Second nature
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x female!reader
Summary: You thought that being away from the chaos was the answer but chaos is your long best friend, and it follows you everywhere.
Word count: 7.4k
TW: power imbalance, age gap, imposter syndrome, angst, everyone needs a hug.
A/N: Oh, hi! I cried writting this :)
Song for this chapter: I'm your man - Mitski
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Chapter fourteen: Fracture
"So it's true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love."
“Is she… okay?” Kamala asks with curiosity.
James studies your face for a minute, looking for signs of life. You blink without looking at them.
“Yeah, I think so” he says as you stare intently at what appears to be the most interesting artificial plant in the world.
Kamala shrugs “I don’t know, she’s been looking at that for like ten minutes”
“Do you two realize I can hear you?” You say, eyes still fixed on the plastic.
Kate rolls her eyes with her characteristic annoyance and returns her attention to her phone. Kamala tilts her head, now stepping fully into your line of sight, effectively blocking the plant from whatever silent battle you were having with it.
“I’m aware” she says gently “That’s kind of the point, but seriously, are you okay?”
No, you are not. You couldn’t even sleep right, the sheets were too hot then too cold, your whole body itched and clementine decided it was a good idea to bite your ankle out of nowhere.
Also, the constant pain your back is living under that not even painkillers help now, the giant pile of things to do that keeps side eyeing you (if that thing magically happens to have eyes) the shortage of melatonin gummies in the pharmacy down your street
Oh, and the fact that your boss slash lover slash nothing at the moment is still hammering a nail into your heart.
“Couldn’t sleep, that’s all” You say as you reach for your pack of cigarettes from your bag
Just as you are about to light one, a black van pulls into the service exit. The tinted windows and Stark security stickers slapped on the windshield gives away that’s your ride.
“Damn, I feel important” James says, walking towards the vehicle with a big smile on his face.
The girls follow him, getting closer as the driver makes his way out of the vehicle to greet everyone with a polite nod and proceeds to pick up the luggage already waiting.
Then Agatha and Strange make their appearance out of nowhere like two magicians but just as focused and professional as always. She’s in dark slacks and the purple sweater you could recognize anywhere, her hair up in a loose bun that frames her face perfectly, a few strands of hair falling out of place..
You want so badly to tell her she looks devastatingly beautiful, instead you just look at her with the devotion you are not able to let go. Just… not yet.
“Alright” Strange says, clapping once “Load up. We have a three-hour trip if traffic behaves”
You all move toward the van. James grabs the back row immediately, Kamala slides in next to him, nervously excited and Kate takes the seat in front of them without hesitation.
Which leaves…
You stop mid-step. Front passenger seat taken by Strange. Middle row one seat left.
Beside Agatha.
And you are almost sure the universe likes to torture you this poetically. Your body goes cold in seconds. You consider very seriously faking sudden food poisoning.
You consider volunteering to sit on the floor.
You consider death.
“Dr. y/l/n, you coming?” dtrange asks, still holding the door for you.
Agatha is already seated by the window, laptop bag at her feet, gaze fixed outside like the empty ambulance bay is the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.
You nod and walk toward it like it’s an execution platform.
Every step feels ridiculously heavy. You slide in beside her carefully and deliberately leaving the smallest respectable inch of space between your thighs and hers. You instantly fold your arms, like bracing yourself for an imminent impact
There’s absolutely fucking nowhere else to go.
When the door shuts and the van starts moving, you become hyperaware of everything.
Her perfume, that subtle mix of power and darkness unmistakably hers. The warmth radiating from her body. The faint brush of her sleeve against your arm when the van turns.
You stare straight ahead like you’re about to take a test.
Just three hours, no big deal.
You can do three hours.
For the first twenty minutes, conversation fills the van.
James and Kate argue about surgical approach probabilities. Kamala keeps bombing Strange with questions about everything and nothing and to her luck, Strange answers every single thing. Maybe he’s experiencing the pleasure of not being at the hospital right now.
And Agatha? Agatha says nothing. Absolutely nothing.
So you do the same.
Your hands are clasped too tightly in your lap. You mentally force yourself to relax them.
Don’t be weird.
Don’t be dramatic.
Just exist.
Then a sudden bump in the road jolts the van and your shoulders collide. It’s brief but it’s everything it takes to make you fucking die.
