( Last one for now sorry for the chapter dump guys and i promise Loki will appear again soon )
The twins were playing in the snow with their father. They had built a couple of snowmen and a snow wall, and now they were throwing snowballs at each other. Vision's snowballs were loosely packed and irregular, and always missed their target. Nat's were perfectly round and never missed. Tommy and Billy were pretty good shots for four-year-olds.
Wanda smiled at them out the window as she heated hot cocoa on the stove.
The twins weren't identical, though they were obviously brothers. Billy resembled Vision more, both in looks and personality, though Vision insisted he saw more of Wanda in both children. Other people said Tommy resembled her, but she couldn't look at him without being reminded of Pietro at his age.
This was a perfect moment: the children's wild laughter as they played, gentle snowflakes drifting down from a beautiful pale gray sky, the cheerful sound of Johnny Mathis singing "Sleigh Ride" playing from the radio, a soft red glow from lights from their Christmas tree in the living room making the house feel warmer than it was. It was their first year having a Christmas tree. Wanda hadn't cared much about the holiday season since her parents died—it had been a time of year she associated with bitter cold, wastefulness, and people around the world enjoying things she would never have—but now that she had children of her own she wanted to make it magical for them. And Vision loved everything about the holidays.
As she turned off the heat and sprinkled marshmallows into the hot cocoa, Vision came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
"I didn't hear you come in," she said, grinning in spite of herself.
"I phased through the door rather than let cold air in unnecessarily."
Her smile faded. "You have to be careful. Someone might have seen you."
"Other than Agnes next door and the boys, no one was near enough to see me."
They had agreed that there was no need to hide their powers from the twins while they were young enough that anything they said could be chalked up to the vivid imagination of children, and when they were old enough to begin to realize other daddies didn't have red faces at home and other mommies didn't levitate vegetables into their children's mouths, they would tell them the truth and teach them the importance of keeping secrets sometimes.
"You're right. I just get worried," Wanda said.
Their old lives were so long ago, the memories so faded and indistict, that when she thought back it felt like someone else's life, like everyone she'd known then, including herself, were people she'd read about in a novel. But sometimes she still feared that someone would find them, that someone would recognize them, that Tommy and Billy would be taken away and experimented on. Sometimes she talked to Vision about these fears, especially if a nightmare woke her up, and he would assure her they would never let that happen. And he was right, of course.
She smiled again, watching out the window as Tommy and Billy looked at each other, grinned.
"Could you go tell them the hot chocolate is ready?" Wanda asked Vision.
"Just one moment." He turned her around and kissed her.
It was so rare that they got a moment of privacy before the twin's bedtime these days that a deep, passionate kiss in the daylight felt like a novel and slightly illicit experience, and Wanda melted. She had to grip Vision's coat to keep from falling over.
After a minute, they finally drew apart. "Do you ever feel like your life is just perfect?" she asked.
"Every day I'm with you," he replied, caressing a strand of hair behind her ear.
He left to bring the twins in—remembering to open the door at the last minute, which made Wanda laugh.
She began ladling the hot cocoa into mugs. Alone with her thoughts in the kitchen once again, she reflected that this life—two happy sons, an adoring and breathtakingly handsome husband, a few close friends, a home to live in, jobs that kept them stimulated and provided enough to live comfortably, though by no means lavishly—was the perfect life for her. The pain, fear, hate, deprivation, vengeance, ldanger, and loss that still echoed from her distant past made her acutely aware of how much she loved a life of peace, quiet, comfort, and love—all things she, back then, couldn't have imagined she would ever have. Other people might think it boring. Those people had no clue.
