Well, no one has said, “No, I don’t want to read your fanfics, Mithril.” Looks like I might as well post them, huh?
I did not realize until I was rereading this story to make sure it had been edited to my satisfaction that I basically ignored Vision in the course of this tale. I at least mention by implication Iron Man before actually naming him, but not Vision. Granted, I am pretty sure I wrote this before Christmas of 2016, so I still had faith in the MCU’s next phase doing right by the fans. I expected to have more to work with when the next set of films where Team Cap and Team Iron showed up to give me more material to work with.
Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. This little story is a bit of an orphan as it was supposed to be set in the timeline of the films, so it leaves a variety of items hanging. It ties in to the previous two fanfics that I wrote after Age of Ultron, though; it is part of that “canon” or universe. I believe canon matters, so I will always tell you what is canon which of my fics are set in, whether they’re my own Alternate Universe (AU) or this more-or-less film-accurate series.
Anyway, here is the story, which I’ve decided to title Not Alone. Enjoy, readers!
Until next time,
The Mithril Guardian
Not Alone
by The Mithril Guardian
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Wanda had only been to the Barton family’s old farm once, at Easter. Their new house, nestled in a forest, had been chosen by Clint as an optimal hiding place. He had made sure the brush was kept back from the home and, with a little help from Wanda, Steve, and Sam, had added booby traps around the property.
Lila and Cooper knew where they could and couldn’t play, keeping Nathaniel within bounds when he came out of doors (it was too cold for him today). So there was no chance of them setting off the snares. The three men had also made certain that, if an animal were to trigger one of the traps, it would have to be an exceptionally smart one.
The house was not quite as large and sprawling as their previous abode, but it seemed to need almost as much work. At least, according to Clint it did. Laura had jokingly asked Steve when he would be taking her husband out on another mission. “If you don’t get him out of here soon, he may rip down half the house!”
“No I won’t,” Clint had rejoined smugly. “Just the back balcony, maybe the back porch…and the wood shed.”
Rolling her eyes, Laura had swatted her husband good-naturedly on the arm before going inside to tend to Nathaniel. Cooper and Lila had then started a snowball fight, and the outdoor activities had spiraled out from there.
At the moment, Wanda was helping Lila to build a snowwoman. Using her power, she lifted the ball which would serve as the head and set it into place.
Their snowwoman was not as big as the snowman which Clint, Cooper, and Sam were currently building. Both girls knew that. But Lila was absolutely determined that it would be the prettier of the two if it could not be the bigger.
Wanda watched her throw a glance at her father, brother, and Sam, who were just touching up their snowman. “Do you think we could give her some hair?” she asked.
Shutting one eye and putting her tongue between her teeth in mock concentration, Wanda used her powers to carve long, curling locks into the ball which formed the head of their snowwoman. Lila watched the process with wide, wondering eyes. “I love how you can do that, Wanda! It’s so beautiful!”
“Thank you,” Wanda said as she finished the hair, smiling with pleasure. The little girl often paid her such compliments. Once, Wanda had believed she did so at her father’s suggestion. But as she had gotten to know the girl, she had realized her mistake. The child had a mind of her own, and when she gave someone a compliment, it was because she meant it.
A tingle worked its way up the back of Wanda’s neck to her forehead. It was not easy to fight the instinct to turn toward the porch in answer to the silent summons. She knew he wanted to talk to her, but signaling that she knew would mean the others would learn it as well.
Wanda’s lips pulled together in a nervous line. She was not sure how they would react if they saw her wave at him. Best he waited until she was ready. To his credit, he was being very patient.
Reaching up, Lila placed a couple of small stones in the snowwoman’s head for eyes. A carrot followed suit for the nose, and then Wanda helped her put in rocks to make the snowwoman’s smiling mouth. An old scarf and sunhat made the finishing touches. At Lila’s request, Wanda carved arms in the snowball which made their creation’s midsection, adding a couple of rings in lieu of mittens.
“Those are impressive,” Steve said as he came into the yard. He was carrying an armload of firewood, a testament to the work Laura had asked be done for the family. Steve had volunteered before anyone else could and Wanda suspected he had done so to allow the children more time with Clint. He had been with the team for most of the last two months, and Steve wanted him to make up for lost time – whether the archer liked it or not. As far as she could tell, he was enjoying it immensely.