You pull away instantly “Uh, sorry”
“It’s fine,” she says, her tone low and calm. It should feel good, she’s not pissed at you for being in her orbit, but why does it feel like you want to be swallowed by earth for something so innocent as an accidental bump?
Then there’s her silence again.
But you can still feel her there, every breath, every subtle movement. You hate how your body still recognizes her like home. How did you go from knowing every inch of her body, every sound she made, every scar, to apologize for making contact by accident?
After another moment of unbearable quiet, she finally speaks. It’s quiet enough that only you can hear.
“Did you pack the vascular notes?”
Your brain short-circuits for half a second.
Professional. She’s being professional, get it together y/n.
“Uh, yes” you answer quickly “And the updated simulation projections. I ran them twice”
A pause.
“Good, thanks” she says.
“Sure” you manage to say after your mouth suddenly goes dry.
The van fills again with more chatter, but something changes in the space between you. It doesn’t feel fixed or healed but you take every victory, even if it’s microscopical.
An hour passes.
And traffic gets heavier as you approach the outer edges of New York. The skyline slowly emerges in the distance.
Kamala gasps softly “Oh my god”
Even Kate goes quiet.
You risk a glance out the window and instead catch Agatha already looking at you.
Not past you.
At you.
Her expression isn’t cold now. More like complicated, tired and soft in a way she probably doesn’t realize.
And inside your head, for a moment the rest of the van disappears.
“I meant what I said” she murmurs, barely audible over Kamala’s happy squeals and Kate’s sighs.
Your pulse pounds “About…?”
“You don’t owe me an apology”
The words land into your chest with a big force. From having nothing, then everything, then lose her, then… this.
“I still want to give you one” you whisper.
Her jaw tightens slightly. You know it’s not from anger but something different.
“We’ll talk” she says plainly “Not here”
With that, she turns again to the window, leaving you shaken but with something to hold to, hope.
The van slows as it enters Manhattan traffic, the skyscrapers giving you instant megalophobia you didn’t know you had. Stark security vehicles merge ahead of you.
New York doesn’t feel like a dream anymore.
But it feels like a pressure cooker.
James leans forward between the seats “Alright, surgeons” he grins “Let’s try not to ruin one of the most powerful families in the country”
Kamala laughs nervously.
And beside you, Agatha’s hand shifts slightly on the seat between you. Not enough to touch yours but close enough that if either of you moved half an inch, your fingers would intertwine.
You stare at that almost distance.
Three days.
Three days to either fix this or finally break it beyond repair.
You are suddenly brought back to reality when the van pulls into a private underground entrance beneath a glass and steel tower that is screaming power.
Security is seamless. Facial scans, badges pre-cleared, a quiet efficiency that reminds you this isn’t just a hospital consult. This is the epicenter of influence.
You step out of the van and crane your neck slightly.
Above you, the tower cuts into the sky.
Stark Industries.
Agatha steps out behind you. For a second, you’re aware of her hand hovering near your lower back, like she used to do in crowded rooms, ready to guide you.
When it doesn’t land you almost feel disappointed
Inside, the elevator ride up is silent except for the soft hum of ascension.
When the doors open, you’re greeted by floor-to-ceiling windows and a space so polished it feels sterile in a different way than the OR. Everything looks expensive enough to bankrupt a small country.
And then-
“Ah. The brain team has arrived!”
He stands near the center of the room, espresso in hand, tinted glasses effortlessly cool on.
Tony Stark looks exactly like every headline ever written about him. Smaller, arrogant, restless and brilliant. Exhausted in a way only people who run empires are.
Beside him, she’s luminous.
Composed despite the faint pallor beneath her makeup.
Pepper Potts.
Agatha steps forward first. The shift in her posture is immediate professional, commanding, equal.
“Pepper, Tony” she says evenly.
“Agatha, I’m glad to have you back” He replies, his hand extended to her.
She nods and takes the greeting, moving immediately after to when Pepper gets her in a warm hug. Agatha stiffens a little but quickly gives in.
“Maybe not the most convenient situation but yeah, it's always good to have you back” Pepper says, softer than her usual public tone
You can see how despite going through a hard time, Pepper’s smile and kindness is still there. Keeping her strong on her feet.
Strange moves to shake his hand, then introductions start. When it’s your turn, you step forward, pulse steady despite the surreal nature of it all.
Tony tilts his head slightly.
