A wedding was taking place in the compound. Our wedding. My marriage to Wanda – finally. No one expected our relationship to happen. The day we revealed we were dating shocked faces were spread around our friends. They didn't last for long; a few seconds maybe. Congratulations were given. The day we revealed our engagement, we received applauses and cheers. Embraces enveloped our small figures. The celebration and excitement last a few days before we got the news. Thanos was coming. Half of humanity as in danger.

The plans were rushed. A wedding at the compound. Simple dresses for now. Rings we already owned until…until what? When? If we survived. Wanda agreed we'd have a brilliant wedding once this was all over.

"Everything will be alright sweetheart," I told her one night. When the reality hit us hard. We laid in bed, holding each other. She had turned over to reach my lips to kiss me. My hands were in her hair, her hands slipping under the sheer top I had on. She had passed her thumbs over my nipples; they perked up at her touch. She moved her hand to remove the shirt to have free range. She kneaded my breasts making me moan. She shifted her movements to rid me of my underwear; I opted to not wearing pants that night, the heat being unbearable.

She rolled me onto my back, her hands spreading my legs to slip two fingers into my core, slick with my juices.

"Wanda…"

"Please. If we're going to die, we should at least have one last passionate night. Gemma, I…"

"Alright. I know. I'm scared too. I still believe everything will be okay. I have hope," I told her, bringing her face to mine. That night we made love as if it was our last night together, our last night alive.

Now a wedding was taking place. Among our family. A quick wedding, then off to make battle plans. Traditional, simple. Filled with nothing but love.

"Do you, Wanda, take Gemma as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do,"

"And do you, Gemma, take Wanda to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do,"

"I know pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss the bride," the minister said. We kissed and then the battle took place. We lost. Everything.

5 Years Later

Wanda's POV

Gemma. That's all I think about. Only who I think about. Losing her. A recurring nightmare. Why did the snap take her? Why didn't it take me instead? Everyone lost. Not just me. Steve lost his best friend. Tony lost Peter and Strange, though they only knew each other for a few hours. Thor lost his brother. The others we had come in contact with during the battle lost those they cared about too.

The grief was too much to handle. We had separated, come back together. Hatching a new plan. Get the stones. Bring them back. Bring her home. Gemma had been my air, my world. She had been there for me when others could not or would not.

Another loss. Natasha. On Vormir, apparently. For a stone. A damn stone. More grief overloaded us. We had to keep fighting. One step closer. One snap Bruce had to endure. One snap to bring them back. To bring half the that lost back our world. Please, give me that hope. Give me her hope. A flash of light. A sense off happiness. Chills rush through me. I know this feeling. A familiar feeling, then filled with dread as the building collapses. More fighting.

"You took everything from me,"

"I don't even know who you are,"

"You will,"

I give everything I have, wanting to tear him apart. I channel all of that power and use it to destroy him. To rip him to shreds. He cost me Gemma. He cost me my entire world, my entire being. My love, my life. He's able to send me flying as he rains fire onto my location. I'd been too occupied with the fighting, with the revenge, I hadn't noticed the portals. Created by Strange as it turned out. I hadn't realized she was back. Alive. Not until I heard it. Her voice.

"Wanda! Are you hurt?" That voice. Gemma. Enough to cause my head to turn in the direction from where it came. There she knelt in the ground, the soil. My Gemma.

"Gemma? Gemma!" I shouted, crawling quickly to her. To pull her in my arms.

"You're back. You're alive. You're here,"

"I'm here. What do you day we finish this?" She replied, helping me up. I nodded. The final battle took place. Another one of us down, dying. Tony. After all this, he was the next to go. To rest. The funeral was beautiful. A silent memorial held afterwards by Clint, Gemma and me. For Natasha. The last to go – to live his life – Steve Rogers. A mantle passed down. Three friends gone from the mortal coil. Three friends put to rest. At least I had her. I had Gemma by my side for as long as we both should live.