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rennat-writes · 11 months

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𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑆𝐸𝐸𝐾

(𝐁𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐭)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘;

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧��, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫- 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐍𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

Authors Note;

Hey, Nat here! If all of this flashy formatting wasn’t enough to catch your attention, just know that there will be smut later on.

Natasha Romanoff hadn’t left the compound in three weeks. Sam Wilson would bring her groceries every Friday, and she would sit in that god forsaken office for hours every day- as if she was waiting for another team meeting to be called. As if Clint would walk through that door, as if Tony would say something sarcastic about Natasha’s feet being up on his expensive desk- but they were all gone. Disbanded, or dead- and she would never see them again.

Clint was off doing god knew what, he never visited or called- Thor went off world a few hours after the battle for the stones- and Tony- Tony had left to start a new life. Natasha hadn’t seen him in four years.

He called her when Pepper gave birth, and he would send her messages on her birthday or Christmas- but other then that, nothing. Natasha supposed that she wasn’t doing very good herself. She would stay cooped up here if she wasn’t on a mission- and even then, the war was over, lost- there were hardly any evil people left to fight. The only people Natasha saw on a regular basis was Rhodey, over hologram- Sam, when he brought over supplies or went on missions with her, and Wanda Maximoff. Natasha only considered one of those people friends. Sam and Rhodey were good company- but they had other people they prioritized- she didn’t blame them.

Her and Wanda- they were in the same boat. Literally. They were the only Avengers left living in compound- they kept each other company- Natasha could even say that she liked Wanda as a friend- she was kind. The compound was a big place, though- and most of the time they kept to themselves.

Natasha had no clue that Wanda had been watching her, waiting for the right moment- and maybe that moment was approaching. The redhead put her feet back on the ground so she could take a small bite out of the corner of her little sandwich- she was admittedly trying not to cry. Her purpose was gone- she couldn’t help anyone, she had failed the universe- what was there left?

She quickly wiped at her eyes when she realized she was being watched. She leaned back in her chair as if she hadn’t just been about to sob- she turned to the doorway to see that Wanda was leaning against it, staring at her.

“Hey-” her voice cracked slightly, she cleared it- “Hey. What’s up?”

"Nothing, malen'kiy pauk." Wanda shrugged, walking into the room. "Thinking about the people we've lost again?" She asked, walking closer towards Natasha, towards where she sat without asking for permission as she usually used to do, ever the anxious creature she once was. She sat on the desk that Natasha had her leg propped up against.

"You know you shouldn't torture yourself like this. You've been through enough already." She said. She understood. If there was anyone who could understand, it'd always be Natasha, and that was just another reason she was the best; that she was perfect for Wanda.

"They're gone, Nat. It's okay. We just have to grieve them now." She knew full well if she wanted to she could bring back one, or maybe even all of them with her chaos magic, but she didn't have to or want to say that and make it known she was much more powerful now.

Natasha looked down at her lap, biting her lip. She nodded, but she didn’t really believe Wanda- it was hard to. How could it be that she was one of the only people left- and it wasn’t her fault?

“I just- I think about what I could’ve done different- if I had just shot the bastard instead of going at him with a fucking taser- maybe they would still be here.” She wiped at her eyes again- she couldn’t look at Wanda. She had never said it, but she felt as though it was her fault that Wanda was alone again- her fault that Vision was dead. She had thought about it for four years, trying her hardest to find a way to bring them back- but there was no way. Carol had given up, Bruce had given up- but Natasha couldn’t.

“I just- what am I supposed to do now? What’s left?”

"Accept it." She said. "It's one of the hardest fights you can fight, but it's one you have to fight; it's a fight everyone has to fight." She moved closer, using her magic and summoning a chair---quietly making it slightly taller than other chairs with her magic, subtly, because she needed a larger height difference---and sat next to Natasha.