“And you must be Doctor y/l/n”
Your stomach drops at this, but you immediately remember you are about to be part of the team that was assigned to save his wife’s life. Of course he had to investigate every single one of you.
But then-
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Agatha has stated you are one of the best out there"
You don’t need to look at Agatha to feel her go completely still beside you.
“I- uh. Thank you, I hope so” you answer, keeping your voice even.
Tony’s mouth curves “And you know, Doctor Harkness here doesn’t compliment easily. So when she does? I pay attention”
You don’t breathe, you don’t move a single fucking muscle to know Kate must be boiling behind you. Oh, this is going to be such a fun weekend.
Pepper smiles gently at you “Anyone Agatha trusts with my brain is someone I already appreciate”
Trust.
The word echoes and you finally glance sideways.
Agatha’s face is unreadable, but her eyes seem to be shining like never before. And you could drop to your knees right now at the sight of this.
Tony claps once, breaking the moment “Alright. Before we let you all poke around inside my wife’s skull, let’s have a tour then work. Shall we?”
The next hours are fucking intense.
Pepper’s scans illuminate the massive screen. The tumor parades like the main character, it’s alive and scary and thanks to this you forget about the tension for a while.This is what you’re here after all.
Think about how incredible this would look in your resume, how you are achieving these incredible things during your very first year. Just as Billy said this morning when he went to your place to pick up clementine, this is what you have worked so hard for.
The minutes pass and Agatha takes control of the room effortlessly, walking everyone through the approach. Strange challenges her angles as usual, making everything even more interesting and when they agree on something feels like a supernova explosion.
Tony interjects with technological possibilities and some dry jokes. Kamala takes notes like her life depends on it, everyone working in the most perfect sync . At one point, you step closer to the screen to point out some of the highlights in the mapping overlay.
Agatha joins you.
Close.
Heart stopping close.
Her shoulder nearly brushes yours as she leans in to examine what you’re indicating “Zoom there” she says quietly.
You do and her hand rests on the edge of the console near yours. Close enough that you feel the familiar heat radiating from her skin.
“Good catch” she murmurs, just for you.
Your pulse stutters, you don’t dare to look at her.
Because if you do, you might combust.
Across the room, Tony watches you two with unreadable curiosity, you’ll learn soon this guy notices absolutely fucking everything.
By noon everyone is already tired and ready to sleep into a coma, when Tony casually mentions the three time meal waiting for the team. Then, you all are taken to another of the hundred rooms this place has.
The dining space is just as elegant and perfect as everything else but it somehow still feels warm. The incredible windows overlook Manhattan. Food appears almost magically but for some reason none of you touch it immediately.
Even when evidently you all are starving. Then Pepper insists.
“Please” she says gently “I need my team ready for the inconvenient my stubborn head is about to give you, is the least we can do”
That earns a few laughs and no one dares to say no to her. Everyone starts moving , you sit between Kamala and Agatha.
Again, because it seems you two are destined to orbit always into each other’s gravitational field.
Of course.
James is across from you. Kate strategically positions herself near Tony and the conversation starts light, easy. Technology, hospital politics, funding and bla bla bla. You remain silent most of the time, carefully studying your surroundings, not really sure if you should fake a headache and excuse yourself so you can step out from this madness a minute and breathe for the first time in the day.
But before you could even finish that thought, Tony turns to you again.
“So, y/n. I can call you y/n, right?” he says casually as he cuts a piece of salmon. “Top of your class, impossible standards, terrifying work ethic.”
You blink, surprised by all the unwanted attention you are under.
“I-” You try to answer back before getting interrupted.
“Agatha may not say much” he continues “But she doesn’t bring just anyone into something like this”
The table quiets subtly, very, very uncomfortable quiet.
You can practically feel Kate’s death stare and when you look around and meet her dangerous grin, now more than never you want to run
But everyone seems to be waiting for you to answer, and in an attempt of salvation you risk looking at Agatha.
Her expression is unreadable, but her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around her glass.
“I’m part of a team” you answer carefully “Doctor Harkness trained me well”
It’s a safe answer. Professional, neutral but that you know could be used against you if needed but it doesn’t betray how your chest feels like it’s splitting open.
Tony hums, convinced “Yeah. She tends to invest in people she believes in, can even say I am one of the few lucky ones. an the rest of you of course”
He says, trying to fix the fact he casually left half of the team for whatever reason. There’s no way he knows about you and Agatha to make this kind of comment, or at least that’s what you really really wish.