Steve smiled now at the Barton children. “You kids are great artists.”
“Hey, what about me?” Sam asked faux petulantly.
“Come on, Wilson, we’re all kids to him.” Clint shot Steve a wicked grin.
Steve gave him a mild nod in return, his mouth curving slightly in amusement as the children giggled. “Touché, kid,” he answered pointedly, which made Cooper laugh even harder. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I can already smell dinner. Think we ought to go in?”
“What do you guys say?” Clint asked, looking at his children.
Lila’s response was to dash toward the house, her mirth forgotten. She was followed closely by Cooper, who tripped as he raced after her. He came up with a wad of snow in his hand, which he tried to throw at his sister to slow her down.
Wanda caught the makeshift snowball midair with her power and brought it arcing back to her hand. “Race fairly, or not at all!” she admonished. Cooper gave her a look that was half-chagrined, half huffy. He appeared so much like his father that she had to bite back a laugh. “Go on, she’s winning!”
That made him turn and chase after Lila. “Besides,” Wanda added softly, “I need the ammo!”
Turning on her heel, she threw the projectile at Clint, who ducked to avoid it. Sam leaned back out of the way as well. The snowball arced past him….
And hit Scott Lang in the helmet as he grew to normal size. “Whoa!” he shouted, his voice muffled.
He was so startled that he landed on his rear in the snow. He clawed at the Ant-Man mask, removing the snow from it, while the rest of them laughed. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe place!” he muttered as he took off the front half of his helmet.
“Nice shot, Wanda!” Clint said, clapping her lightly on the shoulder as she muttered, “Sorry,” to Scott. She could feel her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
“Is this for what happened to the closet?” Lang asked. Apparently he had not heard her apology, only Clint’s compliment. Getting his legs under him, he added, “Come on, man, I said before it was an accident!”
“Oh, yeah, the closet,” Clint deadpanned. “Come to think of it, Wanda, you should drop some more snow on him!”
“I told you, ants and roaches don’t get along!”
“So you had to grow big enough to put your empty head through the ceiling, because the Ant-Man was afraid of a roach?” the other countered harshly.
“Scott, how are the traps on the south side?” Steve interrupted, smoothly diverting attention from the potential argument. But he was grinning as he spoke.
Wanda tried her best to make the giggles stop, but it did not work. Scott’s escapade in the guest room’s closet had occurred when he had first visited the Barton homestead in the summer. He had come to set up some early warning systems for Clint’s house with the local ants. The two men each had a confident streak which tended to irk the other. Scott putting his head into the upstairs spare room through the ceiling of his closet had not helped settle matters between them, because the move had destroyed almost two months’ worth of renovation on that part of the house. Clint had not been happy, to say the very least.
“Still good,” the San Francisco native panted, dusting the remaining snow from his suit. “Ants are hibernating for the winter, but,” he shrugged, “the tech isn’t frozen –”
“Unlike your brain,” Clint muttered.
Scott shot him a look that carried more hurt than anger. “The heating system still works, so no chance it’ll conk out.”
“Good to know.” Steve glanced to the side, and he suddenly turned to wave toward the house.
Turning, Wanda was in time to see Sharon Carter waving back from the porch. “Ten minutes!” she called.
Steve had never told them how he found Sharon, and she had never revealed any details, either. But somehow, after going on the run for helping them in Germany, she had stayed hidden long enough for Steve to find her and recruit her to the “Secret Avengers.”
“Great!” Scott clapped his hands together. “I am starving!”
“Yeah, well, you get the smallest portion,” Clint growled as he turned and walked away. Wanda fell into step beside him as Scott stuttered in bewilderment, “Wha… Why?”
“Because of your size, Tic-Tac,” Sam answered. She could hear the grin in his voice. Both men enjoyed ‘razzing’ their new teammate far too much, in her opinion.
And enough, she decided, was enough. “You shouldn’t tease him like that,” Wanda whispered, giving Clint’s shoulder a nudge with her own. “It was an accident. And he did help to fix it.”
“Tried to help,” the other muttered. “At least he got the wiring right.”
“Come on, he’s not so bad!”
The archer heaved a deep, theatrical sigh. “Okay, yeah. Considering his size, he can haul a lot of weight –”
The rest of his words disappeared in an oof as she elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “All right, all right!” he chuckled. “I get the message!”