The extended height difference was enough for her to pull Natasha's head down to her chest and stroke her hair. "It's a fight I've had to fight multiple times, and it will hurt, but you have to do it, malen'kiy pauk. You can't keep doing this to yourself." She whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"I'm more powerful than you, than most of you." All of you. "I destroyed an infinity stone, even, but it wasn't enough, and I didn't kill Thanos." She could have, and still could, though. "So if I couldn't, neither could you. Don't think otherwise, malen'kiy pauk. You know how powerful I am compared to you."

Natasha’s brow furrowed. It was true- Wanda was more powerful then her, by a long shot- but something about the way she said it as more then a point, as more then an afterthought- it felt odd. She tried to push it out of her mind- it was probably nothing. Wanda was already taller then Natasha, so she didn’t really notice the chair being higher up then her own.

She wouldn’t say she didn’t enjoy the comfort- but there was something about it that felt wrong. Secretive. She stood and began pacing, an excuse to get away- because for some reason, being held so...lovingly by Wanda made her feel guilty.

“Yeah. You’re right. Want the other half of that sandwich? I don’t really want it.” She said, pointing at the plate she had left behind on the desk.

Wanda let her get up, because that was all Natasha could do right now even if she didn't know; she could only do the things that Wanda allowed her to do. She was more powerful, Natasha wouldn't even be able to breathe unless Wanda willed it so. If she wanted to right now, she knew she could make Natasha stop breathing and still have her survive---because Wanda wanted Natasha, and when she had her, to never lose her ever again---and Natasha wouldn't be able to do a thing.

Sometimes, especially in times like these, it was always good to hold all the power. Perhaps if she had, she never would have been sent to the Raft, and she never would have lost Vision to Thanos, or lost Natasha to Vormir.

"Sure, of course." She replied easily, picking it up and starting with small bites, as if she didn't delight in the act of sharing food with the one she loved. It was such an intimate act, something she'd done with the top three people she loved; Pietro, Vision, and now Natasha.

Eventually, she felt the need for physical contact with Natasha again, and so she picked up a file. "Could you come here?" She asked. "What's this file about?" And she didn't let Natasha take it from her to read on the other side of the table, turned around, and instead have to move beside her again, to be able to read it next to her and explain.

Natasha noticed- she definitely noticed. Why was Wanda suddenly gravitating towards her like a magnet or a lost puppy? What Natasha didn’t know, was that SHE was the lost puppy in this situation- buying into it, letting it happen- what harm could be done? Maybe Wanda just needed comfort.

“Oh- that’s just something Carol said that I wrote down, thought it might be important.” It was about the stones. The space stone to be specific, and where it had come from- Natasha didn’t have a clue as to how that would be important in any scenario- the stones were gone.

It made her feel like she was doing something, though- she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she wasn’t at least trying to bring back all the people that had been lost to Thanos. She took the file from Wanda’s hand and opened it up. All she knew about it was that Thanos had stolen it from Loki who had stolen it from SHIELD who had stolen it from Loki- the list of thieves went on. Pathetic little notes that got her nowhere, even Carol had told her that she wasn’t going to accomplish anything by researching all of the stones- but Natasha had a gut feeling that it might come in handy to know where to find them- at least, before they had been disturbed by Thanos’s hand. Natasha felt Wanda move closer to her and she took a step to the side- excusing it by setting the file down in an empty basket that had once been full of mission reports.

Natasha wasn’t a very touchy person- at least, not unless she really, REALLY trusted someone- which, she did trust Wanda- but they weren’t that close.

Wanda stopped her from moving, holding onto her wrist in a gentle but firm grip, loose but her hand was clutched so strongly that---with assistance from her magic, although Natasha wouldn't be able to tell since the wisps of chaos magic weren't out, and neither were her glowing red eyes---Natasha wouldn't be able to break out of her hold.

She looked up. "You're... You're researching the stones? Where they all are in points of time before Thanos got to them?"

