marvel oneshots

wandanat | home for christmas ( a )

summary - two years after losing natasha, the only thing you count on is having wanda home for christmas

word count - 2.7k

The worst thing about life always happens when you're doing your best. It happens when you're lying in bed at night left with nothing but your thoughts, when you're finally catching up on chores that had been sitting on a checklist for months, when you finally see the rainbow after the storm. Life doesn't care about the little things you could be doing, it doesn't care that you have a load of laundry in the washing machine, or that you're six feet off the ground trying to hang a star from the top of your Christmas tree on a rickety old ladder. It doesn't care, because the worst thing about life is that it never stops evolving. The days never stop dawning, relationships never stop changing, and the people you know never stop leaving. Leaving. It's inevitable, but somehow even knowing that fact, doesn't make it any easier to heal from.

There's a pile of presents on the ground that will never be opened. There's a stocking on the mantle that will never be glared at. There's an empty spot in your bed that will never be warm. There's a hole in your heart that can never be filled. Life moved on after Natasha Romanoff sacrificed herself, but you stayed there. You stayed in her shadow wearing her clothes and watching her movies, and you held onto her memories because if you didn't, life would plow right over them. Your other girlfriend hadn't been much better. She'd hexed an entire town, she only spoke Sokovian - the language that was so similar to Russian that sometimes in the middle of the night you confused her for Natasha - and she only cooked her favorite food. Maybe neither of you had found the strength to move on, but keeping her alive was more important then going to bed knowing you were healing. You could never heal. You'd rather cry through her favorite movie and sleep in her favorite shirt rather than forget about the little things that were already starting to fade.

It wasn't your first Christmas without her. Last year was the worst. Nothing felt normal, because nothing was normal. Not only was your bed 33.3% colder, but the living room was missing her laugh, the dining room table was missing her plate, and your heart was missing the woman that had seen the best in you when nobody else did. You loved Wanda, and she loved you, but Natasha was the one who brought you together. Natasha was the one that had trusted in you both, and while your love could prevail even after her death, nothing was the same. Your life felt like the barren cold of winter that not even a flower could survive in. There wasn't snow, there wasn't rain, there was just dead and empty nothingness that could make anyone go mad.

Christmas was her favorite holiday. You never cared for it much, not until you met her, but she loved everything about it. She loved getting you gifts, and she loved that mistletoe gave her an excuse to kiss you in a room of people, and she loved walking around New York just admiring the lights and inflatables that were put out. When it was Christmas, she wasn't a superhero, she wasn't a child assassin or a murderer, she was just a Russian woman who loved to give love to the people that had chosen her. That's what you loved about the Avengers. They had chosen each other. With the worst parts of themselves beneath a microscope for anyone to scrutinize (and boy did they), they had to choose to see the good, and once they did, there wasn't anything that could dissuade them from being a supporter and showing up. They would always show up for each other, even after death. You just wish Natasha could see that.

You wish she could see how Tony hung her stocking on the mantle. You wish she could see how Wanda only wears her favorite pajama pants to bed. You wish she could see how Laura and the kids always start voicemails with her name. You wish she could see that she had presents waiting for her beneath the tree. You wish that loving her was enough to bring her back to life. You couldn't help yourself when you saw them in the shops, but now that they sit beneath the tree never to be opened, it only makes your heartbreak feel fresh. You can still see her broken neck and shattered legs on the bottom of that mountain. You can still see the way blood seeps from her midsection and how it blends in with her red mane that's sprawled around her, too far away for you to fix it. You can still see the life drain from her eyes, and the very last breath she wheezes out. If love was strong enough to bring back the dead, there's not a single doubt in your head that Natasha Romanoff would be eternal.

Sighing, you finish putting up the decorations in your bedroom just as Wanda comes in, already dressed for tonight's event. It had slipped your mind, and even if it hadn't, you weren't in the mood to join her and socialize with Tony's megarich acquaintances who didn't know or didn't care that half of your heart was decomposing at the bottom of a mountain on an alien planet, not even able to be properly laid to rest. On nights like these, you hoped to god that she found a way back to you and Wanda, even if her body was far away. You hoped that when you die, she's waiting with open arms, but you can't be sure that her soul made it off of Vormir when her body couldn't. Every Christmas, Tony hosts a gala with all of his billionaire friends, although now it's more of an excuse to get shitfaced then it is to raise money for his projects, but no matter the reason, Wanda would be going alone.