“Good. Regular portions then?”
“Unless he wants to eat us out of house and home.”
Wanda could not smother the responding smile. As they approached the house, she allowed Clint to pull ahead of her and climb the stairs up to the porch. He went inside immediately, probably to snatch some private moments with his wife.
She went up the steps more slowly, allowing an argumentative Sam and Scott to pass her and enter the house. Sharon turned from the man sitting in the rocking chair on the porch and smiled at her. “Nice job with the snowwoman,” she said.
“I had a lot of practice.” Wanda shrugged. “Winters in Sokovia were usually snowy. Pietro and I almost always found time to make a snowman or to have a snowball fight, even when we were too old to do it, in some people’s minds.”
“With his powers, I imagine he would have won today’s snowball battle.”
Wanda shot her a smug smile. “No he wouldn’t.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he would never have been able to beat me.”
There was a clatter from the woodpile, followed by Steve’s footsteps as he jogged up the porch stairs. “Are we all ready to eat?” he asked.
“Just about,” Sharon said, glancing at the man in the rocking chair. She shot Steve a questioning look, but he had turned to the man himself. “You coming, Buck?”
“In a minute,” the other answered. “I just have to finish something, and I’ll be right in.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Steve stepped forward and opened the door for Sharon, who walked inside. He followed her.
Once the door was closed, Wanda looked back at the former Winter Soldier. Barnes’ attention, however, was on a notebook situated in his lap. He was writing something in it.
Though the Wakandans had offered to replace his metal arm not long after he arrived in their country, Barnes had insisted they do so only after all the HYDRA codes were purged from his mind. The doctors had made great progress there – even Wanda could sense that – but he still had residual programming lurking in his memory. Until that was gone, he retained the use of only his right arm. His left still ended in a metal stump, which was wrapped in various slings, depending on the wear and tear the older ones had received during his time in cryostasis.
She thought he would finish writing before he spoke, but he surprised her:
“Three rings for the Elven kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for mortal men doomed to die.
And one for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie.”
His voice never rose above a murmur. “You read really well, you know that?”
Wanda blinked. She had read The Lord of the Rings – and several other books – to Barnes while he was in cryogenic freeze during their visits to Wakanda. The head doctor had asked for volunteers to stay up with Barnes during the late hours of the night, when most of the other physicians and their attendants went to get some sleep.
She had heard, somehow, somewhere, that coma patients who awoke often reported hearing the voices of those who talked to them. This had led to her decision to volunteer for the project. But she had never, in her wildest imaginings, expected Barnes to mention it! “You heard me?” was all she could think to say. It sounded so pathetic and childish that she wanted to take the question back.
He nodded. “I think I heard you whenever you came to visit. And Steve – I know when I heard Steve drop in to talk. And I think I remember the doctors, when it was their turn to read or talk at night. Some of them really liked to talk. I remember most of what you said.” He frowned, his hand pausing in its progress across the page. “At least, I think I remember most of it. Did I recite that poem correctly?”
“Perfectly.”
He seemed to think that over for a long time. Then he gave a slight nod before he went on writing. Wanda had to fight the urge to read the words flowing onto the page. He wrote well – and fast. “I didn’t know if you’d be able to sense that I wanted to talk to you,” he went on. He continued to write as he spoke. “Steve said you could pick up on that sort of thing, but with my brain all messed up…” He shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s not as wild as I thought it was.”
“Not wild so much as…scarred,” she murmured. “I can sense you, most of the time, but not as clearly as Scott, Steve, and Sam.”
“I’d have thought Barton would have made that list.”
“Normally, he does.” She paused. It was not her story to tell… but he should be apprised of the matter, at least briefly. “But he has been – used in the past, too. He carries it well, but he does have scars. They make him hard to ‘hear.’ Occasionally.”
Barnes’ left eyebrow lifted. “Any idea when this happened?”
“New York,” Wanda answered promptly. “Loki’s invasion.”
“Hmm.” Barnes closed the pen and dropped it in the book, closing it afterward. “Have to ask Steve about the details, I suppose.”
“You could ask Clint.”
He looked up at her and smiled slightly, a shadow of bitterness in the expression. “You think he’s really that comfortable around me?”