Wasn’t that how they won? Wasn’t that how they got the stones back from Thanos, by stealing it from him out of time. The time heist. The reason that Natasha left her life, and the reason she was brought back from a non-existence that made her happy for once, because she didn't have to stay there to feel the rest of her grief, but then she was brought back and had to face even worse.

And it was Natasha that was the key player in it.

Fucking Natasha.

Well, it was a good thing she was here to put a stop to it now.

Natasha didn’t like this. She didn’t like being held and not being to leave- but she didn’t pull at her arm, she just slowly turned back to look at Wanda with mild surprise.

“Well yeah- I know it’s probably a long shot, but it’s better then giving up on everyone- Steve, and Bucky, and Clint’s family- I’ve almost tracked down the soul stone too. Want to see?” Natasha couldn’t know how upset she was making Wanda because the witch was so fucking good at hiding it- but she was unknowingly walking on eggshells.

“I was just on call with Danvers and Rhodey- she told me where the power and time stone was before Thanos stole them. There’s a chance, Wanda- I know it’s slim- but we can bring them all back. And then everything can go back to how it was.” Thin fucking ice. Natasha made a small attempt to pull her wrist out of Wanda’s hold, no dice. She smiled awkwardly at the woman. “Hey, can I have that back? I need it.” She nodded down at her arm.

Wanda's mind echoed with sounds of screams and emotions she felt, emotions she thought she had been allowed to deal with, and had worked through, but no. It was just that she had given herself so much space from it, and 'time healed all wounds', but what use was that if you were back in the past, knowing the future, and here was the person who unintentionally hurt her by reopening wounds talking about the fucking soul stone?

She had repressed it before but there was no way to repress an open wound.

"Unclear, isn't it?" She said. "All signs will start pointing to Vormir, though, and then soon you'll face the problem of not knowing how to get it from Vormir." She spoke, barely able not to clench her jaw.

She tightened her grip, before Natasha could ask her how she knew it was there.

"Why are you so sure it'd be better if they were all brought back?" She asked. It hadn't been for her. It hadn't been for a lot of people. She still remembered the chaos it caused, the disorder. Karli Morgenthau had DIED for a world like this, not a world like the one Natasha was trying to bring back.

Eyes now filling with tears, she turned to Natasha. "There's no fucking chance, Natasha. It's not worth it." She said, wondering if that was saying too much; she decided she didn't care.

Natasha couldn't make her do anything or admit to anything, and if Scott, ever lovely Scott came, she would turn him away. She wouldn't let the time heist repeat.

No.

She refused to lose Natasha again.

Alright, that was it. Natasha tugged at her arm again. “Wanda, let me go. What are you saying? Millions of people lost their lives- their families, and we have a chance to bring them back.” She didn’t like the way Wanda was looking at her, it made her feel powerless and small- something she had never wanted to feel again.

She didn’t even know what Vormir was- but she didn’t want to ask Wanda, especially not right now when she was so upset about who knew what. Natasha decided that she needed space, they both did- if Wanda would just let her go.

“I’m not asking you to help me, Wanda- let me go before I have to hurt you.” Natasha didn’t want to have to resort to her black widow ways but if Wanda was so out of it that she couldn’t come back enough to free Natasha- then she would flip her over her shoulder onto her back.

Wanda didn't let go. She held onto Natasha tightly as the buried feelings of losing Natasha hit her with an intensity it hadn't before, except for the very first time. The rest after, it was starting to get buried, and it was just another wave that would drown her, and then more waves came, that she didn't even remember all the reasons for them.

But now she knew exactly which wave this was. The feeling of losing Natasha, the woman she had grown closest to aside from Vision. The woman who she trained with, slept next to during nights when she got nightmares and it was only Natasha that would come to her. The woman that worried for her after the truce, right before Thanos' attack; the one they'd lost.

The woman who she had fallen in love with, just as much as she had for Vision, but hadn't even realized. Compulsory heterosexuality sure was fucking something, considering it affected her, despite her being out of the closet.

