SUPREMACY / P. MAXIMOFF

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Waking up was not the pleasure Ana believed it would be. There was a fleeting moment when she became whole again but it evaporated faster than summer rain off the burnt earth. Her eyelids, drooping and laden with sleep, snapped open as violently as if she'd been woken by a shock of electricity. Ana flinched at the thought of the burning, then remembered something only half reassuring. Ultron was dead. She killed him. What else happened? Why couldn't she remember?

By the time her eyes were fully open, her brain had become overwhelmed all over again as if it were all new, fresh, raw. She wished she could linger in that blissful ignorance of sleep.

But in that moment, she knew nothing and everything.

From the carousel of random ideas came some order - a subtle awareness of who she was under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to her waking life. After a few moments more she began to analyze them in a lazy way; perhaps these ideas were meant to be kept. Some were composed as if from a book she had once read, some were just silly. In another moment they were gone, leaving no trace. If they were still in her head, there was no bread crumb trail back to them. Her eyelids flickered back open to the poorly lit room.

"Hello?" Ana's raspy voice croaked out. It was the only thing she could muster to signal her waking. The Mind Stone was right- she really had no more energy left in her.

"Ana?" She recognized Tony's voice coming through the small intercom next to her bed. "Stay right there, kid. We are coming down for you."

Before Ana could comprehend a thing that was going on, Steve had burst into the room with an ecstatic grin plastered on his face. Clint, Tony, Natasha, and Wanda filed in behind him.

"Wait!" Tony shouted, stiff arming Captain before he could even approach Anastazya. Steve grunted in pain, shooting a glare at Tony. "Before everyone goes and starts crying and hugging the life out of her, I need to check her vitals."

Ana shot them all a semi-reassuring smile, not being able to hold it for long. Her face was too tired. Where the hell was the Mind Stone and all her precious energy?

Patience, you idiot. I need some time to get used to this weak vessel I've been placed in. The Mind Stone hissed at Anastazya from somewhere in her mind. Ana tried to stifle her surprise.

"Is no one going to address the fact that her hair is practically white now?" Clint asked, face contorted in a confused expression. Ana's eyes widened, focusing in on the one piece of hair in her line of sight. It was silver, just like the Mind Stone's. Just like...Pietro's.

Where was he?

"He is coming," Wanda told Anastazya verbally, having read her mind. "He is not as quick as he used to be."

"Okay," Tony mumbled after tapping on the computer near Ana's bedside. "She is ready for smothering."

Natasha was the first to approach Ana, wrapping her up in the tightest hug she could bear without her bones shattering.

"Am I grounded?" Ana whispered weakly.

"So totally grounded," Natasha replied, pulling away from Anastazya, teary-eyed and sniveling, but still smiling.

Next was Clint, who approached her apprehensively, though she didn't know why.

"You still mad at me, kid?" He asked, voice shaking.

"Why would I be?" Ana asked, furrowing her eyebrows together. "I don't remember anything to be mad at you for."

Clint sighed in relief. Tony smirked at him.

"You got lucky, Barton. Try not to fuck it up again," Tony drawled out, rolling his eyes at the end. Ana ignored their little exchange, deciding that her trying to make sense of it in such a weak state would make her brain explode.

"Where is she?!" She heard a panicked voice call from the hallway. She watched as Pietro ran into the wall next to her room before stumbling into the infirmary in a daze. Her heart dropped at the sight of him.

His face was noticeably skinnier from the last time she saw him, his skin sallow and ashen. His eyes were bruised and sunken. He looked absolutely dreadful. She didn't want to think that it was her absence that did this to him, though it was clear that it was. But the way he smiled at her, the way his eyes were still bright, despite the poor state of the rest of his body, made Ana feel like she was seeing the sun for the first time in forever.

Before she knew it she was in his arms again, and her heart soared. His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms made her feel secure when wrapped around her frail body. The world around her melted away as she squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

"You stupid, stupid girl," He sobbed out, running his hands through her hair. He buried his face in her neck, and his tears stung her skin. She would never forgive herself for making him cry like this. She pressed her face against his shoulder.

"I told you we would see each other again," Ana whispered, pressing her lips against his temple. "You have so little faith in me, Pietro."

"Do not be so stupid," he muttered, holding her closer to him. His voice was still thick with tears.

Ana tangled a hand in his hair. "Then do not be so annoying."

Pietro chuckled and slowly pulled away from her. He started smiling at her again, making her heart flutter.

"I am so glad you are okay," he whispered, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. Ana leaned into his warm hand, placing her cold one over his.

"Me too. I'm happy to be here with you," she mumbled. Pietro leaned his forehead against hers, his crystalline blue eyes piercing her own. She missed his eyes- they comforted her.

It was clear to her in that moment.

Anastazya Dmitriev was unconditionally, irrevocably in love with Pietro Maximoff. She just didn't know how to deal with it yet.