Avenging My Thoughts

Wanda Maximoff

“Her Majesty is in labor.”

For one terrible second, the world stopped.

Then everything happened at once. Y/N wheeled Philip around so fast the stallion barely had time to react.

“Y/N—”

Ser Barnes didn't even get to finish.

“Go Philip!” The single word cracked like thunder. Philip surged forward. Y/N dug in their heels. The stallion exploded into motion. The road vanished beneath them. Wind tore at their clothes. Branches blurred past.

All Y/N could hear was the thunder of hooves and the frantic pounding of their own heart.

Wanda. Wait for me my love. Please.

Just let me get there.

Philip ran faster. And Y/N didn't look back.

---

Few Hours Ago

Wanda's POV

The day had started completely normally.

Y/N had kissed her goodbye after breakfast. Twice. Then a third time because apparently the first two hadn't been sufficient.

After that, they'd spent several minutes reminding everyone within hearing distance to send for them immediately if Wanda needed anything. Then they'd reluctantly left with Barnes.

Wanda had laughed.

Y/N had not.

For the first couple of hours, everything felt ordinary. She spent the morning in her study, reading reports, answering correspondence, and listening to Lina enthusiastically explain why the baby would obviously like rabbits more than horses.

Normal. Completely normal.

Then she felt a small discomfort. A tightening low in her abdomen. Not painful just... different. Wanda paused, waiting. The sensation passed and she continued reading.

About an hour later, it happened again.

This time stronger. Enough to make her stop speaking halfway through a sentence. 

Lily immediately noticed. "Your Majesty?"

Wanda offered a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

And she meant it. Probably.

The healers had warned her this could happen. Her body was preparing. Nothing unusual. Then another came.

And another.

And another.

Each one stronger than the last.

By the time the healers arrived, Wanda was no longer in her study. She had been helped back to her chambers and was trying very hard not to panic.

A sharp pain rolled through her body. Wanda gasped, her hand immediately gripping the blankets beneath her.

"Easy," one of the healers said gently. "Easy, Your Majesty."

Easy. Right.

She would remember that the next time her body felt determined to split itself apart.

The pain eased just enough to leave her breathless, sweating, and frustrated. Natasha stood nearby, trying very hard to look calm which she was failing. Mostly because every few minutes Wanda asked the same question.

"Where's Y/N?"

Natasha's expression softened. "They're coming."

Another contraction hit. Harder this time. Wanda cried out despite herself. The healer immediately moved closer, murmuring instructions while checking both her and the baby, but Wanda barely heard any of it.

All she could think about was Y/N.

Where were they?

How far away?

Had someone reached them yet?

Gods...

She needed them.

Another wave of pain crashed through her.

Wanda moaned, one hand instinctively moving to her stomach. The baby shifted as though completely unaware of the chaos they were causing.

Natasha was beside the bed in an instant, taking Wanda's hand.

"You're doing fine."

Wanda let out a weak laugh. "You're a terrible liar."

Natasha snorted. “Sorry.”

Another contraction surged through her. Wanda squeezed Natasha's hand hard enough to make most people complain but Natasha didn't even flinch.

"Where is Y/N?" Wanda asked again.

This time her voice sounded smaller, more vulnerable.

One of the healers glanced toward Natasha.

"They left less than three hours ago," Natasha answered immediately.

Wanda closed her eyes.

Trying to calculate.

Trying not to cry.

Trying not to panic.

The pain returned.

And with it came fear. Not fear of the baby. Not even fear of childbirth. She was afraid Y/N wouldn't make it back in time.

She knew how much this moment meant to them. How terrified they'd been for months. How often she'd found them awake in the middle of the night, one hand resting protectively over her stomach. How many times they'd hidden that fear behind a smile.

Gods...

If Y/N missed this...

Wanda didn't know who would take it harder. Them or her.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Natasha noticed immediately.

"Hey."

Wanda shook her head before finally whispering the truth.

"I want my spouse.”

For just a moment, Natasha's expression cracked. Then she tightened her grip on Wanda's hand. "They're coming."

Another contraction tore through her.

Wanda cried out.

And somewhere beyond the palace walls, she silently begged Y/N to hurry.

---

Y/N's POV

The moment the palace came into view, Y/N urged Philip faster.

The horse thundered through the gates, past startled guards, past servants rushing aside, past anyone unfortunate enough to be standing in the way.

The second Philip stopped in the courtyard, Y/N jumped down. They nearly hit the ground and was already running.

"Your Majesty—"

"Y/N!"

Barnes' voice came from somewhere behind them. They ignored all.

Y/N ran through corridors, up staircases, past servants flattening themselves against the walls to avoid being knocked over. Every heartbeat felt too slow. Every second felt stolen.

Please. Please. Please.

When they reached their wing, they nearly collided with two servants carrying stacks of fresh linens. The women gasped in surprise, and Y/N caught one gently by the shoulders.

"Where is Wanda?"

The servant's eyes widened. "Your chambers, Your Majesty."

Of course. Where else would she be?

Y/N was already moving before the woman finished speaking.

The doors to their chambers stood open. People hurried in and out carrying fresh water, clean linens, and supplies while healers moved with practiced urgency. Y/N's pulse roared in their ears as they headed straight for the doorway.

Then—

"My King."

One of the healers stepped directly into their path. Y/N barely stopped.

The healer bowed quickly. "You cannot enter."

For a second, Y/N simply stared, not understanding.

"What?"

"The Queen is in labor.”

"I am aware."

"It is not customary—"

Y/N's expression darkened instantly.

The healer faltered. "It is not customary for spouses to be present during the birth."

Silence. Even the servants nearby froze.

Y/N stared at him. Then let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"You think I care about custom?"

The healer opened his mouth, but Y/N didn't let him speak.

"My wife is in there."

"My King, tradition—"

"I do not care!” The words came out sharp and certain. "My wife is giving birth to our child."

The healer blinked.

Y/N stepped closer.

"And you think I am going to stand outside because some noble centuries ago decided that was proper?"

"My King—"

"No." Their voice cracked slightly. Not from anger, but from fear. "I am going to be beside her."

The healer looked genuinely surprised, as though the possibility had never occurred to him.

Behind Y/N, Barnes finally caught up, breathing hard from the run. One look at Y/N's face, one look at the healer, and he wisely decided not to get involved.

Y/N glanced toward the doorway before looking back at the healer. "If you intend to stop me, I suggest you reconsider." The healer immediately stepped aside.

Smart man.

Y/N didn't waste another second. They pushed through the doorway.

The first thing they heard was Wanda crying out in pain. The sound hit them like a physical blow. Their heart stopped and the room felt too hot.

Too crowded.

Too bright.

Wanda was on their bed. She was sweating, breathing hard, one hand gripping Natasha's tightly while the other clutched the sheets beneath her.

And gods...

She looked exhausted.

Another contraction hit, making Wanda moan in pain, her eyes squeezing shut.

For one terrible moment, all Y/N could see was every nightmare they'd had these past months. Every fear. Every memory of their mother. Every image they'd tried so desperately to bury.

Then Wanda opened her eyes and saw them.

Y/N was moving before either of them spoke. Their jacket hit the floor first, followed by their sword belt and every weapon they carried. Everything was abandoned without a second thought.

Y/N didn't care. They only had eyes for Wanda.

Natasha stepped back immediately, surprised by the speed with which Y/N crossed the room, giving them space without a word. The healer at the foot of the bed looked equally startled. Perhaps because kings weren't supposed to do this. Perhaps because kings weren't supposed to throw their weapons aside and practically launch themselves toward their wives.

Y/N didn't notice. There was only Wanda.

By the time they reached the bed, their hands were already on her—cupping her face, brushing her hair back, holding her shoulders as if they needed to convince themselves she was really there.

"Wanda..."

Their voice cracked instantly.

Gods...She looked exhausted.

Another tear slipped down her cheek.

Y/N wiped it away at once before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Another kiss.

"I'm sorry."

Her temple.

"I'm sorry."

Her cheek.

"I should've been here."

Another kiss.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda let out a breathless laugh that dissolved into a pained gasp as another contraction began to build.

Y/N's panic returned immediately. "I'm here." They rested their forehead against hers. "I'm here now."

Wanda nodded weakly. One hand found the front of their shirt, gripping the fabric as though she'd been waiting for exactly this. For them.

Y/N kissed her again.

Not her lips.

Her forehead.

Her hairline.

Her cheek.

Everywhere.

Unable to stop. Unable to help themself. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"My love—"

"I'm sorry."

"Y/N."

Their eyes finally met hers.

Despite the pain, despite the labor, Wanda lifted a hand and gently cupped their cheek.

"You came."

The simple words hit harder than anything else. Y/N swallowed hard. They had been terrified the entire ride home. Terrified they'd arrive too late. Terrified history would somehow repeat itself.

Wanda saw it. Of course she did.

She always did.