“I think,” she said slowly, “that it is his story to tell.” She paused, then added, “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”
His gaze slid off to the side as he considered that. Then he met her eyes again. “If I think of a way to ask, I will,” he promised. He cocked his head at her. “I wanted to say thanks. For the reading you do at night. It’s nice, not to be alone.”
Now it was her turn to give him a small smile. “I know. That’s why I do it.” She watched him tuck the notebook into the pocket of a bag sitting at his feet. As he stood up and slung the strap over his shoulder, she asked, “What were you writing?”
“Things I remember,” he said. “And what I saw today.” He nodded into the yard without looking at it. “It’s supposed to help me…get better. Somehow.”
“Does it work?”
“Sometimes.” Now he did look into the yard. “I want to remember this,” he said firmly. “So writing about it feels like a good precaution.”
“I guess it would.”
They stayed on the porch for a moment in companionable silence. In the quiet, Wanda’s senses suddenly tingled. She started. They were being watched….!
She looked up at Barnes, a warning on her lips, and found his eyes on her. There was an amused glint in them. “If you’re going to stay up in that tree,” he said, raising his voice somewhat, “You’re going to miss dinner.”
That was when Wanda identified their covert observer. She spun around –
To see Natasha Romanoff, a warm coat over her black combat suit and wearing a light backpack, swing out of the tree next to the house. Landing her foot on the railing, she brought her other one down onto the wood flooring. Once she had her balance, she released the tree branch and hopped quietly onto the porch. “Now you recognize me,” she said, smiling lopsidedly at Barnes.
“Turns out, you’re pretty hard to forget.” Barnes’ mouth had quirked at one corner. Glancing between them, Wanda suddenly realized she was witnessing two professionals trade “shop talk.”
“Must be the hair,” she said. Reaching up, Natasha pulled a pin from the bun at the back of her head and allowed it to fall loose. Wanda was startled to see that it was dyed black. Natasha was also wearing far more makeup than she had ever used before. In a crowd, even Wanda would have missed her – especially if she had been using just her eyes.
Natasha’s bright green gaze went from Barnes to Wanda. She felt herself blush. “Natasha – about the fight at the airport –”
“You were right,” Natasha cut her off, her smile widening. “He was pulling his punches.” Walking lightly across the porch, she threw her arms around Wanda and hugged her. Hard.
Wanda returned the embrace with as much strength as she could summon. “How did you get away?”
“Old spy habits die very hard,” the older woman replied, pulling back to study Wanda’s face. “You look good. The guys have been taking care of you?”
“Yes,” Wanda managed past the lump that wanted to rise in her throat.
Natasha grinned, but there was something uncertain in her expression. “Think, uh, that they’re in a recruiting mood?”
“You mean…?”
“Come on, none of you could stand by and watch the bad guys steam roller people. You’re names don’t make the papers anymore, but a determined person can put two and two together to realize that you’re still working under the radar.”
Wanda found herself smiling. “I think you may have to – make a pitch, is it? But you’ll get a fair hearing,” she added quickly.
“All I can hope for. And more than I deserve.” Natasha glanced at Barnes. “Anything I should avoid saying or doing?”
He answered her in Russian. Wanda shot him a look, feeling her eyes widen with surprise. The code words to activate his HYDRA programming had been largely in Russian. Though the doctors had said those were gone, she and the others had been wary about saying anything in that language, especially around him.
Natasha’s eyebrows rose as well. “Impressive.” She responded in the same tongue and Barnes’ smile got wider. “Stalingrad, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can everyone detect my accent?”
Barnes chuckled, reached forward with his right hand, and grabbed the doorknob. Whatever he said in response as he opened the door for them, Wanda did not understand it, since he was again speaking in Russian. But it made Natasha laugh. She walked to the door and Wanda followed in her wake. “You are a charmer!” Natasha chuckled, giving him a teasing look.
“I try,” he answered.
Once they were indoors, they wiped their boots on the welcome mat. Or, Wanda and Natasha did. Barnes was wearing a set of soft shoes, and he had never left the porch. His scuffing was more reflexive politeness than anything else. They were in the entrance of the main hallway.
Standing in the doorway immediately to their left was Steve. He glanced toward them, then turned his head to focus on the third member of their party. Natasha froze in response.