There’s a low chuckle that you don’t have to be a genius to know who that belongs. And as expected when you look at her, Kate’s grin has grown bigger. She knows she has the hand on the knife right now and that she’s not afraid of cutting deep.
So when she straightens and clears her throat, your body goes rigid.
“Inspiring, isn’t it? She says and everyone turns to look at her “Doctor Harkness definitely has a way to push people into excellence”
Pepper notices the unfriendly intention behind Kate’s tone and touches Tony’s arm lightly, giving a subtle warning that he should drop it before things go south.
After this, things get a bit lighter. Conversations pick up again, but everything you and Agatha feels way more unstable than before. Under the table, your knee accidentally brushes hers and either of you move away immediately.
Because you're tired of “almosts” you need her the same way fish need water and plants need sunlight. You feel stupid for using those analogies, but it's true. You need Agatha Harkness to live now.
But against every desire inside you, you pull back first. And you swear you could hear the way her breath hitched at the loss of contact.
-
Finally, after the most tortuous hours, the team makes it to the hotel. Is not too far froM the Stark tower but far enough for you to wash away this heavy day.
The sun is already setting and golden floods the entire city that is already waking for the night. Some of the lights start to make their appearance, people walking down the busy streets making it feel electric and alive.
Inside the hotel, the quiet luxurious marble and glass lobby welcomes you. You suddenly feel the need to walk in your tiptoes to not disturb the peace.
The staff politely greets you all, another team carries your luggage and keys are distributed.
“Two rooms per suite” The manager explains “Shared living space but separate bedrooms for more privacy”
Your stomach drops.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
That shitty one room one bed thing was definitely going to haunt you because the universe hates you that much. Well, not really, because there are two beds, but you know what I mean.
Strange and James are assigned a room together, of course.
And Kate, sweet, petty and son of a bitch Kate, looks you straight in your pale face, takes the next key card and links arms with Kamala, making it clear that they will be sharing. And as never seen in history before, leaves you and your complicated boss slash very complicated situationship together.
Again.
You stare at the keycard in your hand like it personally betrayed you.
Suite 1809.
Agatha shows no outward reaction. She simply takes the duplicate card from the manager and heads toward the elevators.
And you… you follow because what else can you do?
When the elevator doors open she steps inside immediately. To your body, it takes a moment until you can move and when yo do it, you position yourself at the back, in a corner like a scared deer.
You finally have a moment alone with her since you got here. But honestly? You are too nervous to even form a thought, so you realize you will lose the chance to talk again.
When the elevator stops at your floor, the knot in your stomach starts to loosen a bit. The walk to the suite is short and when you step inside, your mind goes blank. The place was breathtaking, large windows that let you see the skyline, the soft lighting bathing the modern furniture and two doors branching off from the living area.
You step inside slowly.
“Holy shit” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
Agatha sets her bag down near the couch.
“Indeed” she says quietly.
You turn toward one of the bedroom doors at the same time she does. You both stop, almost colliding in the center of the living room.
“I- I’ll take that one” she says, gesturing to the left.
“Oh, yeah. Okay” Your voice comes out too soft.
She hesitates for a moment, you can tell. Her hand grips the handle of her suitcase tightly, as if it were an anchor. A struggle rages inside her, something you can recognize all too well because you have always lived with that feeling.
“This…this weekend” she begins, then stops.
And for the first time in the day she looks at you in a way that doesn’t seem forced or necessary, just real. You look back at her, such a sweet image that tastes so bitter right now
“Yes?”
Her gaze drops briefly to your mouth.
Then she forces herself to look back at your eyes.
“We stay focused” she says, her tone perfectly controlled that it scares you “Pepper comes first”
“Of course, totally” you reply, understanding.
But neither of you move and it feels like she’s holding a magnet towards you, because the pull you are feeling right now is painfully strong.
Three steps forward and you’d be in her space, two inches and you’d feel her breath.
But your feet stay in the same place.
You swallow and it feels like your insides are burning “Agatha…”
Her composure fractures for just a second. You realize that you still have the same effect on her just the way she does on you. And for you, still being able to say her name, to look at her, to be around her is a privilege you don’t want to lose.
“Don’t” She says quickly and your chest tightens painfully “Just- not tonight, please”
Because if we start, we won’t stop.
You nod and it’s the hardest thing you’ve done all day.