Another contraction hit hard. Wanda gasped, her hand slipping from Y/N's face to fist in the front of their shirt, pulling them impossibly close. A pained groan escaped her as she buried her face against their shoulder.

Y/N immediately wrapped an arm around her, holding her steady. Trying to hold her together. The healer moved closer to check her progress. A moment later, her eyes widened slightly.

"Your Majesty."

Wanda looked up. The healer smiled gently. "It's time."

The words seemed to freeze the room. The baby was coming.

Now.

The healer looked at Y/N. "My King, normally—"

"No."

The answer came without hesitation making the healer blink in confusion.

Y/N's arm tightened around Wanda. "I am not leaving."

"My King, spouses usually—"

"I do not care what spouses usually do."

Silence settled over the room.

Wanda's grip on their shirt tightened, fear flashing across her face.

Y/N turned to her immediately.

"I'm staying."

The promise was certain.

Wanda let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her features.

The healer watched them for another moment before giving a small, understanding smile.

"Very well."

Another contraction began building. The healer turned back to Wanda. "When the next one comes, Your Majesty... push."

Wanda nodded nervously.

Y/N climbed fully onto the bed beside her without a second thought, ignoring every rule surrounding kings and childbirth. They settled behind her, one arm around her shoulders while the other found her hand, holding her securely against their chest.

Wanda leaned into them instantly. Seeking comfort and strength.

Y/N kissed the side of her head. "You've got this."

Wanda laughed weakly. "Easy for you to say."

“Sorry.” Y/N kiss her temple. "You're still the strongest person I know."

She rolled her eyes, then grabbed them even tighter as another wave of pain crashed through her.

"Oh gods..."

Her arm wrapped around the back of Y/N's neck as she buried her face there, groaning through the contraction.

Y/N felt her trembling. Felt how hard she was fighting. Their heart nearly broke.

"Look at me."

Wanda managed to lift her eyes.

Y/N brushed damp strands of hair from her face until their foreheads rested together.

"I'm right here."

Another breath. Another contraction. Another push.

Wanda cried out.

Y/N held her tighter, whispering encouragements against her hair, her temple, her forehead—whatever came to mind. Whatever helped.

Time blurred. Minutes stretched. The room faded away. There was only Wanda.

Between contractions, Wanda rested against their shoulder, exhausted but determined. Y/N pressed a kiss into her hair and whispered,

"I love you."

Wanda closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I love you too."

But the moment didn’t last long as another contraction hit. Wanda's whole body tensed. A sharp cry escaped her as her fingers dug into Y/N's hand and her other arm tightened around their neck.

Y/N kissed her temple. "That's it."

Wanda shook her head, breathing hard. "It hurts." The words came out broken. Exhausted.

Y/N's heart ached. "I know." Another kiss. "I know, my love."

The healer stayed calm. "Push, Your Majesty."

Wanda groaned and pushed.

Y/N felt every tremble. Every ounce of effort.

Gods...She was incredible.

When it passed, Wanda slumped against their chest, drenched in sweat. Y/N brushed the damp hair from her face and cupped her cheek.

"You're doing so well."

"I think you're biased," Wanda managed weakly.

"Very."

A faint smile crossed her lips before the next contraction stole it away. She buried her face against Y/N's shoulder as the pain came harder, closer together.

The healer guided her. Natasha watched in silent awe.

Y/N never let go. Not once. Every cry, every push, every frightened glance, they were there.

“I’m here." They reminded her again and again. "I'm here."

And every time, Wanda hugged them tighter.

---

Time blurred.

Minutes.

Hours.

The world became nothing but breathing, pushing, Y/N's hand in hers, and their voice in her ear. Then the healer smiled.

"One more, Your Majesty."

The strongest contraction yet crashed through Wanda. She cried out, pushed with everything she had, and clung to Y/N. Until—

A cry.

Tiny, and sharp. For one impossible second, the room fell still.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Then it came again.

Louder.

Wanda's eyes filled with tears. A sob escaped her. Something inside Y/N gave way. Not from fear. Not from grief. From overwhelming relief.

The healer laughed softly—a beautiful sound—before looking up, her eyes shining. "Congratulations, Your Majesties." A smile spread across her face. "It's a girl."

For a moment, neither Wanda nor Y/N spoke.

A girl.

They had a daughter.

The healer carefully wrapped the tiny baby in a soft blanket. The little girl immediately protested the entire process with another loud cry, which somehow only made Wanda cry harder. And Y/N too.

The healer approached the bed, naturally heading toward Y/N first. The king. The father. But Y/N immediately shook their head. "Her first."

Their voice broke.

The healer paused in surprise before smiling softly and placing the baby into Wanda's arms.

The second the tiny bundle settled against her chest, Wanda let out a sob—not from pain, not from exhaustion, but from love. Instant. Overwhelming. Complete.

"Oh..."

The word was barely more than a breath.

Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as their daughter's tiny face peeked out from the blanket. Small. Red. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Y/N carefully wrapped one arm around Wanda's waist while the other slipped beneath the arm cradling the baby, supporting them both. Protecting them both. They leaned over Wanda's shoulder, took one look at their daughter, and immediately started crying again.

Gods. She was so small. So impossibly small.

Their daughter let out another tiny cry before slowly settling, instinctively curling against Wanda's warmth. The crying faded. Her tiny body relaxed.

Safe.

Wanda laughed through her tears. "Hi, sweetheart."

The baby made a tiny sound, and Y/N completely melted.

"Hello." Their voice cracked so badly they barely recognized it.

The baby opened her eyes for only a moment, too young to focus on anything, yet Y/N felt their entire heart stop anyway.

"Oh, gods."

One tear became another, then another. They couldn't stop crying. They didn't want to.

"She's beautiful."

Wanda nodded immediately. "She is."

Y/N gently touched one tiny hand. Their daughter instantly wrapped her fingers around one of theirs. Just a reflex. Nothing more.

Yet Y/N nearly broke.

A choked laugh escaped them, followed by another sob, and suddenly they were crying into Wanda's shoulder again.

The king of Virelia, reduced to tears by a hand no larger than their thumb.

Wanda kissed their temple lovingly, understanding completely because she felt exactly the same. When their daughter let out the tiniest yawn imaginable, both parents stared at her as though she'd performed a miracle.

Which, honestly, she had.

Several minutes passed like that, the rest of the room fading away. The healers. Natasha. Everyone else. Nothing mattered anymore.

Only this.

Only them.

Their family.

Eventually, Y/N brushed away another tear and looked from Wanda to the baby, then back again.

"What should we call her?"

Wanda smiled softly. "You're the king."

Y/N let out a quiet snort. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means you should choose."

"No."

Wanda laughed weakly. "Y/N."

"It doesn't matter."

And it truly didn't. Not compared to this. Not compared to her.

"You choose."

Wanda studied them for a long moment—the tears still shining in their eyes, the way they couldn't stop looking at their daughter, the way they held both of them as though they might disappear if they let go. Then she smiled, full of love and quiet understanding.

She leaned forward and kissed them, slow and tender. Y/N kissed her back without hesitation.

When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against theirs and whispered,

"Then her name is Eleonora."

Everything stopped.

Y/N froze.

The room fell silent.

Even their breathing seemed to pause.

Eleonora.

For a long moment, they couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Their eyes filled again, harder this time, because suddenly they could see their mother. The gardens, letters, the diary, the portrait.

The woman who had loved them fiercely until her final breath.

And now...

Their daughter.

Alive. Safe and loved.

Y/N looked down at little Eleonora sleeping peacefully in Wanda's arms, then back at Wanda, and completely failed to hold back the tears.

"Wanda..."

Their voice broke.

Wanda reached up and gently cupped their cheek, smiling through her own tears. Y/N rested their forehead against hers, one hand carefully settling over their daughter's tiny back.

For the first time in their life, when they thought of Eleonora...

It didn't hurt.

Not completely.

Because a part of her lived on.

Not reborn.

Not replaced.

But remembered.

Loved.

And carried forward.

In the tiny little girl sleeping safely in their wife’s arms.

---

Few Days Later

A few days later...

The sound of crying pulled Y/N from sleep.

A tiny cry. Small, indignant and very familiar.

Y/N groaned immediately, burying their face deeper into Wanda's neck as the baby continued protesting from the crib beside their bed, apparently convinced the entire kingdom needed to be awake.

Right now.

Wanda let out a sleepy laugh, one hand finding Y/N's hair.

"Sorry."

Y/N pressed a kiss against her neck. "You didn't do anything."

Another cry echoed through the room.

Wanda sighed. "I'll get her."

"No."

Y/N tightened their arm around her for a brief moment before kissing her jaw. "I've got her."

"My love—"

"I've got her."

Wanda smiled softly. There was no arguing once Y/N used that tone.

The king reluctantly pushed themself upright, looking about as exhausted as anyone expected from a parent who hadn't slept properly in days.

And yet...

There was still a smile on their face.

They crossed the short distance to the crib. Little Eleonora's tiny fists waved helplessly as she cried, her little face scrunched with all the seriousness only a newborn could manage.

