New Earth
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: What if the Battle of Earth had been lost? What if you’d lost everyone?
Word count: 1.8k+
Warnings: vague Endgame spoilers
A/N: hello!!! Finals week has been kicking my ass as I enter the homestretch of my last year at uni....seriously...there couldn’t be a worse year to graduate rn lol. But!!! We can do this!!!!!! If you’re in school also, or working from home, or down in the dumps bc I know i’m doing all three we can do this!!!!!!!!!
This is my entry for @startrekkingaroundasgard‘s writing challenge, nicola thank you for waiting for me and happy belated birthday! I also wanted to say that your 4k challenge was my first ever challenge I participated in last summer and...it’s always such a pleasure to write for you 🥺 i’m so happy to have you as a mutual and hashing this piece out was a huge stress reliever for me. Thank you for being awesome and happy belated 23rd! 💛
using the quote prompt, “I believe you even when I know it’s a lie”
Wanda’s arms around you are familiar, intimate as you’re gently pulled from sleep and she cradles you against her chest. You feel her fingertips running through your hair, skimming the line of your jaw. Sunlight filters through her bedroom window to dapple along the sheets of her bed, shimmering against the white comforter like the two of you are underwater, looking upwards to the surface.
My little mermaid. Wanda’s words ease into your mind and it makes you laugh softly, nuzzle into her with drowsiness, girlish and shy.
In a way, it feels like you are underwater, your mind still waking up along with the rest of your body, eyes foggy, hazy as you blink away remnants of sleep and dreams. Dreams you cannot remember, yet you recall a faint feeling of dread, a tinge of uneasiness, like you’d woken up once in the middle of the night from a nightmare and the primal sensation is all you’d been left with. You think you see darkness and fire, a vague memory, but the image fades from your mind like all bad dreams in daylight.
Clarity flows into your senses as you stretch, feel your joints pop, refreshed.
“How did you sleep?” Wanda asks. She gazes down at you, hazel eyes tracing the contours of your face. Your heart squeezes a bit in your chest, clenches together at the thought of waking up to her like this for the rest of your days. It makes you smile, makes you drink in the sight of her. Her strawberry blonde curls, aglow in the morning light, the flush of her skin, her delicate freckles.
Her beauty leaves you breathless, like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again, falling in love all over again. You tuck a strand of red behind her ear, let your fingers linger at the skin of her neck.
“Good.” You say.
“Yeah?” she smiles back, leaning into your touch, kissing your hand. “Well, isn’t that good.” She looks almost relieved, a flicker of respite behind her eyelashes, and then it’s gone. You think nothing of it as you stretch again, feeling content and happy with Wanda in bed beside you and the prospect of a bright new day.
Did you have a mission today? A co-op with Steve, or training with Carol? You can’t seem to remember. Judging by the leisurely morning and Wanda’s mellow demeanor, you assume you have no schedule. Surely, she would have woken you earlier if you had.
“I could use some coffee. Come with me to the kitchen?” You ask her.
Wanda kisses your exposed shoulder. “Anywhere for you. Breakfast sounds wonderful.”
The two of you change into loungewear, a welcome change from your uniforms, and pad through the corridors hand in hand. The morning is quiet and sunny, illuminating the glass hallways of the Avengers facility like a glittering citadel. You can hear birdsong and the rustling of treetops and branches in the summer breeze, hushed and peaceful, like the day is only beginning and just for you.
The spacious island kitchen is empty when you arrive. You and Wanda forage through the refrigerator and pantry as you brew coffee and put fresh bread into the toaster and soon enough, you have a feast laid out on the granite countertop. A hearty breakfast with European flair; coffee, jam, cold cuts and cheeses, tomatoes, cucumbers, yogurt, honey. The two of you graze away at your meal, in no hurry to be anywhere other than in each other’s company.
Then, you see the figure of a small child, a girl with bouncing red curls, giggling as she runs into the room. The suddenness of it hits you with a wave of unfamiliarity, a strangeness you can’t quite place, until she leaps into Natasha’s arms with a delighted squeal and your uncertainty evaporates. Of course, Natasha’s little Roza.
Natasha is joined by Steve, Sam, and Bucky, all four dressed in sweats and athletic gear, no doubt just finished with a training session. Seeing them all together fills you with a sense of glee, like you haven’t seen your friends in ages, reunited after a long journey. You feel a breathless smile tug at your lips, one that is mirrored by them when they see the two of you. You don’t know why, but tears prickle your eyes.
Natasha stands and settles Roza against her hip, while Steve and Sam amble over to the countertop and swipe at some of your food. The hug Steve gives you is warm and full and you bury your face into his chest, feel the weight of his arms around you, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. But Steve, ever sharp Steve, peers into your face.
“Are you alright?” he laughs. You nod as he cups your face, blinking hard as your tears slip down your cheeks.
“Absolutely,” you sniff. “I..I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Because Steve let you sleep in? No training for you today?” Sam suggests with that crooked smirk. You chuckle and slug him in the arm. Sam feigns hurt, wiggling an eyebrow. “She seems fine to me, Steve.”