She turns first, walking into her bedroom and your eyes lock for a fraction of second before she closes the door. You stand alone in the dim living room, you feel as if your chest is about to collapse, like it knows exactly how close you are to losing control.
Three days.
Two days to go and you don’t know how you’re going to survive sleeping twenty feet away from the woman you still love.
You tell yourself to try to relax, though you know it’s impossible. Agatha’s bedroom door has barely clicked shut and the silence feels louder.
You grab your key and decide to stretch your legs because anything else is better than staying here recounting your mistakes. You walk for a while through the hallways until you notice the hotel dining room is quiet, most guests probably still adjusting to jet lag. The soft clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation is comforting, mundane, normal.
Sitting at a small table by the window, you notice James already nursing a drink. He spots you and waves as you make your way to his table.
“Hey, I see you got settled already”
“As it should and call me Bucky, please. James is dead to me in hotel mode”
You chuckle and slide into the seat across from him “Bucky it is. Don’t worry, I won’t resurrect James accidentally”
He raises his glass in mock solemnity “Cheers to that. So, how’s our superstar handling New York?”
You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile “My god. Stop, how do you even know that?
“Oh, people talk. Some of them in a very jealous way”
You freeze “W- what do you mean?”
He lazily stretches his arms “Yeah, in the hospital. Some first year doing what attendings are supposed to do? They have all motives to hate your ass”
You laugh, relieved. Because even when you know you have done everything by yourself, that no one has given you a single ounce of favoritism and that ignoring the undeniable talent you have is not an option to consider to be offended by.
Not when you are about to be part one of the most promising cases you can even imagine. So you just take it and own it.
Surprisingly, the conversation flows easily. You laugh about the absurdity of Agatha’s orders, the quirks of Strange, the insane tech Stark’s pulled out for the case. And it feels normal, relaxing even.
In moments it even feels like you are cheating on Billy, taking advice from someone else, being careless and free for a moment just like you two use to do it always. But you can use a friend right now and honestly? It seems like he does too.
Then, Bucky leans back casually. His arm brushing the edge of the table, that charm everyone talks about making its appearance “So… you want a drink, it’s on me”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly amused “Really Barnes, flirting?”
“Maybe” he shrugs, a cocky but dumb smile still on “Is it working?”
You laugh, leaning back “Sorry, cowboy. I’m very much a girls’ girl, you’re gonna have to find another target”
His grin widens “Fair enough. Hard not to love ‘em, right?”
You nod in agreement “You tell me. But hey, I can introduce you to some good friends from the hospital”
“Everyone but your friend Kate, please” he says “Or chief Maximoff’s son, he's good looking but his mom is terrifying”
You chuckle, you already like this guy “He’s very much taken but I’ll keep my radar wide to find something. Tough my love life is a completely mess, I don’t know if I’m the best for this job”
He laughs warm and friendly, soon the conversation drifts to favorite movies, childhood mischief. You sip a second drink, laughing more than you have all week. By the time you leave, you feel lighter.
The elevator ride back is quiet. Your thoughts drift to the city outside the glass panels, oblivious of your internal battles. The soft ding announces your floor and you step out, heading toward your room. You roll your shoulders trying to ease the tension you’ve been carrying all day.
And then, you collide with someone.
Kate.
She stops dead in track , looks at you with annoyance for a second and then her lips curl “Well, well. Look who’s sneaking back from a little nightcap. Feeling special already?”
You can only sigh, there’s absolutely no energy left in you to engage with whatever the fuck she wants.
She tilts her head, smug, arms crossed “I mean… let’s be honest, y/n. Agatha’s little favorite, right? You get chosen, you get picked, you get…” She gestures vaguely “…everything. Lucky you”
Your fingers curl around your key card. You tried, seriously, you tried to not give this the attention it doesn’t deserve. You apologized to her , yes, she’s not obligated to forgive you and forget everything, you have already understood that. But it gets to a point and finally your patience snaps.
“Enough of this bullshit, Kate. You want something to talk about? Okay, we are not together anymore, So don’t ever imply anything about me being her… favorite” You say, very sure of your words but your voice weaves a bit.
Her smirk only widens “Huh, did she get tired of you? Probably she found a replacement and the all mighty y/n finally got what she deserved for being a bitch”
You want to punch her smug face but your energy is inexistent to be honest “I hate you, I hate what you have become”
Her face goes blank instantly. You know that hit a nerve because it’s the truth. You miss the person she was before all this shitshow, but maybe this is just a way to make you understand that people are not always what they say.