Y/N leaned over the crib and instantly melted.

Gods. They would never get used to this.

"Hey, little one."

Their voice was barely above a whisper.

They carefully checked her blanket, then her diaper.

Dry and clean.

Y/N frowned thoughtfully before looking back down at her.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Eleonora answered with another tiny cry.

Y/N smiled despite themself and carefully lifted her into their arms.

Almost immediately, the crying softened. The tiny bundle settled against their chest, her little body relaxing against their warmth, and Y/N felt their heart tighten with the same overwhelming love it always did every single time.

They gently rubbed a hand over her tiny back before turning toward the bed.

Wanda was already watching them.

The expression on her face nearly stole Y/N's breath.

Pure love and adoration for both of them.

She had pushed herself upright against the headboard, gathering the blanket around herself as she quietly held out her arms, ready to feed their daughter.

Y/N smiled immediately. The kind reserved only for family. Only for them.

“Where’s my baby?” Wanda held out her arms. Eleonora immediately turned toward the sound of her mother's voice.

Y/N's smile deepened. "Someone's hungry."

Eleonora answered with another tiny, impatient sound.

Y/N smiled as they carefully placed their daughter into Wanda's waiting arms. The moment Eleonora settled against her mother, her tiny body relaxed, already recognizing Wanda's warmth, her scent, her heartbeat.

Home.

Wanda opened her chemise and gently guided Eleonora closer. Within moments, their daughter latched, and the little cries faded into quiet contentment.

Peace returned.

For now.

Y/N watched with the same quiet wonder they felt every time. They settled beside Wanda on the bed, one arm resting behind her shoulders, unable to look away.

Watching Eleonora's tiny hand curl instinctively against Wanda.

Watching Wanda's expression soften with every passing second.

Watching the quiet, effortless love between mother and daughter.

After a moment, Wanda glanced over and found Y/N staring.

Again.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

"What?"

Y/N shook their head, still smiling. "Nothing."

"You're staring."

"I know."

Wanda's smile only grew.

Y/N looked back down at Eleonora, their eyes impossibly gentle.

"I just..."

Their voice trailed off.

There were no words for this. No words for waking beside Wanda. For hearing their daughter's cries in the early morning. For carrying her across the room. For watching the two people they loved most in the world together in the soft morning light.

Y/N reached beneath the blanket and gently brushed a finger over Eleonora's tiny foot.

She answered with the smallest little kick.

A smile spread across Y/N's face.

"Hi, little one."

For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply sat together, the room filled only with Eleonora's quiet nursing sounds and the distant murmur of the palace beginning another day.

Y/N rested their head lightly against Wanda's shoulder.

Tired but happy.

The feeling still felt unfamiliar.

But with each passing day, it felt a little more like home.

After a few quiet minutes, Wanda felt Y/N press a gentle kiss against her shoulder.

Then another.

Then they pressed another gentle kiss to Eleonora's head. But the baby barely reacted. Far too content with breakfast.

Y/N smiled.

"So this is more important than me now?"

Eleonora remained happily nestled against Wanda, completely absorbed in nursing.

A quiet laugh escaped Wanda, warm enough to fill the room.

Y/N looked over at her and found themself smiling too.

That sound...It had become one of their favorite things in the world.

A moment later, Eleonora's tiny hand opened and closed against Wanda's chest. The movement immediately caught Y/N's attention. Their expression softened as they slowly offered a finger.

Without even looking, the baby's tiny hand wrapped around it. A simple instinct nothing more, And yet Y/N loved when she did that.

Wanda watched the smile bloom across their face, the love that seemed too big to contain. Wanda rested her head against their shoulder, watching them watch Nora.

"You adore her."

Y/N smiled without taking their eyes off their daughter.

"I really do."

The quiet certainty in their voice made Wanda's chest tighten.

Y/N had always loved with everything they had.

And now that boundless love belonged to a tiny little girl who didn't even realize she already held her parents' hearts in her little hand.

Y/N gently brushed a fingertip over Eleonora's soft cheek. Her tiny nose scrunched almost immediately, a sleepy little frown crossing her face.

They both smiled before their eyes met again. And at the exact same moment—"She looks like you."

The words left them together.

For a heartbeat, they simply stared at one another. Then they laughed quietly.

Eleonora stirred at the sound before settling again against Wanda.

Y/N looked from their daughter to Wanda, then back again. That familiar tenderness returned to their eyes—the same quiet gentleness Wanda had fallen in love with long before either of them had understood what it meant.

Leaning forward, Y/N pressed another gentle kiss to Eleonora's forehead, and another kiss to Wanda's temple. Before wrapping an arm around both of them, holding them close.

For a while, the room remained peaceful.

Eleonora continued nursing with the quiet determination only a newborn could have, while Y/N and Wanda simply watched her, neither of them quite able to believe she was real.

Eventually, the little girl began to slow. The eager rhythm became gentler, sleepier, until it stopped altogether. A tiny, milk-drunk sigh escaped her.

Wanda smiled immediately.

“Good job sweetheart.“

Eleonora blinked slowly, looking perfectly content.

Y/N's smile softened. "I think someone's full."

The baby answered with the tiniest yawn, impossibly big for someone so small.

Wanda carefully adjusted her chemise before looking at Y/N.

"Your turn."

Y/N was already holding out their arms.

The transfer was smooth. The moment Eleonora settled against their chest, Y/N instinctively adjusted her, one hand supporting her tiny body while the other gently rubbed slow circles across her back.

Wanda watched quietly.

Gods. They looked so natural. So gentle.

Y/N began pacing slowly beside the bed, tiny pats against Eleonora's back accompanied by soft murmurs only she was ever meant to hear.

"There you go, little one."

"That's it."

"I'm right here."

A moment later, Eleonora let out a tiny burp.

Y/N paused, then looked down at her with a smile.

"There you are."

Eleonora gave a sleepy little sigh and settled even closer against their chest.

Y/N couldn't help smiling as they gently kissed the top of her head before continuing to rub her back.

Just then, three polite knocks sounded at the chamber door.

Then Lily's voice.

"Your Majesties?"

Wanda smiled immediately.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Lily stepped inside. One look at the room made her expression soften. The king standing barefoot beside the bed, cradling a sleepy baby. The queen looking happier than Lily had ever seen her.

Morning sunlight spilling across the room. The crib beside the bed. A home already overflowing with quiet love.

"I didn't wish to interrupt."

"You didn't," Wanda assured her.

Lily inclined her head.

"May I bring breakfast now?"

At the mention of breakfast, Y/N blinked, only then remembering they hadn't eaten.

Wanda noticed at once, a fond smile touching her lips.

"You've been holding her so closely, I don't think you've thought about anything else."

Y/N glanced down at Eleonora, sleeping peacefully against their chest, and smiled.

"I suppose not."

Lily's own smile warmed. "I'll bring everything right away."

She quietly excused herself, leaving the door slightly open as servants began preparing breakfast outside.

Y/N looked down at their daughter. Then at Wanda.

For one last quiet moment, before breakfast arrived and before the responsibilities of a kingdom returned, Y/N simply stood there holding their daughter while Wanda watched them.

Neither of them spoke. Neither needed to.

Some mornings deserved nothing more than silence, love, and the quiet certainty that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

---

Wanda's POV

Later that morning, after Y/N reluctantly returned to their royal duties, the chambers felt strangely quiet.

The room still carried the faint scent of breakfast. Eleonora slept peacefully in the crib beside the bed, and Wanda was grateful for that.

Because gods, everything hurt. Not unbearably, but it did.

The healers had reassured her countless times that she was recovering well, but she was still sore, still tired, and every movement reminded her she'd given birth only a few days ago.

Y/N had spent the entire morning reminding her to rest. Repeatedly.

As though she intended to climb onto a horse and ride across the kingdom.

"Stay in bed."

"I know."

"Actually rest."

"I know."

"No walking around the palace."

"My love—"

"No stairs."

Wanda had laughed until her sides ached. Y/N had answered by kissing her forehead, then their daughter’s, before pressing one last kiss to Wanda's lips and leaving for their meetings looking thoroughly reluctant.

Wanda smile with the memory when someone knock at the door.

Lina.

The chamber door opened just enough for her to slip inside before she quietly closed it behind her.

“Wanda…”

Wanda looked up from the book resting in her lap.

Lina stood in the doorway, already dressed for her lessons, her hair neatly braided and several books tucked beneath one arm. She was clearly trying to be quiet.

Trying.

"Good morning." Wanda smile.

Lina's face immediately brightened.

"Good morning!"

She caught herself almost instantly, lowering her voice as her eyes darted toward the crib.

Wanda smiled.

"Shouldn't you be heading to your lessons?"

"Yes."

A pause.

"I am."

Another pause.

"I just wanted to see Nora first."

Wanda laughed softly.

There it was. The real reason.

Lina hurried to the crib and immediately peeked inside. Her eyes widened with the same wonder she wore every morning.