“I’ll still kick your ass, Wilson.” You say and wipe at your eyes. His throaty laughter is like music to your ears, prompting you to echo him. You feel Wanda’s arm slip around your shoulders, a kiss to your temple.
“Roza, Малыш, did you say good morning to everyone?” Natasha asks in that motherly tone that makes Roza bashfully hide her face in Natasha’s waved bob, just as fiery, just as vibrant as her daughter’s hair. Roza shakes her head.
“доброе утро,” Bucky smiles. He wiggles his pointer finger like an inchworm at her in a friendly wave. Roza giggles again, all shyness gone, opening up to Bucky like a delicate flower as she waves back. She has his eyes, blue and clear and with a softness that speaks of benign happiness, a love for life. Bucky takes her next, swaying as they parade around the room.
You can’t help but notice the tanned skin of his arms, the flexing muscles that hold her so gently, protective. There’s another hint of uncertainty as you gaze at the swell of his biceps, his forearms, like there’s an absence of something, but Roza’s peels of laughter shake off your suspicions as he peppers kisses into her hair. Steve and Sam leave you to join Nat as they head for the elevator. Roza waves goodbye to you and Wanda as she’s carried away, blowing kisses. You pretend to pocket them.
The kitchen is quiet again. You eat in comfortable silence, but one that is soon broken when you see the front door open and the sight of another familiar figure, one that again fills you with an odd sense of homecoming, another sting of tears.
“Hey! Sorry to burst in, I gotta be quick so I don’t miss my train,” gasps Peter, fresh faced and like sunlight personified. He’s dressed for school, backpack slung over his shoulders, chest heaving. “Have you seen my suit? Shuri said the upgrades would be done by now and I really can’t wait to see it.”
You look to Wanda, eyes still glistening. “Shuri?” you ask.
Wanda smiles softly, cradling her face in her palm. “Try the med bay. She should be down there.”
Peter grins and shoots a thumbs-up. “Thank you!” he dashes past, backpack jostling.
“Peter!” You call with a slight tremor in your voice, tossing an apple in his direction. “Breakfast!”
He catches it deftly with a swish of web. “Most important meal! Thanks!” you hear him say as he too disappears further into the Avengers facility.
Again, peaceful quiet and the two of you chuckle. You find Wanda’s eyes as she interlaces your fingers together, rubs her thumb across the back of your hand. You smile, a bit wobbly, watery, but brimming with a happiness that blooms inside you, threatening to burst forth out of your chest. Something you can’t quite explain. A perfect morning, companionship.
There’s a part of you that wonders who will come to see you next, who will greet you, like a little game of you and Wanda waving hello as you sit at the kitchen island, a bubble of paradise. Like tourists as people come and go around you.
You don’t want to leave this granite island. You find yourself thinking of it as a tether of sorts, an anchor to this happiness for you, for them. Then, your chest tightens, your breath comes shallow. You feel your lips quiver and your thoughts turn cold, unhappy just as clouds pass over the morning sun and the kitchen is thrown into shadow.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” Wanda asks. Her voice is edged, concerned. You shake your head and the tears that spill forth shine like glass.
“Why did they have to leave so soon? Why can’t we all eat breakfast together?”
**
The atmosphere on this planet is thin, thinner than Earth. Carol banks through the glowing maroon sky like a streaking comet, her final watch for the day, before touching back down to the surface in a flush of iridescent purple, clouding up red smoke. She passes Thor, Valkyrie, and a handful of others, those whose powers had faired strongest in the Battle of Earth. Those who’d survived.
This galaxy, lightyears from Earth, has been thankfully quiet since The Milky Way’s obliteration. Today, like many since that fateful day, has been eerily quiet, the skies still and calm. Carol doesn’t know whether to take this as a fortunate or ominous omen.
Carol’s still shimmering with prism afterglow when she finds Wanda at your side, leaning over you as you lay slumped against meteorite and rock, eyes spinning with scarlet light. Carol hates seeing you like this; limbs and jaw slack, eyelids drooped, and Wanda weaving false dreams and visions into your head like red thread. Carol swallows hard.
She’d seen how you had screamed with pure fire and bloodlust in your veins when you’d found the crumpled bodies of your friends on the battlefield, eyes blown bright with so much power and grief and rage. Wanda had been the only one able to subdue you as she’d wrapped light and crimson around you, forcing you down into the dirt as you’d buckled, catching you in her arms as you’d sobbed with so much pain and heartache, clawing at their lifeless bodies, refusing to let go. Carol saw Wanda break too that day as she held you, trying to keep you calm. And so, Wanda calmed you in the only way she knew how; by building you a perfect dream world. A prison, a paradise.
“That’s a hell of a way to have her live, Wanda.” Carol’s voice is carefully controlled as she gazes down at you, feels her own resolve begin to crack like marble. You tilt your head in her direction, but you cannot see her, eyes hazy and blank. She thinks she sees you smile.
“But it is a way.” Wanda murmurs. She smooths your hair out of your eyes, let’s her fingers cup your cheek.