Their eyes met and held for a very, very long moment. Then, turning, Steve waved into the other room. An instant later, Clint joined him at the door.
He and Natasha stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. Wanda waited, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst.
Finally, Clint walked over and put his hands on Natasha’s shoulders. “You were almost late,” he said, mock sternly.
Natasha’s lips quirked. Wanda did not need her powers to note the way the other woman’s feelings trembled. She had moved her mouth to try and hide how it quivered with emotion and uncertainty. “I wasn’t sure there would be room at the table,” she answered softly.
Clint shook his head slightly, never taking his eyes off of hers. “Always room at the table for you,” he said, adding a Russian word at the end of his statement. Clint had told Wanda that particular word meant sister.
Natasha’s tightly controlled response was entirely in Russian – but Wanda definitely heard the word for brother buried in the sentence.
The two hugged hard. Wanda saw the Black Widow’s shoulders tremble slightly in Clint’s strong grip. It had not been easy for her to come back, she realized suddenly, especially knowing that they had all been locked up in the Raft after the battle at the airport.
Wanda had half hoped the former spy would return and had been half afraid that she would lash out in anger at Natasha if she did come back. She had also been worried the Black Widow would hold their brief fight at the airport against her.
Seeing her now, though, after so many months, Wanda knew she could not be angry at Natasha. Perhaps, she thought, recalling how easily the other had dismissed their last meeting, she can’t bring herself to be angry at me, either.
Finally, the two pulled apart. The emotion they were feeling was still palpably obvious, though. Wanda did her best to ignore the wetness on the other woman’s face, the only physical sign of her reunion which she had been unable to hide.
At that moment, Steve came up beside Clint, who turned slightly so that Natasha could face him. Natasha opened her mouth to say something but Steve shook his head slightly. “Looking for a job?” he asked, his lips curving up in a wry smile.
Natasha smiled wanly. “Wanda says you’re hiring.”
“You’d need a specific skill set.”
“Got one of those.”
“Good record.”
“Could be better.”
“Need a couple of sources to vouch for you.”
Clint’s hand rose immediately. Wanda’s was a few seconds slower. He glanced at her and she gave him a teasing smile. Steve took in their upraised hands, then looked back at Natasha. “All right. Natasha Romanoff, welcome to the Secret Avengers.”
“Better known to my kids as ‘The A-Team,’” Clint piped up smartly.
Natasha burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“Nope.” There was a loud scramble from the doorway. Natasha had laughed loud enough for the others to hear her. “Incoming!”
The next few minutes were a madcap exchange of shouted greetings and hugs as Cooper and Lila pounced on Natasha with wild exclamations of joy. Sharon and Laura’s faces reflected that, for the most part, while Scott’s face showed wariness. Considering his last – and his first – meeting with Natasha, that was understandable. But even after Steve nodded to him, Wanda detected some suspicion in Sam’s eyes. Scott was soon going to have company in the ‘razzing’ department, she suspected.
Pressed up against the door with Barnes by the swarming group in the hall, Wanda could not help laughing. She was not sure just what was so funny. They were still fugitives. Stark, Rhodes, and Vision were with the Accords. Nothing had changed. Nothing…except that Natasha had returned.
It was like they had been in mourning and had not even known it. As though they had thought Natasha was dead, and now she had suddenly shown up alive. Maybe that was why Wanda was laughing so hard. Other than it helped her to avoid crying.
Settling into her seat at the dinner table a few minutes later, Wanda was surprised when Lila leaned over to her and whispered, “Cooper and I made a list of some more books Uncle Steve’s friend might want to hear read to him. Would you like to see it?”
“Definitely,” Wanda hissed back. “Tomorrow morning. Deal?”
Lila nodded and bobbed in her chair, smiling. Wanda grinned at her, then glanced around the table.
She saw Barnes as he squeezed between Steve’s and Clint’s seats. She watched Sharon take a chair on Steve’s other side. Scott had gotten Natasha a chair from somewhere and was helping her settle in beside Laura. Sam was on Wanda’s right, seated next to Laura and Nathaniel. Cooper had a chair between his father’s seat and Scott’s.
These were her friends. Her family. I’m not going to leave ANY of them alone, she promised.
THE END
Thoughts on the Edge of Forever 