"She's still tiny."

Wanda smiled. "She is."

"Very tiny."

After another long look at her sleeping niece, Lina turned back toward Wanda.

"How are you feeling?"

The question caught Wanda by surprise. It sounded exactly like something Y/N would ask.

She smiled. "I'm okay."

Lina narrowed her eyes just like Y/N. "Really?"

"Really."

Satisfied—mostly—Lina carefully climbed onto the edge of the bed beside her, making sure not to jostle Wanda. She leaned gently against her side, careful of all the places Y/N had already warned everyone to avoid.

Her gaze drifted back to the crib.

"She's so cute."

"She is."

A quiet smile spread across Lina's face.

“Y/N always look at her like she is the most precious thing in the world."

"Because she is and so are you.” Wanda caress Lina’s hair.

She slipped an arm gently around Lina's shoulders.

"You're very precious too little one.”

Lina smiled shyly before resting her head against Wanda's shoulder, the two of them watching Eleonora sleep.

The room was quiet again but peaceful.

After a while, Lina spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you."

Wanda blinked.

"For what?"

Lina looked at Eleonora before meeting Wanda's eyes.

"For staying after giving birth to Nora.”

The words settled deep in Wanda's heart. She knew exactly where they came from. The fear Lina still carried of losing someone she loved.

Wanda reached over and gently brushed a few loose strands of hair behind Lina's ear.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Lina smiled. Then she carefully wrapped her arms around Wanda in a gentle hug.

The kind only a child who felt completely safe could give.

Wanda hugged her back.

For a moment, her thoughts drifted to her mother-in-law. To the woman who would have loved this. Who would have adored her granddaughter. Who would have been endlessly proud of the family her children had built.

A tiny squeak suddenly came from the crib.

Both Wanda and Lina turned at once.

Eleonora stretched, made another sleepy little sound, then settled right back to sleep.

Lina smiled so brightly it made Wanda smile too.

And just like that, the morning carried on—with a queen recovering in bed, an older sister already hopelessly devoted to her niece, and a tiny newborn who had quietly become the heart of the palace.

---

A Month Later

A month passed. And somehow...

It had been both the longest month of Wanda's life and the shortest.

The days blurred together. Feeding Nora. Sleeping whenever Nora allowed it. Discovering that someone so tiny could somehow create mountains of laundry. Learning that every unfamiliar sound could send both parents rushing to the crib.

And realizing Y/N was completely, hopelessly in love with their daughter.

Not that Wanda was any better.

The first week had been pure chaos.

The second, slightly less so.

By the third, they had begun to recognize Nora's different cries.

Hungry. Sleepy. Upset. Wanting to be held.

And one particular cry that Y/N swore was reserved exclusively for summoning them from anywhere in the palace.

Somehow...

It always worked.

The entire palace had fallen in love with Nora.

Lina most of all.

She visited every day—sometimes twice, sometimes three times—always with a reason. She wanted to read Nora a story, show her a flower, share a drawing, or tell her all about her lessons.

Nora understood none of it. But Lina never seemed to mind.

Even Natasha had quietly surrendered.

Though she'd deny it until the end of time.

Wanda had once found her cradling Nora while calmly explaining military strategy to a baby barely a week old. Natasha insisted it was never too early to learn.

Wanda and Y/N had laughed all afternoon.

And Y/N...

Gods. They had become impossible.

In the sweetest way.

Every morning began by checking that Nora was breathing. Every night ended the same way.

Sometimes Wanda woke to find Y/N standing beside the crib, simply watching their daughter sleep. Not out of fear. Just wonder. As though they still couldn't quite believe she was real.

The fear that had followed them throughout the pregnancy had faded. Not completely. Wanda wasn't sure it ever truly would.

But now, whenever Y/N looked at Nora, there was far more wonder than worry. Far more love than fear. 

And Nora was changing. Growing a little heavier each week. Staying awake a little longer. Watching the world with growing curiosity. More and more often, Wanda caught Nora following Y/N with her eyes whenever they crossed the room.

Every single time, Y/N looked completely captivated.

Life had settled into something beautiful. Something ordinary. The kind of ordinary Wanda had once believed she'd never have.

A spouse she adored. A daughter. A family. A home.

Which was why today's excitement felt different.

Today wasn't about councils. Or reports. Or royal duties.

Today was about family.

She hadn't seen her parents in months. Not since before Nora's birth.

They had exchanged countless letters, of course. Her mother always demanded updates, while her father insisted he wasn't worried before quietly filling the bottom of every letter with questions.

How is Wanda? How is the baby? Has she smiled yet? Is she sleeping well? Is Y/N helping her?

That last question appeared far more often than the others.

Now they were finally here. Coming to meet their granddaughter. And Wanda could hardly contain her excitement.

By the time the royal carriage rolled through the palace gates, both she and Y/N were already waiting outside. The weather was pleasant, guards stood at attention, and servants moved quietly around the courtyard.

Inside the palace, Lily was watching over Nora. Who, for once…was asleep.

The carriage came to a stop, the Sokovian crest gleaming across its doors. Beside her, Y/N gave her hand a gentle squeeze, feeling her growing excitement without a word.

A servant stepped forward and opened the door. Before anyone could announce their arrival—Wanda's mother had already stepped down.

She looked every bit the queen. Elegant and regal.

Until her eyes found Wanda.

In an instant, the queen disappeared. Leaving only a mother. "Wanda."

Wanda laughed softly and hurried forward, wrapping her arms around her. Months apart vanished the moment they embraced.

When they finally pulled back, her mother cupped her face with both hands, carefully looking her over.

"You look well."

"So do you."

"You look tired."

“I have a baby now.”

That made her mother laugh.

Behind them, Wanda's father stepped down from the carriage with all the dignity expected of a king. For exactly three seconds.

The moment he saw Wanda, he opened his arms. Wanda laughed again and stepped into another warm embrace. For a little while…she wasn't Queen of Virelia.

She was simply a daughter.

Eventually, King Erik turned toward Y/N. Unlike Wanda and Queen Natalya, he didn't step forward immediately.

There was still a quiet formality between them. Respect. But not yet the easy familiarity Y/N shared with his wife.

"King Y/N."

Erik extended his hand. Y/N smiled and accepted it.

"King Erik."

The handshake was firm. Respectful. The kind exchanged between two rulers.

"It's good to have you here."

“Thank you. It’s good to be here."

Erik's gaze briefly shifted to Wanda, silently confirming that she looked healthy and happy. Only then did he look back at Y/N. "You seem well."

Y/N glanced toward Wanda, a gentle smile appearing without thought. "I am."

The simple answer seemed to satisfy him. At least a little. Before either man could say another word, Queen Natalya stepped forward. And completely ignored protocol.

"Oh, enough of that."

Neither king had time to react before she wrapped Y/N in a warm embrace.

Y/N laughed immediately. The formal atmosphere disappeared at once.

“Queen Natalya."

"Y/N."

She held them for a moment before pulling back to look them over, just as she'd done with Wanda.

"You look exhausted."

Y/N laughed softly. "I suppose I do."

"You do."

"I have a one-month-old daughter."

Natalya regarded them with perfect seriousness. "And?"

Y/N could only laugh again.

Beside them, Wanda shook her head, smiling fondly. Nothing had changed.

Natalya reached up and brushed a loose lock of Y/N's hair back into place. An instinctively maternal gesture. One she didn't even seem to realize she'd made.

Y/N simply smiled. Not embarrassed. Just... quietly fond.

The look didn't escape Wanda. Because after their mother, Y/N had never really known adults who fussed over them like this. And her mother either didn't realize what those small gestures meant to them...Or she knew exactly what she was doing.

With her mother, it was impossible to tell.

Wanda smiled to herself before looking around. "Where's Pietro?"

Erik answered with a sigh. "Someone had to remain in Sokovia."

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You left Pietro in charge?"

"I ordered him to stay."

Natalya laughed. "He complained."

"A great deal," Erik added.

"He insisted we were depriving him of his right to meet his niece first."

"He also informed us several times that he would make an excellent uncle," Natalya said with a fond shake of her head. "Then he complained some more."

"But," Erik finished, "he stayed."

Wanda smiled. "That sounds like Pietro."

Y/N chuckled.

Erik looked between them before lifting a hand. "Enough talking.” His voice carried all the patience of a grandfather who had waited an entire month. "I've answered enough questions."

He looked directly at Wanda. "Where is my granddaughter?"

Both Wanda and Y/N laughed.

"I thought you'd at least wait until we were inside," Wanda teased.

"I've waited a month."

"A very long month," Natalya agreed.

Y/N smiled.

"Why don't we go inside first?"

They gestured toward the palace entrance, guiding everyone through the grand doors while servants quietly carried the royal family's luggage toward the guest wing.

As they walked through the halls, Natalya brightened. "Oh! I almost forgot."

She looked between Wanda and Y/N.

"I brought gifts for everyone."

Wanda laughed.