“I hate that you didn’t give me a chance to fix things with you and that I lost one good friend because of that” You say as you take one step closer to her.
You can see how anger grows inside her, in the way her lips are pressed into a thin line, how her eyelids struggle not to let a tear fall.
“You have no right to say or imply that I am what I am because Agatha handed it to me on a silver platter when you know perfectly well that I have worked so fucking hard to get all of this, the things I have lost for all this!”
Finally, you raise your voice a little more, making it clear to her how pissed you are. A small, mocking smile appears on her face and you still don't understand where the sweet, affectionate girl who was there a few months ago has gone, replaced by this.
“Well, now you know you are not that perfect, not like everyone thinks” She says and takes a step closer.
Maybe… Maybe you are indeed the problem.
“Enjoy your little reign while you can, y/n. You're not going to like the fall”
You try to say something back but she interrupts you “Oh, and before your brilliant brain makes a whole thing about this, yes, it’s a warning”
She finally turns and walks away, leaving you with your heart hammering hard. The corridor walls feel impossible tight, you feel trapped and your head spins so fast you feel like you are going to puke. You lean against the door and press your forehead in the wood. You try to slide the key card and fail a couple of times, your hands are shaking with a force you haven’t seen before.
Finally when you manage to do it, you push the door open and she’s already there. Standing in the middle of the living room, just… waiting. Her eyes snap to you the second you step inside.
And your stupid little heart starts beating faster when your eyes meet.
You close the door behind you slowly. For a moment neither of you speaks and you are not sure if you should just say goodnight and go straight to your room, but your mouth acts before you can think about it.
“Hey” you say quietly.
She takes a deep breath like considering everything and nothing at once “Hi”
“Did you- did you heard that?”
Agatha exhales, something almost broken in the sound “Yes”
Your stomach drops “All of it?”
Her lips press into a thin line “Enough, yeah”
There’s no anger in her face and for some reason that’s almost worse.
Instead she just looks… tired.
Sad.
Hurt in a way that shouldn’t haunt her. You drop your bag on the couch and step closer, slowly, like approaching something fragile.
“Can we talk?”
She hesitates, you see it. That instinct to shut down, to protect herself. Then she nods.
You sit on opposite ends of the couch because the distance feels necessary. Your hands twist together in your lap.Stupidly nervous, like a kid that broke her mother’s favorite vase. But you need to grow some courage yourself.
“I’m sorry. For the way I am. For… not trusting you fully. For thinking you’d hurt me when you were just trying to-” you start immediately. The words rush out because if you hesitate you’ll lose them.
Your voice cracks and the burning sensation comes back up your throat “You did your best, handling the thing with Rio. I know you did”
Agatha’s eyes scan your face, like checking if something has changed since the last time she held you.
“I get scared and instead of saying that, I build walls. And that’s not fair to you or a way for me to justify my actions”
The silence that follows surprising doesn't feel weaponized, or crushing or. Because she’s still looking at you and for some reason that gives you courage to keep going.
Then, she inhales slowly.
“I’m sorry” she says.
You blink, surprised. Her voice is steadier than yours, but you can hear something behind. You are about to ask what for when she speaks again.
“For what I said, for implying you were sleeping your way into things. For calling you-”
She looks down, avoiding your gaze because she feels embarrassed even saying this.
“A slut”
The word hangs heavy between you. And it does hurt a bit, but you also know it had to be said once more to know she didn’t actually mean it the first time, even when it was you the one who said it.
“I was angry” she continues, quieter now “And jealous and that’s not an excuse. It was cruel”
You shake your head immediately “Agatha-”
“No” Her eyes meet yours fully now “You deserve better than that. Especially from me”
The vulnerability in her expression steals the air from your lungs.
She looks… aware.
Of everything.
Of the power dynamic, the lines, the risk. And honestly? That terrifies you. Because suddenly you don’t feel anymore in the safe area you have been wandering for a while.
“Being your boss” she says carefully “being in charge of you professionally… that alone makes this complicated. It always will” A humorless breath leaves her “It should matter more than it does”
Your heart pounds, you can feel how your eyes start to burn and your hands are impossibly sweaty.
