[any other circumstance, she'd laugh at how the avengers constantly had a way of treating her like a kid. younger than the lot of them, sure, but she always felt like a child following the guidance of adults—a tenuous standing of who she was in the grand scheme of everything, dislodged from a safe harbor when she lost pietro, fledgling steps into a new world all by herself. but this is clint, and when he places an arm around her and pulls her in—

she lets it happen.

wanda isn't ashamed to brush away the tears that roll from her cheeks when he speaks about how ten's a good age to be. she and pietro had been ten when the novi grad bombings changed their lives forever. she tucks herself in closer to him, her head finding a resting point on his shoulder.]

...there are rules that even I must follow. I can't reverse death.

[no matter how sad it makes her.

—and, honestly, if she could just create tommy and billy again, wouldn't she? it's not that easy. their souls came through the wonderful miracle of magic and a wish, chose her to be their mom.]

My Tommy and Billy — are gone. Just like Vis. I know they exist, somewhere, in some other universe, but they're not my children. I'm never getting them back.

[she has to tell herself this, otherwise it'd be too hard to bear. it's broken her, once, after all.]