"Mother, you didn't have to."

"Of course I did."

"For us too?"

"For everyone," Natalya repeated matter-of-factly. "My granddaughter deserves gifts, my daughter deserves gifts, my son-in-law deserves gifts, Lina deserves gifts..."

She looked at Erik.

"You'll all see them later."

By the time they reached one of the palace sitting rooms, tea had already been prepared. Fresh pastries, cakes, fruit, and warm bread covered the table, waiting for them.

Everyone settled into their seats, conversation beginning almost immediately.

Then, a soft knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get it," Wanda said, rising carefully.

She opened it to find Lily waiting outside, smiling gently. "My Queen."

In her arms rested a sleepy little bundle wrapped in a pale blanket.

Wanda's face immediately softened. "Thank you."

She carefully took Nora into her arms before turning back toward the room.

The moment Queen Natalya saw the tiny baby, she was on her feet. A delighted gasp escaped her lips.

"Oh..."

Wanda walked back toward her parents, Nora sleeping peacefully in her arms.

Erik rose from his chair beside Natalya. The moment Natalya and Erik caught sight of the tiny face peeking out from the blanket, both of them fell silent. "Oh..."

Natalya breathed the word more than she spoke it.

"So small."

"So beautiful."

She reached out hesitantly, as though afraid she might disturb her granddaughter, and gently caressed Nora's soft cheek with the back of her fingers. Tears immediately filled her eyes.

"She's beautiful."

Wanda's own smile grew softer. "I know."

Natalya looked up at her daughter, her expression overflowing with pride. Carefully, making sure not to jostle the sleeping baby between them, she leaned forward and wrapped Wanda in a gentle embrace. "You did so well." She kissed Wanda's temple. "You and Y/N both."

Wanda closed her eyes for a brief moment, returning the hug as best she could. "Thank you."

When they pulled apart, Wanda looked at her mother.

"Would you like to hold her?"

Natalya didn't hesitate. "Oh, yes."

Wanda carefully transferred Nora into her waiting arms.

The queen of Sokovia cradled her granddaughter as though she were the most precious treasure in the world, instinctively rocking her ever so slightly.

"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm your grandmother."

Nora slept peacefully through the introduction, nestled securely against Natalya's chest.

Erik stepped closer, his usual regal composure melting away. He gently brushed a hand over the baby's impossibly soft hair. "And I'm your grandfather." His voice was quieter than anyone had ever heard it.

"So we've finally met." Natalya smiled without taking her eyes off Nora. "I've been waiting for this for months."

"So have I," Erik admitted.

Wanda stood quietly, watching her parents with a smile she couldn't contain. A familiar warmth settled behind her as Y/N stepped beside her, slipping both arms gently around her waist. Wanda instinctively leaned back against them, resting comfortably within their embrace.

Together, they watched Natalya and Erik completely lose themselves in their granddaughter. Neither king nor queen remained. Only grandparents.

The quiet moment was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.

Everyone looked up.

"Come in," Y/N called.

The door opened just enough for a small head to peek inside.

Lina.

The moment her eyes landed on the visitors, her face lit up.

"Queen Natalya!"

Natalya laughed warmly. "There you are."

Without hesitation, she carefully passed Nora into Erik's waiting arms before opening both arms toward the little girl.

Lina hurried across the room and wrapped herself around Natalya in a tight hug.

Natalya held her just as tightly. "Oh, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Lina admitted, her voice muffled against the queen's shoulder.

Natalya pulled back just enough to look at her. "And how have you been?"

"I've been good."

Lina smiled brightly. "I really missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart." Natalya pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head before smoothing back a few stray strands of hair.

"Well," she said with a smile, "I brought gifts."

Lina's eyes grew wide. "You did?"

"Of course I did."

"For me too?"

"For everyone."

Lina beamed. "Thank you!"

"You're very welcome."

Across the room, Y/N watched the exchange in quiet silence. A soft smile settled on their face. Watching Lina laugh so easily. Watching Natalya fuss over her with the same effortless warmth she'd always shown. Watching the little family they had somehow built around themselves.

For just a moment, the room felt impossibly full.

Full of laughter. Full of love.

---

And somehow—the entire palace already felt louder before the celebration had even properly begun. Servants hurried through corridors carrying ribbons, flowers, trays of sweets, tiny dragon decorations Lina had personally demanded, and enough pastries to feed half the kingdom.

Exactly as she deserved.

Y/N had just finished dressing when they stepped out from the bath chambers, adjusting the cuffs of their deep blue royal coat one last time.

The fabric was heavy and elegant against their skin, embroidered silver catching the warm candlelight with every movement. Their cape fell behind them in dark royal waves, boots polished, belt fastened neatly at their waist.

Honestly—they had not intended to dress this formally. But Lina had apparently informed the entire palace three days ago that her sibling needed to look “properly kingly” for her royal ball. So here they were. Overdressed for a seven-year-old.

The moment they stepped fully into the room, Lily looked up from where she had been finishing Wanda’s hair. And then Wanda turned too.

Gods.

The look on her face hit Y/N harder than expected. Warm. Slowly appreciative. Completely in love.

Wanda stood immediately from the vanity chair, one hand resting automatically beneath her stomach now swollen beautifully with their child.

“You look so good,” she breathed as she crossed the room toward them.

Y/N smiled instantly. “There’s my queen.”

Wanda reached them and leaned up carefully to kiss them. Soft at first. Then slightly deeper when Y/N’s hand settled instinctively at her waist.

Y/N hummed softly against her lips.

“Thank you,” they murmured warmly once they parted. Their eyes swept over her slowly after that. And gods—Wanda looked breathtaking.

Her gown flowed elegantly around her figure, soft fabrics draping beautifully over the curve of her pregnancy while Lily had styled her hair partially pinned back with delicate silver pieces woven through the curls. Completely radiant.

“You look beautiful,” Y/N said honestly, voice softer now. “Actually unfairly beautiful.”

Wanda smiled immediately at that. “You say that every time.”

“Because it is the truth.”

Wanda shook her head softly, though the pleased warmth in her expression made it clear she loved hearing it anyway.

Y/N offered her their arm with exaggerated royal elegance. “My queen.”

Wanda laughed quietly and slipped her hand around their arm. Together, they left the chambers and made their way through the palace corridors toward the ballroom.

The castle was glowing tonight. Golden candlelight flickered against polished stone walls while dragon banners Lina had personally approved hung proudly throughout the halls. Servants hurried around with trays of sweets and sparkling drinks while distant music drifted through the palace already.

Y/N could hear children laughing somewhere below.

Good. That was exactly what they wanted. Not stiff silence. Not political performances. Life and warmth, a real celebration.

As they reached the grand hallway just before the ballroom entrance, guards straightened immediately at their approach. Y/N and Wanda paused there briefly, waiting for Lina’s arrival before the official presentation into the ballroom.

Wanda squeezed their arm gently. “Nervous?”

Y/N looked personally offended. “I’ve survived wars.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “…A little.”

Because somehow Lina’s happiness mattered more than most diplomatic meetings ever had.

Wanda smiled knowingly.

Voices approached from the far corridor. And a second later—Lina appeared. Escorted proudly by Ser Rogers.

Y/N’s heart nearly stopped. Gods. Lina looked so small and so regal at the same time, and exactly as their mother.

Her outfit matched the theme perfectly—royal blue with silver dragon embroidery across the front, a tiny cape flowing dramatically behind her because apparently subtlety no longer existed in this family. Her hair had been carefully styled, though several strands already escaped from obvious excitement. And the grin on her face—pure sunshine.

The second she spotted them, her eyes lit up completely.

“Y/N!”

She immediately forgot royal composure and ran the rest of the way toward them. Steve sighed behind her with the exhausted fondness of a man who had clearly lost this battle several times already tonight.

Y/N laughed softly and crouched just in time to catch Lina as she launched herself at them. “There’s the birthday dragon,” they murmured warmly, lifting her easily into their arms.

Lina gasped dramatically at their outfit the second she leaned back enough to properly see them.

“You dressed like a real king!”

Y/N looked down at themself thoughtfully. “I should hope so.”

“No, but like—a storybook king.”

Wanda laughed softly beside them.

Lina turned immediately toward her too. “And Wanda looks like a queen from the dragon mountains!”

Wanda smiled warmly. “That sounds very impressive.”

“It is.” Lina nodded seriously before lowering her voice slightly toward Y/N. “I told everyone tonight has to feel magical.”

Y/N’s chest tightened painfully with affection. “Well,” they whispered back conspiratorially, “I think you already succeeded.”

Lina beamed. Then finally noticed Steve still standing nearby trying very hard not to smile too visibly.

“And Ser Rogers helped me practice dancing!”

Steve looked immediately betrayed. “That information was supposed to remain private.”

Lina gasped. “Oh no.”

Y/N grinned instantly. “Too late.”