And she needed Natasha close. Needed to know she hadn't died, and--been lost to time like she had before. That she hadn't given her life in a meaningless sacrifice just to bring people back to an unforgiving world that only took and took. It never gave anything back. She didn't understand why Natasha would die for that world. There was nothing good about bringing people back to this world.

They didn't care. They were DEAD. She had been dead. She finally got to stop feeling. All they were trying to do was selfish.

Selfishness, she understood, it only brought pain.

She couldn't let them go through with it.

She stretched her arm out, and red surrounded the papers of research Natasha had gathered and fire consumed it.

Four years of Natasha’s life- burning up before her very eyes, and no matter how hard she tried to get Wanda to let her go- she just couldn’t. She had obsessed over every detail, every note, every thought that someday she could right the worlds biggest wrong- and now she would have to start over.

“Wanda, what the fuck?! Do you know how long that took me- years! Why would you do that?!” Natasha still didn’t know that Wanda wasn’t just having an episode- she had them sometimes to- and she was really trying to understand. She took a few deep breathes- it was okay, she could just write what she remembered down and go back to Carol who had her own copies. It was okay.

She looked up at Wanda- she was still angry, but not directly at her- surely it had been out of impulse, and there was a different side to this. “Wanda. I’m here, if you want to talk about something- I’m right here, but you need to let me go. I’m upset right now and I want to go to my room.”

"You don't understand," Wanda whispered. "You don't understand, but that's alright. You don't have to understand, malen'kiy pauk. I'll understand for the both of us. You just have to comply. Don't fucking try this. It's not gonna be worth it. No one will be happy to be alive. No one ever was before."

She remembered some of them; Peter, Bucky, Strange, Sam, and T'Challa. Although not in this time.

Peter was outed, abused, and had been forgotten. Bucky lost Steve. Strange was fucking miserable. Sam...maybe... And T'Challa had died soon after coming back.

There was no one who had been happy after being brought back.

"No one ever was after." She spoke, blinking the memories away, the tears falling in response. "It was never worth it. You don't have to understand. Just trust me; I know better, malen'kiy pauk. I saw it all."

Natasha shook her head- no. Wanda was confused, she was hurting- relapsing. “No, no- you don’t pick for the both of us, Wanda. What are you talking about? Did you- did you see something? Do you know something?!” An idea hit Natasha- what if, what if Wanda knew that this plan- it would work, and for whatever reason she didn’t want it to.

No, that would be unfair to say- Natasha bit her tongue. Natasha was losing her trust in Wanda quickly even if she really was trying to understand, to be sympathetic- there was no way Wanda knew better. Natasha had been the one doing the research- it was such a thing to say, and the implications behind ‘just comply’ made Natasha’s skin crawl.

She didn’t want to upset Wanda, she really didn’t- but this was going way too far. “I’m going to give you to the count of three to get your hands off of me, and then we can talk about whatever’s going on in your mind. But you have to let me go first.”As if not quite hearing Natasha, she pulled her closer, Natasha's body now pressing against Wanda's, and Wanda tilted her head ever so slightly, her free hand caressing the side of her jawline, her cheek, and briefly brushing her knuckles against her hair.

"Why do you have to question me so, malen'kiy pauk?" She whispered so gently, so reverently and so sweetly, that the fear, the sort of undertone of threat in her words took just a second longer to reach. "I'm trying to protect you, you don't have to understand, but why must you question me?"

She laughed. "Of course I get to decide for the both of us. The last time I didn't... The last time I didn't you made a stupid, stupid choice." She chose the world, she chose the Barton's. It wasn't an even choice. It was just proof that Natasha... She didn't have the best judgement. She shouldn't be trusted to make the calls.

That was alright.

Wanda could make them for her.

She was, after all, destined to be a ruler.

“Wanda, you’re scaring me.” Natasha said firmly, trying to lean away from her gentle touches that made her skin tingle- fear settled in the pit of her stomach as the mood in the room shifted from anger to something much, much darker- something Natasha didn’t understand.