“But with you” she continues, voice almost breaking “things just don’t seem to follow the rules”
You don’t realize you’ve leaned closer until your knees are almost touching. She looks at you like she’s standing on the edge of something irreversible.
“Is it true?” she asks suddenly.
Your breath catches “What?”
“That you love me”
Everything inside you stills.
You love a lot of things. Tea, movies, fuzzy socks, you love clementine and her smelly tuna breath. You love your friends, your job. You love your family even when they are not here anymore. But most importantly, yes, you love her.
You love her.
You know you do and you know you will for the rest of your life. Because love is like that, even when it hurts, even when it is not materialized, it persists.
Whether you want to or not.
“Y- yes. I love you” It comes out steady, without doubts, without guesses.
Her eyes close briefly, like the words physically hit her.
You wait.
God, you wait.
She opens her eyes again and there’s so much in them , devotion, fear, longing. But she doesn’t say it back. Not because she doesn’t feel it, you can see she does. She’s just terrified.
Agatha slides closer first.
Her hand reaches for yours slowly, like she’s asking permission without words. You let her and instantly her fingers thread with yours. Easy as always, like when you put the final piece of a puzzle and the whole picture makes sense now..
The contact feels grounding and electric at once. But most importantly it feels familiar. You both look at each other like the world narrowed down to this single, fragile moment.
Love.
Fragile and strong at the same time.
Agatha exhales and her free hand comes up to your face. Her thumb brushes softly your cheek, not like she’s memorizing you anymore, because she already knows every freckle, every mole and expression line that is there. She just wants to feel you again the way she used to do it without restrictions.
And you are so starved for her touch that you close your eyes and give in. For a moment you feel like you are floating, everything makes sense, everything feels okay. Until it doesn’t
Because she takes her hand away from you and when you open your eyes she's silently crying. Tears spill from her eyes violently and it scares you.
God, it really does.
“Then…forgive me for what I'm about to do. Please”
She says and you look at her, wide eyes, confused. In two movements her lips are on yours. The kiss is both desperate and soft, like the kind you give when you are not sure if the world will still be there tomorrow.
It deepens just slightly, enough to say everything neither of you can put into words yet.
When you part, your foreheads rest together and for some reason you feel something is coming, your gut never fails to let you know when misery is close. Is still that super power you despise.
You’re still breathing her in, still tasting her, still foolish enough to hope that whatever is coming can be negotiated.
But… it can’t
Her forehead presses to yours one last time and she lets out a breath that sounds like it hurts her ribs.
“I- ” she whispers then stops, the words resting there. Carefully not to spill, not to make it real.
It’s so quiet you almost think you imagined it.
Say it, please. Say it.
It repeats constantly in your mind like a chant, you have told yourself many times that it’s not necessary, that you’ll still love her even if she never says those words back. But you weren’t ready for what came next.
“I care so much about you” she repeats, firmer now, because if she’s going to break you she refuses to let there be doubt about that part “And that’s exactly why this has to stop”
You pull back just enough to see her face and she looks wrecked. Not cold or distant, just destroyed.
“No” you shake your head immediately “Agatha-”
“Yes” Her voice doesn’t rise. It’s worse. It’s steady in that clinical way she gets in the OR. Like she’s cutting into something living.
“We crossed lines. I crossed lines, I am your superior. I influence your career, that alone makes this wrong”
“I don’t fucking care. It doesn’t feel wrong, not to me” You say.
“That’s the problem” Her hand falls from your face, but she doesn’t let go of your other yet.
“I have spent years trying to rebuild my name, after the divorce. After-” She stops herself, then takes a deep breath “After Nicky. I cannot be the surgeon who sleeps with her intern and ruins her life. I cannot have you reduced to whispers in hallways. I will not have your accomplishments questioned because of me”
You feel an intense fire inside you. You know this is because of Kate and it makes your blood boil “I don’t care about whispers”
“Maybe you don’t, but I do. And maybe not now but you will and I can’t-” She swallows and you see the grief layered under this.
The old grief, the one that never really left her. Losing a child, a marriage. Losing herself. And now she’s choosing to lose you before the world can take you from her too.
“You deserve a career that isn’t shadowed by me” she says “You deserve promotions people can’t attribute to favoritism. You deserve not being cornered by someone like Kate and having to defend your integrity because of us”
The mention of Kate makes your stomach twist but you are sure about wour words “It doesn’t matter, not to me. People can talk they- they can say whatever they want. I don’t care, Agatha”
You cling to any possibility of life this has left, because as the seconds pass, you can see how it is dying.