Steve sighed while Wanda laughed softly beside them, the sound warm as it echoed through the corridor. Then the large ballroom doors began to open. The music softened. Conversations quieted. Immediately, Lina straightened, her eyes widening slightly. And the realization finally hit.

It was time.

Y/N smiled and crouched in front of her. “Nervous?”

Lina nodded once, then immediately shook her head, then nodded again.

Wanda laughed gently. Y/N took one of Lina’s small hands and gave it a squeeze. “You know the secret?”

“What secret?”

“Everyone in there is already hoping you have fun.”

Lina blinked. “They are?”

“Of course.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little. Y/N smiled and stood, carefully setting her back on her feet.

“You ready?”

Lina took a deep breath and nodded firmly. “Ready.”

A servant stepped forward, and the doors opened fully. The ballroom beyond glowed beneath hundreds of candles. Music drifted through the enormous space as nobles, knights, servants, merchants, villagers, and children alike turned toward the entrance. The servant struck the floor with his staff.

“Their Majesty, King Y/N of Virelia.” The room applauded immediately. 

“Her Majesty, Queen Wanda of Virelia.” More applause followed.

Y/N offered Wanda their arm, and together they entered the ballroom. The applause grew louder—warm, genuine, nothing like the forced court ceremonies they remembered from childhood. These people loved Wanda, and many of them are starting to love Y/N too. It still surprised them sometimes.

They reached the center of the ballroom before the servant spoke again, his voice carrying proudly through the hall.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Lina of Virelia.”

The room erupted. Louder than before. Lina appeared beside Steve, who escorted her with all the seriousness of a royal knight despite the tiny dragon cape fluttering behind her. Her eyes widened. People were cheering. Actually cheering. Servants, knights, children, villagers—everyone.

Y/N watched realization spread across their face. Then the biggest smile imaginable appeared. Suddenly the entire room seemed brighter. Wanda squeezed Y/N’s hand, and Y/N squeezed right back.

Gods. They would burn kingdoms before letting that smile disappear.

---

It was time for the first dance. Y/N stepped forward and bowed dramatically in front of Lina. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”

Lina immediately burst into giggles before copying Wanda's etiquette lessons and offering a surprisingly graceful curtsy. “You may.”

The ballroom laughed affectionately as the music began. Y/N took her hand and guided her gently into the dance. Lina missed several steps, stepped on Y/N's boot twice, spun the wrong direction once, and laughed through the entire thing. Y/N couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Wanda.

Around them, the guests watched fondly as king and princess danced together beneath golden chandeliers. For a few precious minutes, Lina was the center of the world—exactly where she deserved to be.

When the song ended, applause filled the ballroom once more. Lina bowed dramatically. Y/N bowed even lower, which immediately made her laugh.

Then Steve stepped forward. “May I have the next dance, Your Highness?”

Lina instantly straightened, clearly trying to look very royal. “You may.”

Steve offered his arm, and Lina took it proudly as the next dance began. As promised, the rest of the guests were now invited to join. The ballroom quickly filled with movement. Children darted between adults, laughter mixed with music, and the celebration finally settled into a joyful rhythm.

Then Y/N felt a familiar hand slip into theirs.

Wanda.

Their eyes met instantly. Neither needed to ask.

Y/N gently pulled her toward the dance floor. “My queen.”

Wanda smiled. “My king.”

Then they began to dance. Slowly. Comfortably.

Y/N careful of her pregnancy. Wanda leaning closer whenever she pleased. Their foreheads brushed once, then again, and Y/N found themself smiling for no reason other than the simple fact that Wanda existed.

Nearby, another scene was unfolding.

Barnes stood awkwardly beside the refreshments, looking deeply uncomfortable, which naturally meant Natasha was enjoying herself.

“Dance with me.” Nat smirk.

Barnes blinked. “Was that an order?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s abuse of authority.”

Natasha smirk wider.

Barnes sighed and offered his hand anyway. Natasha’s smile softened instantly as she accepted it, and together they disappeared into the crowd.

The ballroom buzzed with life around them. Music filled the air while children ran between tables, knights attempted dancing, and servants openly enjoyed the celebration without worrying about noble etiquette for once. Exactly the atmosphere Y/N had hoped for.

Their eyes darting back at Lina.

She had apparently escaped from the dance floor and was now standing near one of the dessert tables, examining a dragon-shaped pastry with intense concentration.

Y/N smiled, but it died when they saw someone approaching her.

Eren.

The boy had clearly spent the last several minutes gathering courage. He straightened his jacket, fixed his hair, and marched toward Lina with the determination of a knight heading into battle.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered.

Beside them, Wanda followed their gaze and immediately started smiling.

Eren stopped in front of Lina. She looked up from her pastry. The boy visibly swallowed before giving a surprisingly formal bow for a ten-year-old.

Y/N took one step forward.

Immediately, Wanda grabbed their arm.

“Oh no.”

Y/N stared at her. “What do you mean, ‘oh no’?”

“You’re not interfering.”

“I wasn’t going to interfere.”

“You literally took a step.”

“I was observing.”

Wanda laughed.

Meanwhile, Eren was clearly trying very hard to speak like an adult. Lina listened attentively. Then her face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.

Y/N narrowed their eyes. “What did she agree to?”

“A dance,” Wanda answered immediately.

Y/N took another step.

Wanda physically pulled them back.

“No.”

“Wanda.”

“No.”

“He’s circling.”

Wanda burst out laughing.

“He’s ten.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not helping your argument.”

Y/N folded their arms. “She didn’t even had a debut yet.”

“Y/N.”

“He has a strategy.”

“He is ten.”

“He has intentions.”

“He is ten.”

Y/N pointed dramatically toward the children.

“Look at him.”

Eren was currently offering Lina his hand with all the seriousness of a fairytale prince. Wanda had to cover her mouth to stop laughing.

“He’s courting.”

“He asked her to dance at her birthday party.”

“Exactly.”

Finally, Wanda reached up and cupped Y/N’s cheek, forcing them to look at her instead of the dance floor. Their expression remained deeply suspicious.

“My love.”

“What?”

“He is ten.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you acting like he’s about to propose marriage?”

Y/N opened their mouth, paused, then stubbornly answered, “Because he’s going after my little sister.”

Wanda’s eyes softened immediately. She leaned up and kissed them—quick, warm, affectionate.

When she pulled back, Y/N still looked unconvinced. Which only made her laugh harder.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

The answer came far too quickly making Wanda laughed immediately.

Y/N looked betrayed. “I’m not.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

Still smiling, Wanda kissed their cheek and took one of their hands, placing it gently over her stomach. Almost immediately, their baby kicked, changing Y/N’s entire expression. The suspicious older sibling was gone. Now there was only a delighted future parent.

Wanda smiled triumphantly.

“Good timing.”

Y/N rubbed her stomach gently. The baby kicked again.

“See?” Wanda said innocently. “Your child is hungry.”

Y/N immediately looked toward the buffet tables, then back at Wanda, then at the buffet again.

A terrible realization dawned.

Wanda’s smile widened. “Go get us food.”

“You planned this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You distracted me.”

“Our child distracted you.”

Y/N pointed accusingly.

Wanda kissed their finger making them blush, and their eyes darken.

And just like that, they lost the argument completely.

A few moments later, Y/N could be seen heading toward the food tables while Wanda watched with a victorious smile.

Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Lina and Eren were trying very hard to dance like adults.

---

By the time the dancing slowed and the enormous birthday cake had been thoroughly attacked by a room full of children, it was finally time for gifts.

Lina immediately climbed into the oversized chair prepared for her near the front of the ballroom, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

The first gift was from Y/N. When Lina opened the long wooden box and found a training sword made specifically for her, her name engraved along the blade. Y/N wanted to teach her how to defend herself. 

Lina immediately launched herself at them. The entire ballroom laughed as Y/N caught her easily.

“Thank you!”

“You are welcome, little dove.”

Next came Wanda's gift: a beautiful leather-bound journal decorated with silver stars and flowers.

“It’s a diary. So you can take note of all the adventures you will have,” Wanda explained.

Lina immediately hugged both the journal and Wanda.

After that came Ser Rogers. Steve's gift was a child's knight set complete with a painted wooden shield, training gauntlets, and a small sash. Lina immediately declared herself “officially dangerous now,” while Steve looked like he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this moment.

Ser Barnes was next. His gift was a children's archery set complete with padded arrows and a target. Lina looked at it as though he'd handed her buried treasure. Y/N immediately started imagining broken windows.

Then came Natasha. Her gift was a beautiful red cloak trimmed with silver embroidery and lined with soft fur for winter. Lina wrapped herself in it immediately and refused to remove it for the rest of the evening. Natasha looked deeply satisfied with herself.

Several more gifts followed. One noble family presented Lina with a delicate silver bracelet decorated with tiny stars, while another gifted her a collection of beautifully illustrated fairy tale books. Lina was delighted by both.

Then one of the village children approached—a little girl around Lina's age carrying a small package wrapped in plain cloth. Inside was a handmade rag doll wearing a tiny blue dress. The stitching was uneven, and one button eye sat slightly higher than the other, but it was obvious it had been made with care.