“Whatever you know, you can help make the right decisions, but we have to at least try. We can’t just let all those innocent people stay dead forever- what about Peter, and- and Scott- don’t they deserve to come back? Whatever it takes.” Natasha swallowed as Wanda’s eyes darkened.

“You don’t own me, you can’t control me- I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Now, for the last time- back up.”

"Peter doesn't get a good life like you think even when he comes back. That kid suffers like I do. He loses his family, he loses his loved one, he loses his friends, he loses his identity, and he's forgotten to the world. Just like I was. If you bring him back, you solidify his suffering. And don't you understand? He's too good of a person to be ruined, like I was." She whispered. She still remembered the spell, trying to attack her mind; Forget Peter Parker. It was only the runes that stopped it.

She had scanned the minds of people in a wide wide scale radius after, and reached Peter, reached the people around Peter. The poor kid...

"And Scott... Scott is not dead. Scott will stay away, but he's not dead. That's all you need to know."

She growled, doing that thing with her mouth, lifting the side of it as she bared her teeth. "Fucking listen to me for once, Natasha." She tightened her grip, now less gently firm and more definitely bruising. "This lack of space isn't the problem, and you CAN'T make decisions for yourself. Every time you have, you just condemn other people around you to suffer a little more, or hurt yourself more; both. I won't let you.”

Ow. Fucking ow. All Natasha had ever done was try to help people- to save them from the hell she had been through- but was that really what she did? Did she condemn people to live out misery? She could feel her wrist bruising in Wanda’s hold and it actually hurt enough to make her eyes begin to water.

“Fucking harsh.” She muttered- what else could she say? That Wanda had genuinely hit a sore spot- had confirmed a huge fear of hers? That she had never actually helped anyone- that she only ever caused pain and suffering.

Maybe her eyes weren’t just watering- but Natasha was a strong person, and her resolve couldn’t be so easily broken- at least, not usually- but Natasha was already down, already vulnerable. She reached up with her free hand and slapped Wanda’s hand away- her gentle touches weren’t matching her words- and Natasha wanted so badly to move away. “Don’t touch me.”

Wanda could tell when she hit a sore spot better than others, she was always the one on the other side of the situation after all, and she was good at self deceit enough to take note of what people were lying to themselves about, it was how she knew just what to say to Strange, although obviously, she hadn't been convincing enough.

So, she continued, ignoring Natasha. She didn't know what was good for her anyway, what was the use in listening to someone who couldn't make self-preserving choices? Smart choices that were neither selfish nor selfless.

"And T'Challa. You bring him back only to have his family watch him slowly die of an incurable disease. Bucky loses Steve. Strange has nothing going for him, he loses the love of his life, he doesn't know what else to do with himself. Yelena, yes, I know of her." She met her once, on the rare occasions she went out of her cabin, visiting Natasha's grave, getting all the news so far, of her former 'teammates'. She, truly, had just been out there for Natasha, and to see if anyone cared enough to search for her---no one ever did, but she knew Natasha would have---or if anyone was searching for her because they thought her to be a threat.

"Yelena becomes a killer for hire. She gets sent after Clint." She says. Misleading information, in use, she continues. "She never fails a mission, you know this." She wasn't lying, but she did know the assumptions that would jump into Natasha's mind. "How do you think the kids handled it? Seeing their father attacked by an assassin. He had a mentee, Clint. Her name was Kate. She took on the mantle of Hawkeye too early, in my opinion. I'm sure he saw you when he let her drop from the side of that building when she asked him to help her up."

Natasha choked on a sob. Yelena. Sweet, funny, loving Yelena- turned into an assassin- after all that they had been through. And Clint- he had three kids and a wife, he couldn’t die- and T’Challa- god, Natasha was actually starting to question her decision. She was crumbling.

