Just The Two of Us - WandaNat

The sun streams through the kitchen window, casting a warm, golden glow on the countertop as I slice through the fresh vegetables. A lighthearted tune escapes my lips, a melody of anticipation and joy. I can't help but feel a flutter of excitement; any day now, Nat will return home. She has to—I'm certain of it. The mission was supposed to last two weeks, and that time has already come and gone. The thought of her homecoming fills me with hope, making the mundane task of chopping vegetables feel almost magical.

After finely chopping the vegetables on the cutting board, I gently tilted the board towards the bowl. Using the flat side of the knife, I carefully guide the colorful pile of diced pieces, watching as they effortlessly slide off the edge of the board and tumble into the bowl below.

That's when I hear the sound that makes my heart leap with joy: the jingle of keys. I set down the utensils and rush to the hallway, my heart pounding with anticipation. There, standing in the doorway, is the love of my life. But my happiness quickly turns to concern. Something is terribly wrong. Her posture is tense, her body covered in dirt and blood. Her eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, are empty and distant. It's as if Natasha isn't really here.

I walk towards her and reach for her hands, something she doesn't even seem to register. "Nat, moya dorogoya… what's wrong?"

Her eyes meet mine, searching for something. I don't know what it is, but apparently, she finds it, because she throws herself into my arms and goes completely limp. I quickly call upon my magic to prevent her from hitting the floor. With a combination of magical energy and physical strength, I manage to drag her to the sofa. Gently, I lay her down, her head resting on my lap. Her body feels so fragile, and I can sense the weight of her exhaustion.

"I'm here Natasha. You're not alone." My voice is but a whisper, gentle and reassuring, letting her know that I am here with her. The warmth of my presence and the steady rhythm of my voice are my silent promises that I will always be by her side, no matter what she has endured.

I'm not sure how much time passes as I stroke her hair and whisper soothing words, but suddenly her voice reaches my ears. It's so quiet that it takes a moment for me to realize it's Natasha speaking.

"What did Yelena tell you about becoming a Widow?"

I continue stroking her hair, pondering her question. Something must have happened to bring her to this place, to make her ask me this. The least I can do is take her seriously. I search her eyes for any hint of what she's feeling, my mind racing to piece together what could have led to this moment. Gently, I hold her a little closer, offering her all the comfort and support I can.

"She told me that only 1 out of 10 girls become a Widow, and that the others are killed."

Minutes of silence follow, Natasha stuck again in her haunted memories.

"Be happy she didn't tell you the whole truth." Her voice breaks as she reaches the end of her sentence.

She turns to her side, curling up and throwing her arms around her knees, pulling them tightly against her chest. Her body forms a small, trembling ball, and I can feel the depth of her distress. I continue to stroke her hair, my heart breaking at the sight of her so vulnerable. The room is filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by her soft, uneven breaths as I stay by her side, offering quiet reassurance and unwavering support.

I wait, for however long she needs me to. I am here for her, not letting go, not leaving her side.

"It's true... Only 1 out of 10 girls became a Widow. Only the strongest survived; the others were killed. They tested the girls against each other constantly, and every time, the winner had to kill the loser. If you refused, you were killed as well. That's how the one who survived was created."

Her voice is strained and filled with pain, each word a heavy burden she has carried for so long. As she speaks, the horrifying reality of her past becomes clearer, and my heart aches for the little girl who endured such cruelty. I hold her closer, wishing I could erase the memories and bring her peace.

"Wanda…" Her voice breaks, and as I look at her, for the first time, I see tears glistening in her green eyes. "I killed so many innocent girls."

I pull her close, noticing how small and fragile she feels in my arms. "Shhhhhhtttt moya devushka (girl)." I whisper softly. "I've got you." I gently rock her back and forth, allowing her to hide away from the reality of her past.

I don't know how long we stay like this, frozen in time, but I start to notice small changes. Natasha's breathing becomes a bit deeper and steadier. Her arms, once tightly wrapped around her knees, begin to relax, and some of the pallor fades from her face. Gradually, a hint of color returns to her cheeks. These subtle signs of her calming down fill me with a quiet relief, and I continue to hold her gently, letting her know with every moment that she is safe and loved.

That's when she decides to sit up, shifting to sit next to me with her head resting against my shoulder. Her body feels a bit more at ease, and I know that the worst has passed. Sensing that it's safe to ask, I softly inquire, "What happened today, Nat?"

At first, I think she didn't hear me because she gives no sign that she did. But then a sigh escapes her lips, and she looks down in defeat. The weight of her day seems to settle over her shoulders as she gathers the strength to respond.

 "During our mission we came across a brainwashed Widow, still under the control of the Red Room. Yelena did not have the opportunity to free her yet. I tried Wanda, I really tried to safe her. But she went after Barton and I… I had to kill her. I killed a Widow, just like I did back then. I'm a monster." Her voice breaks as she says these last words.

I grab one of her hands in my own, and with my other hand, I gently lift her chin so she looks me in the eyes. "Natalia Alianovna Romanova, you listen to me right now. You are many things, including stubborn and a spoiled brat at times, but a monster is not one of them. You tried your best to save her, but in the end, you had to choose, and you chose to protect your best friend. That's a decision nobody can blame you for. Now, I do not want to hear one more negative word about my girl, do you hear me?"

She gives me a sad nod, and I place both hands on either side of her head, gently but firmly, ensuring she's locked in and forced to look at me. Her eyes are filled with pain, but I want her to see the truth in mine.

"If it was not for you, Natasha, I would still be a girl with magical powers lost in her own hurt, going on a rampage, destroying the world around her. You didn't just save the world from me; you saved me from myself. And every day, you continue to do so. You are the sun in my life, the warmth that fills me, the reason to keep going when it gets tough. You are the example of who and what I strive to be. So please, never forget how amazing you are, because you are so, so amazing. If there's anyone who's a monster, it's the people who put you through all that, not you. You are a beautiful being, and I love you so, so much. Please, never forget this…"

A soft smile crosses her lips. "Thank you Wanda, I love you."

"And I love you Nat… More than you will ever know."

I pull her close and for now, this is enough.

Just the two of us.

Just the two of us

Building castles in the sky

Just the two of us

You and I