanda held her breath as Hill finally opened it.
Inside the box, there was no ring. Only a small squared note, folded inside. Maria took it in between shaking fingers and unfolded it.
There were only three words.
In what she recognized as Nat's handwriting, Maria read "да. Yes. Sì."
In Russian, English, and Italian, as if she was trying to leave no doubt of how she felt about it, Natasha was answering a question Maria never had the opportunity to ask.
Hill covered her face with her hands as she let the empty box fall to the floor.
She couldn't help herself as she cried her heart out. Wanda looked at the box and the note and understood immediately.
Wanda took a few tentative steps and opened her arms to her friend. Maria hugged her back with crashing force, but Wanda didn't mind. Every bit of the pain Maria was feeling mirrored her own. Wanda just held her for long, silent minutes. Hill didn't let go of the note.
Carol found them like that. She didn't clear her throat, she didn't ask if she was interrupting, she just stood there until they noticed her.
"It's time," the Captain announced simply.
Both Maria and Wanda nodded as they took a step back from each other. Hill wiped the tears away with the sleeves of her tactical suit.
"Ready?" Wanda smiled gently at her.
Maria nodded and looked out the window, to Vormir's dark menacing sky.
"As I'll ever be."