Maybe it had been the thought of her baby sister that did it, she didn’t know- but Natasha didn’t want to hear any more. She had gotten the point- she didn’t need this. “Okay, I get it- stop. Stop it!” She said, squeezing her eyes shut so she didn’t have to look at Wanda- god, her arm hurt. Not as much as her chest though. Her heart felt too heavy and there was a stabbing lump in her throat that made her voice waver."There's one more you hurt." She said. "I died." She spoke. She knew she had driven the point, but she couldn't just settle for that, she needed Natasha to understand just how badly it had all screwed up. How meaningless and awful her sacrifice was, and all the ripples that it had caused.

She could have done so much more if she'd just given herself more time.

She could have saved Yelena, saved Peter, saved Vision (most likely, she hadn't stopped it the first time, but surely she would if she understood how much it hurt Wanda), saved... Probably not T'Challa, and most of all--- Saved her.

But she didn't. Because she'd been so wrapped up in that death wish shit of hers.

At least when Wanda tried to fulfill HER death wishes, she was sure no one was around to care for her. Natasha couldn't even do that good favour for them.

"I don't care that I died." She let go of Natasha, now seeing that she wasn't in any sort of mental state to leave, or escape, or make a dumb decision. "But all the shit that led up to it... The things that you didn't do, the things that you did, all the ripples and consequences of... I had kids, you know. Vision planned to get us a plot of land. I lost it all. That future, my kids, Vision for the third time. And then I died a few years later, because no one was there for me, and it could all be traced back to you."

She summoned her chair again, so she could sit next to Natasha once more. "But, it's okay, malen'kiy pauk. I don't hold it against you. I would never. I'm just here to make sure you don't do it all over again."

Natasha collapsed back into her chair, staring at her wrist- watching as a dark purple mark in the shape of Wanda’s hand began to show itself. She felt completely defeated- it was over. Everyone was gone, she couldn’t help them- no matter how hard she tried, it was too late- no one was ever going to be the same again. Not Clint, not Peter, not anyone.

She turned to Wanda slowly. She couldn’t bare to be around her anymore, and maybe it was time she moved on too- like Thor had. Find her own place in the world- which wasn’t here.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I won’t try to bring everyone back, but I’m not staying here.” “Oh, Malen'kiy pauk." She cooed, and then waved a hand, all windows shutting, as well as all doors, surrounded by the slight glow of red from her magic. "You're not going anywhere without my say so."

She approached Natasha like prey, walking like a predator, a confident and intimidating stride. One that, she thought, must be oddly similar to how she walked during her attack to-at-in? Kamar Taj.

"I just got you back, malen'kiy pauk." Her voice sweet, and genuine, cracking in the middle of her words, sad and loving, pained and hopeful. "I'm not letting you go again. I didn't get a choice last time, but this time... Oh, Nat... I have a choice now. And that means you're never leaving me again, not like before."

Natasha stood up quickly, backing towards the door. This was alright, she had gotten away from hostage situations before- she could do it again. Scratch leaving tomorrow, Natasha was leaving now.

“You aren’t going to control me. I’m going to go get my stuff, and then I’m going to leave. Don’t get in my way.” Natasha didn’t want to look away from Wanda- so she walked backwards to keep an eye on her. Only, when she reached what had once been a doorless entryway- she found that there was nothing but solid wall.

She felt around with her hands for a moment before realizing that there was no exit now. Those windows were designed to be nearly impossible to break- Natasha used to spend boring meetings throwing paperweights at them because they would never get so much as a scratch. “Fuck. Wanda, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.”

“I do, Solntse, I really do." She dragged her hands down her face. "Every single time, the choices you make, it just all keeps coming back to hurt me. I can't lose you, and you're trying to make me. I can't. I won't. So I have to do this. I get it, you don't understand, but that's okay. With time, you will."

She waved her hand, only one door returned, the one behind Wanda. The one she had been blocking Natasha from, showing that it really was Wanda's permission that she needed to be able to get anywhere, even just out of a room.