The little girl immediately started apologizing.

“It’s not very pretty—”

“It’s beautiful.” Lina hugged the doll instantly.

The little girl beamed.

Wanda's eyes suspiciously filled with tears.

Finally, Eren approached.

The poor boy looked more nervous than Y/N had ever seen him, which was saying something. Lina immediately sat up straighter when she saw him coming.

Y/N noticed and narrowed their eyes.

Wanda noticed Y/N noticing and immediately grabbed their arm.

“No.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are absolutely doing something.”

“I am observing.”

Wanda rolled her eyes.

Eren handed over a carefully wrapped package. Lina opened it slowly. Inside was a small wooden music box. Handmade.

When she turned the little handle, a soft melody drifted through the ballroom. The lid opened to reveal a tiny dancing princess carved from wood.

The room grew noticeably quieter.

Eren’s face turned bright red. “My…dad taught me how to make it when he was still alive… Ser Rogers helped me make it.”

Lina stared at the spinning figure for a long moment.

Then she smiled. Not the excited grin she'd given the sword. Not the delighted laugh she'd given the cloak.

A different smile. Softer.

“It’s beautiful.”

Eren looked like someone had just handed him a kingdom.

Wanda immediately hid her smile behind her hand.

Y/N narrowed their eyes further. But this time, they didn't say anything. Because despite every protective instinct screaming otherwise, Lina looked happy. Really happy.

And tonight was about her.

So Y/N simply crossed their arms and let it go. For now.

The rest of the evening passed wonderfully. There was more dancing, more cake, and more children running through the ballroom despite several servants' increasingly desperate attempts to stop them. Lina spent the night bouncing from one activity to another, laughing so much her cheeks turned pink.

And every time Y/N looked over, their little sister was smiling.

Not the careful smile she'd worn for years under Alaric. Not the quiet one she used when she thought nobody was watching.

A real smile. Bright and carefree.

The kind she should have been allowed to have all along. Seeing it made something warm settle inside Y/N’s chest. Because for the first time, Lina was having the birthday she deserved.

Eventually the music faded. Guests departed. Families returned home carrying sleepy children, and the ballroom slowly emptied until only a handful of servants remained cleaning up.

It was already very late.

Lina looked tired now. But happy.

Y/N glanced toward Wanda. Immediately, Wanda understood. Her hand found theirs beneath the table and squeezed gently.

The final gift.

The one they had spoken about days ago. The one Y/N had spent longer thinking about than all the others combined.

Wanda's eyes softened.

Then she leaned up and kissed their cheek. A quiet gesture. Full of understanding.

“You should go,” she whispered.

Y/N smiled.

Ser Romanoff stepped forward to escort the queen back to their chambers. Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand one final time before leaving, and just before she disappeared through the ballroom doors, she glanced back over her shoulder.

Smiling. Encouraging.

Go.

Once Wanda was gone, Y/N approached Lina. The little girl was sitting in a chair, holding her new music box while trying—and failing—not to yawn.

“Had fun?”

Lina immediately nodded. “The best birthday ever.”

Y/N’s smile softened. “The best?”

“The best.”

Y/N kiss her head before offered their hand. “Come on.”

Lina took it immediately. “Where are we going?”

Y/N only smiled. “One more gift.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “Another one?”

“One last one.”

Lina looked delighted. Then curious. Then suspicious.

“Is it a pony?”

“No.”

“A dragon?”

“No.”

“A dragon pony?”

Y/N laughed. “No. Dragons don’t exist!”

Lina sighed dramatically. “Okay.”

They walked through the quiet palace corridors together, the sounds of the celebration slowly fading behind them. The castle felt different now—still, peaceful. Most of the candles had burned low, and the servants they passed smiled warmly at Lina and wished her a happy birthday.

Eventually they reached a part of the palace Lina rarely visited.

And finally, they stopped before a familiar door.

Lina frowned. “What room is this?”

Y/N looked at the door for a moment before turning back to her. “Mama’s.”

Lina blinked. Immediately confused.

“…Mama’s?”

Y/N nodded. A small silence settled between them. Lina looked back at the door slowly, as though she wasn’t entirely sure she had heard correctly.

“I thought…”

She hesitated. “I thought there wasn’t anything left.”

Y/N understood. “I thought so too.”

Then they pushed the door open.

The room beyond glowed softly in candlelight. Warm and gentle.

Lina stepped inside slowly. Completely silent. Her eyes moved everywhere at once.

Taking everything in. The books. The furniture. The little decorative pieces. The embroidery frame resting beside a chair. The portrait above the fireplace.

And then she stopped.

Because there—resting on a table near the fireplace, was a portrait of Queen Eleonora heavily pregnant, one hand resting on her stomach.

And beside her stood Y/N. Already tall for their age. Already carrying the posture Alaric had beaten into them. Serious. Guarded. Trying very hard to look older than they were.

And yet standing close enough that their shoulder touched Eleonora's arm. One of her hands rested gently in their hair.

The painter had captured something Y/N hadn't noticed until years later—the tiny smile on their mother's face and the way she was looking at them.

Like they were the most precious thing in the world.

Lina stopped.

The room became very quiet.

She stepped closer.

Then closer.

Until she stood directly in front of the painting.

Y/N remained a few steps behind, watching and waiting.

Lina stared at the portrait for a long time. At Eleonora. At the baby bump. At thirteen-year-old Y/N.

Then, softly— “…that’s me.”

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah.”

Lina reached toward the painting but stopped just before touching it, as if afraid it might disappear.

“Mama looked happy.”

The words hit harder than Y/N expected. Because she had. Even then. Even carrying the exhaustion of years. Even knowing what waited for her.

Eleonora had still smiled whenever she looked at her children.

Y/N stepped closer and carefully reached into their coat.

Lina looked up, confused.

Y/N pulled out an envelope.

Old. Protected.

For a moment they simply stared at it. Then held it out.

Lina blinked. “What’s that?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “A letter.”

Lina took it carefully. “From who?”

Y/N looked toward the portrait. “…From Mama.”

The room went still.

Lina’s eyes widened. “She wrote me a letter?”

Y/N nodded.

“Before you were born.”

Lina stared at the envelope as though it might vanish if she blinked.

Then she slowly opened it. Her small hands trembled.

And she began to read.

---

My precious little one, If you are reading this, then it means I was never given the chance to hold you for as long as I wished I could. There are already so many things I wanted to tell you. How I spoke to you when no one else was around. How your brother would rest their head against my stomach and talk to you as though you could already answer back. How every time you moved, Y/N would look at me with the same frightened wonder they used to have as a child whenever they discovered something beautiful. You are already loved more than you will ever fully understand. Especially by him. Your brother carries a heart far too gentle for this kingdom, though I pray the world never succeeds in hardening it completely. There will be people who misunderstand Y/N. Some will fear what they do not understand. Others will try to convince him that he is too soft, too emotional, too different. Do not believe those people. I have lived among cruel men for many years, and I can promise you this with certainty: There is nothing stronger than a person who remains kind after surviving pain. And there is no one in this world I would trust more to protect you than Y/N. He has protected me since he was small enough to fit entirely in my lap. Even when frightened. Even when hurting. Even when no one protected him in return. So if one day you are scared, or lonely, or uncertain of where you belong—go to him. Y/N will hold your hand through every storm this world places before you. That is simply who he is. Please be patient with him too. He carries wounds much older than he should. Some visible. Some hidden deep enough that even he may not fully understand them yet. But beneath all of it, your brother’s heart is beautiful. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. I hope you grow surrounded by the kind of love I once dreamed this palace might hold. I hope you laugh loudly. I hope you run through gardens without fear. I hope you are allowed to become exactly who you are without shame. And I hope that when you look at Y/N, you do not only see a future king. I hope you see what I see. A person who fought very hard to remain gentle in a world that rewarded cruelty. Take care of each other. Love each other fiercely. That is how people survive places like this. And if there is anything beyond this life, know that I will spend eternity loving both of you. Forever yours, Mama

---

The first tear landed on the page before Lina reached the end.

Then another. And another.

By the time she whispered the final words—her vision was completely blurred.

The letter lowered slowly. Her lips trembled.

Y/N could already see it coming.

The grief. The longing. The realization that this was the closest she would ever come to hearing her mother's voice.

Y/N didn't hesitate. They gathered Lina into their arms. Holding her close.

Safe.

Lina buried her face in their neck and sobbed. Not quietly.

Y/N felt tears gathering in their own eyes again.

Gods. Their mother was still finding ways to make them cry.

The letter crumpled slightly in Lina's hand as she clung to them.

Then, through her tears, she whispered:

“Why did Mama leave us?”

The question shattered Y/N. Because Lina wasn't asking about childbirth. Or death.

She was asking the question every child asks.

Why didn't she stay?

Y/N closed their eyes and held her tighter. “Mama didn't leave us.”