Her fingers finally loosen from yours and the loss of contact feels violent.
“It matters to me, I would burn my own reputation” she admits, tears falling freely now “I would survive that. What people think of me is irrelevant. But I will not let them dismantle you”
You can’t breathe, it’s too much and you think you may pass out. Probably that would be for the best, because you don’t know how much you can handle.
“So this is it?” Your voice is small despite your effort to steady it “You just decide what’s best for both of us?”
Her eyes flash in pain more than anger “No. I decide what’s safest for you”
“That’s not your call”
“It is when my position can hurt you”
You hate how reasonable she sounds. You hate how much sense it makes, you hate that love isn’t enough to override institutional power dynamics and hospital politics and reputations that take decades to build.
And she does the same, because she just decided this minutes ago, when she had to listen to how you were ripped apart by Kate, how everyone was expecting something from you at dinner. How her name will always be tied to you and not the way she would love.
And she was afraid, not for herself, but for everything that would come after. And at that moment, her last act of love was destroying something she had treasured for a long time,
Your love.
“I never meant to jeopardize you” she whispers.
“You didn’t”
She smiles but there's not happiness behind it, just a painful realization “I did, the second I let myself want you”
That breaks something inside you. You stand abruptly, pacing once, twice, because sitting there feels like drowning “So what? We just pretend nothing happened?”
She says nothing, and for a moment everything is completely silent. Her gaze fixed on the floor, as a defense mechanism against herself, because she knows that if she looks at you right now, she might change her mind and she can't allow that to happen.
“I need to transfer you to another attending” She finally says, eyes still glued to the floor “Not as punishment, as protection. I think you’ll do fine with Strange”
Your head snaps toward her “What?! Agatha you can’t be serious”
“It’s not up for debate. And… It had to be done this way, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to talk about it with you before” she says, finally looking at you.
“I don’t regret us, but I do regret the position I put you in” she says softly.
You laugh because in moments like this, when you are being ripped apart is the only thing you can do “You think ending this won’t hurt me?”
“It will” she agrees “And it’s going to destroy me too”
She wipes at her face impatiently, frustrated with her own tears “But I can survive missing you. I cannot survive watching your career crumble because I couldn’t control myself”
You walk toward her without meaning to but stop inches away, so close you can feel her warmth but not touch it.
“I need you to hate me a little, it’ll make this easier” She says, with a faint sad smile
You instinctively place your hands on your chest, as if trying to hold your heart in place and your tears become more intense “I can't, Agatha. Don't ask me to do that, please just-”
Her composure finally fractures. A sob escapes her before she can swallow it down.
“Please-” she says and this time it’s not about forgiveness “Please, let me do this right”
Right.
As if there is a right way to carve out your own heart.
You shake your head slowly “I don’t know how to go back to just being a simple coworker. I only know how to be yours”
The finality in that sentence echoes because that’s the truth. You can’t go back to a life in which Agatha Harkness is just another one of the 8000 million people that exist.
Not your Agatha
Not your love.
She steps back first, knowing deep down this is the best way, she needs you to hate her, to never look back. Because if someone is going to destroy you it should be her. So it is controlled, safe in a way she can manage to keep you safe from everything from everyone.
“I will still advocate for you” she says “I will still write your recommendations. I will still fight for your opportunities. But I cannot be this to you anymore”
You are still speechless, because even when you have a lot of things to say nothing comes out.
“You are the bravest thing that has ever happened to me and I wish I had met you under different circumstances” She adds.
Then, she leans in again. Just to press one last, lingering kiss to your forehead. A goodbye disguised as affection.
When she pulls away, she doesn’t hesitate this time.
She picks up her computer, her glasses, and the nearly empty bottle of wine on the table in front of you.
You don’t move. You’re afraid if you do you’ll beg.
And God, you really really want to do it.
She walks toward her room and when she reaches the door, her hand hesitates.
“Get some rest, we have a long day tomorrow” she says without turning around, finally opening the door.
You stand there long after she’s gone, the imprint of her touch still warm on your skin, the taste of her still ghosting your mouth. You always knew this moment would come, not like this, not so soon, but you always knew it was too good to last.
You've grown up accepting that life will always be cruel to you.
Still, you weren't prepared for how much it was going to wound you.
*
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