Natasha sucked in a breath of air. One way out. She went around the desk to try and avoid Wanda- but she could feel her eyes following her out of the room. The very second she was in the hallway she sped up, and when she got to her room she sent a distress single to all of her immediate contacts- but she didn’t know that the scarlet witch had cut off any and all signal- messages could be received, but never sent- not unless Wanda wanted it so.

She sat on her bed staring at the wall- was this really happening to her? In a million years she would’ve never bet that Wanda Maximoff would hold her hostage in the compound to keep her from bringing millions of people back to life. Natasha stared at the now very dark bruise on her arm, god- she didn’t want to admit it but she was terrified. Would Wanda lash out at her like that again? How could she avoid it- and how long would it take before somebody noticed Natasha’s radio silence.

(

Nat and Ren❤️

)

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maschotch · 2 years

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if you have headcanons about jack growing up and how his relationship with hotch ends up i would love to hear it

i think a significant aspect of jack’s transition to adulthood is the process of unraveling his father’s trauma. alkjsdh it’s unfortunate to be stifled by a burden that shouldn’t be his own, but so much about hotch is related to wounds inflicted over the years that he never cared to fully heal. as much as he hates it, it’s inevitable that at least some of it would affect his son. he may be reluctant to address any of it, much less reveal it to his son, but i like to think hotch is a caring enough father to battle his inner demons for jack’s sake. adolescence is difficult enough—hotch’s refusal to recover would drastically impact his son’s life for the worse

for most of the show jack idolized his dad a ridiculous amount akshjdlgakj like it was definitely some media magic how much that boy loved his dad. it was for the sake of keeping hotch on the show—it’s more acceptable for hotch to traipse around catching killers if his son is ok with him being gone all the time (they do a similar thing with matt and his family). and fine, whatever, i’m alright w that. its a clean and easy way to sweep that load of potential problems under the rug. but thats what makes it so much worse when jack Does start to have issues. its heartbreaking that the last time we see hotch and jack, theyre not really on speaking terms

its not like hotch didnt see this coming. as much as id like to see him drowning in misery ashdgljad he’s more practical than self deprecating. he knows what to expect as a child develops, he knows the adoring way his son looks at him will take a sharp turn eventually. at some point all kids realize that their parents arent gods, arent heroes, arent perfect, and that they make mistakes. and they start to resent them. and hotch knows more than anyone that jack has so much to resent him for

witness protection will bring up a lot of painful memories for both of them—maybe ones jack had forgotten about since he was so young. but repeating the same pattern, having his life ripped away and relying on a parent for any sense of stability, has got to be triggering for him. he’s gotta be overwhelmed with conflicting emotions: anger at hotch’s past failures, fear of his remaining parent being taken the same way his mom was. while it sucks for jack aksjhdglj that fear would stop him from cutting hotch off completely, no matter how much jack blames him for

he’s around 10 when we see him last, so he’s hitting his teenage angst a little early, but i think it’s fitting that he gets it out of the way. the very real very present danger will force them to confront issues both of them might otherwise suppress. they only have each other to rely on so they have to clear the air eventually. but i think there’s a lot of stumbling along the way: the sharp venom of vindictiveness has to hit its target a few times before jack’s satisfied, even if he knows it’s unfair. he’s just a kid. forced to mature faster than others, but he can still be petty. he needs to make hotch hurt because he’s young and feels betrayed by his own foolish admiration of a foolish man just as capable of mistakes as anyone

hotch understands. he blames himself just as much if not more for haley’s death. but i think hotch’s acceptance of jack’s anger would only make things worse. he’d react the way haley would (which is extra fun for hotch kajhlfdjg). he’ll be upset that hotch wont defend himself, that hotch won’t deny anything or fight back. that’s because jack, privy to a world broader than he once realized, needs to process the shock of losing veneration for his father before he can come to terms with any sort of sympathetic reasoning of events. he lived his childhood from the rose tinted perspective of absolute trust: he has to see things in black and white before accepting that there are colors beyond that

again, hotch knows all this. he knows it will be a while before jack’s willing to accept any explanation—and that’s if hotch is even willing to provide one. jack may not get the full picture, but hotch might feel like sharing his side of the story would just be hiding behind excuses. i imagine if he ever did, it wouldn’t be planned or thought out at all. likely it’s just jack asking questions during a fragile moment and hotch cant bring himself to deny his son anything

with a direct confrontation, hotch decides it's time to be honest with his son. he wishes he had more time to prepare; jack may be ready but HE’S certainly not ready for this conversation yet, even if he knew it was coming. but he has to think of jack first, the way he’s always tried to. and this is what jack needs now. not excuses or defenses, just honest explanation: a confession of all his weaknesses and failings. the insecurities and doubts. he doesnt want to overwhelm the kid, but jack deserves an explanation of the truth of it all. he talks about what his job meant for him and why he was so devoted to it. he talks about foyet and how it was the fault of a man, not a monster, but including the choices hotch made to get them to that point and why he’s still guilty for it. he talks about the healthy and unhealthy ways to cope with loss and grief and negativity. how you’re not supposed to let it take over your life or liet it control you. how it’s a lesson hotch hasn’t quite learn himself. but how he doesn’t want jack to end up like him. how he wants jack to be better, how he wants the world for him, how everything he does is for his sake, even if he makes mistakes along the way. how hotch isnt a hero, he’s just a man. and man isnt perfect.

i imagine he’s around 12-14 when they have this conversation? jack’s already had to deal with so much and hotch doesnt want him growing up with all those questions burning up inside. he knows jack’s young so he simplifies it a little and leaves out some of the darker stuff (like the extent of his injuries during foyet’s attack and the role hotch’s own childhood plays in all this). but jack doesnt want to be treated like a child anymore. hotch is aware that transparency is what will save their relationship.

things go a little smoother after that. jack will still have his teenage mood swings, he’ll snap at his dad, making some hateful but misdirected comments. but he’ll be more understanding. he’ll say sorry faster, knowing a little more about how his words may affect his father.

hotch of course worries that he’s said too much too soon. he doesn’t want to overburden him with all of his fucking baggage. but it’s kind of an inescapable part of being a parent. their circumstances just happened to call for it earlier than it shouldve been. but it helps hotch too. bc now that he’s explained the problems that he has and the things he’s continuing to work through, he feels more obligated to actually work on himself and show that progress can be made. he wants to set a good example.

i dont think it's until much later that hotch talks about his own experiences growing up. it's not a part of his life he ever planned on sharing—not with anyone, much less his son. but jack is 17-19 and just as quick as his father. he can put the pieces together and has some idea of what happened, vague as it may be. hotch is more subtle than some of the others about the impact his childhood has left on him, but jack has grown up needing to read between the lines to truly understand his father’s feelings: jack can read hotch better than most others because he’s grown up with him. he’s more comfortable being open with his dad now, he’s more willing to ask difficult questions. their relationship is strong and he’s sure it’ll take whatever this conversation leaves them with. they’ll make it. so jack sits with his dad at the table and asks his questions. hotch has barely talked about this with anyone before and he doesnt want to frighten his child with it, even if he’s more of an adult now than hotch is willing to admit. but jack is firm and determined. he thinks he can kelp his father somehow (and god. that just kills hotch. to think that his son is so worried for him. loving and kind, but still naive). taking deep breaths and willing himself not to break down, he begins to answer

#overall i think their relationship is positive #jack is too sweet and hotch loves him too much for their stubbornness to keep them apart for long #i think witsec forces the issue bc they truly have no one left but each other #idk aksjhglask arson and i have talked a lot ab the process of hotch's recovery post bau #its slow #but its determined #bc he knows its not just ab himself: it can fuck jack up too if he lets it #asks #aaron hotchner #cm writings #endgame spoilers #there's so much more i could say akjshlgjks idek if i answered ur question #idk if u meant like. 'what cereal do they keep in the house' type headcanons #(apple jacks and grape nuts)

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