Lina cried harder.

Y/N pressed their cheek against her hair. “She wanted to stay.” Their own voice cracked. “More than anything.”

A sob escaped Lina.

Y/N looked toward the portrait. Toward their mother.

Still smiling from across the room. Still watching over them somehow.

“Mama loved you before she even met you.”

Lina's shoulders trembled.

“Really?”

The word came out broken. Y/N smiled through tears. “Really.”

They pulled back just enough to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“She talked about you all the time.”

Lina looked up at them. Red-eyed. Heartbroken.

Y/N kissed her forehead, just like Eleonora used to kiss theirs, then pulled her close again.

Lina didn't let go. If anything, she held tighter. Her small arms wrapped around Y/N's neck while she continued crying into their shoulder, the letter still clutched tightly in one hand.

Y/N just held her.

One hand rubbed slow circles across her back while the other rested protectively against her hair. The room remained quiet except for the crackling fireplace and Lina's soft sobs.

After a moment, Y/N shifted carefully and slipped one arm beneath Lina's knees, lifting her into their arms. Lina immediately buried her face deeper into their neck, not protesting, not wanting to be anywhere else.

Y/N carried her across the room toward one of the armchairs near the fireplace.

The same chair Eleonora used to sit in while reading. The chair where Y/N had spent countless evenings curled against her side.

They lowered themself into it slowly, settling Lina onto their lap before wrapping both arms around her and holding her close against their chest. Like their mother used to do when their were at that age.

Lina continued crying quietly. Y/N rested their cheek on top of her head and waited.

Eventually the sobs softened. Then slowed. 

Then became little more than sniffles. But Lina still didn't move from their lap.

Several minutes passed before her small voice finally broke the silence.

“...Y/N?”

“Hm?”

And Y/N wasn’t prepared for what came next.

“What if Wanda leaves too?”

The words hit like a blade. Y/N went completely still for a second.

But inside, fear exploded.

The same fear that had lived quietly in the back of their mind ever since learning Wanda was pregnant. The same fear that woke them some nights. The same fear they never spoke aloud.

What if history repeated itself?

What if—No.

Y/N buried the thought immediately.

For Lina.

For Wanda.

And for the baby.

They swallowed carefully and pressed a kiss into Lina's hair.

“Wanda will be fine.”

Lina remained curled against them. “Really?”

Y/N wanted to promise. Wanted to say yes. But they couldn't.

Not after everything life had taught them.

So instead they chose honesty. “The healers say she's healthy.”

Lina listened carefully.

“And she's much healthier than Mama was during her pregnancy.”

That part was true. Painfully true.

Eleonora had been growing weaker long before Lina was born.

Wanda wasn't. Wanda was strong. Healthy. Stubborn enough to terrify ministers and healers alike.

Y/N smiled faintly.

“The baby is healthy too.”

Lina thought about that for a moment before looking up, eyes still wet.

“You promise?”

The question hurt. Because Y/N knew what she was really asking. Not for certainty. For comfort. For someone to tell her everything would be okay.

Y/N brushed a tear from her cheek.

“I can't promise.”

Lina's face fell slightly.

“But I can tell you Wanda is doing very well.”

Y/N smiled softly.

“And if anyone can bully death into leaving her alone, it's probably Wanda.”

A tiny laugh escaped Lina. Small but real.

Y/N smiled too.

The little girl leaned back against their chest.

Comforted. Not entirely but enough for now.

Several quiet moments passed before Y/N glanced around the room. At the bookshelves. The paintings. The flowers. The memories. Everything Eleonora had left behind.

Then they looked down at Lina.

“You know...”

Lina tilted her head.

Y/N smiled softly. “This room is yours now.”

She blinked. “...Mine?”

“If you want it.”

Lina looked around slowly, carefully taking everything in.

The portrait.

The books.

The fireplace.

The pieces of their mother that still remained here.

Her eyes widened.

“Really?”

Y/N nodded. “You can move all yours things here.”

Lina stared. Speechless. For once.

Then her gaze drifted back to Eleonora's portrait, and suddenly tears filled her eyes again.

“So I can stay with Mama?”

Y/N's eyes burned immediately. They tightened their arms around her. Holding her securely against their chest.

“Yeah.”Their voice cracked slightly. “You're staying with Mama.”

Lina smiled through fresh tears and curled closer into them.

For a long while, neither moved.

Just two siblings sitting together in their mother's chair beneath her portrait, wrapped in the love she had left behind for both of them.

---

A Month Later

Wanda’s POV

A month passed surprisingly quickly.

After her birthday, Lina had officially moved into Queen Eleonora's chambers. At first, Wanda worried it might be too emotional for her, but instead Lina thrived. She adored the room, the books, the paintings, and every little keepsake Eleonora had left behind. More than once, Wanda found her sitting beneath one of her mother's portraits, happily chatting away as though Eleonora could hear every word.

And perhaps she could.

Y/N certainly seemed to think so.

Some portraits remained in Eleonora's chambers. Others Y/N had quietly brought back to their own chamber. One sat beside the fireplace, another near Wanda's reading chair, and a smaller one rested on Y/N's desk. Whenever they thought nobody was watching, Wanda sometimes caught them looking at those portraits.

Not sadly. Just...Missing her.

The pregnancy was progressing beautifully. The healers couldn't have been happier. The baby was healthy, growing exactly as expected and already kicking with alarming enthusiasm. Wanda felt well too—tired sometimes, hungry constantly, but otherwise perfectly healthy.

The only person struggling was arguably Y/N.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Because the closer they got to the birth, the more protective they became.

And honestly?

It was becoming ridiculous.

Like right now.

Wanda was enjoying the afternoon sun in the palace gardens, a book in hand as she wandered slowly along a stone path.

Peaceful. Quiet. Until—

“Wanda.”

She sighed. There they were. Y/N approached from across the garden looking deeply concerned.

Again.

“What?”

“You were walking.”

Wanda blinked.

“…yes.”

“Without anyone.”

“I am in the palace garden.”

Y/N still looked unconvinced.

Wanda stared at them. And the baby kicked as if enjoying the argument.

“You could have slipped.”

“On what?”

Y/N glanced at the ground. “…a leaf.”

Wanda laughed.

“A leaf.”

“It happens.”

“It does not.”

“It could.”

Gods. A month ago Y/N would have worried. Now they were just hovering.

The baby kicked again. Y/N immediately abandoned the argument and placed a hand against her stomach.

Traitor.

Wanda watched their expression soften instantly.

Every single time. Like magic.

“Did you miss Papa?” Y/N say softly.

Another kick.

Y/N smiled.

And Wanda's chest tightened. Because moments like this made the fear easier to see.

Not in what Y/N said. But in what they didn't.

---

That night, after supper, Wanda lay comfortably against the headboard while Y/N sat beside her reading. Or pretending to.

They had been staring at the same page for nearly ten minutes.

Wanda watched them quietly. Candlelight danced across their face, catching the faint scar on their cheek and the tension hidden behind their eyes.

Gods. She knew them too well now.

Y/N hadn't spoken about their fears. Not directly. But Wanda saw them anyway.

In the way they checked on her three times every night. In the way they asked the healers the same questions repeatedly. In the way their hand always found her stomach whenever they sat together, as though reassuring themselves that both mother and baby were still there.

Still safe. Still breathing.

Wanda set her book aside and slid closer.

Y/N immediately wrapped an arm around her without even looking away from the book they were pretending to read.

“My love.”

Their eyes lifted.

“Hm?”

Wanda reached up and brushed a hand through their hair. The book was forgotten instantly.

She smiled softly. And there it was.

The fear.

Hidden deep. But present.

Y/N swallowed once.

Wanda's heart ached. Because she knew exactly where it came from.

They saw their mother become weak during pregnancy. And with their baby due in only a few weeks.

Of course they were afraid.

Of course they were.

She leaned forward and kissed them gently, then rested her forehead against theirs.

“I’m okay.”

Y/N smiled immediately. “I know.”

Wanda knew that smile. Knew it well enough to recognize when it was hiding something.

Instead of arguing, she set her book aside and opened her arms.

Y/N looked at her for a moment, then immediately moved. Like they'd been waiting for permission. Wanda pulled their head against her chest, one hand settling in their hair while the other rubbed slow circles across their back. The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire.

Y/N's arm wrapped around her waist. Holding on.

Wanda kept stroking their hair, knowing she couldn't make them stop worrying. Not completely.

Eventually Y/N sighed. A long, tired sound.

“I know you're healthy. The healers are happy. They say everything is going perfectly.”

Their fingers tightened slightly against her side.

“And I know this is different.”

Wanda's chest tightened. Because it was. Eleonora hadn't been healthy.

Wanda was. The baby was too.

Y/N knew that. Logically. But fear wasn't logical.

“I know Mama's pregnancy wasn't like yours,” they said quietly. “I know the healers were already worried about her. I know all of that.”

A pause.

“But I still get scared.”

There it was. The truth.

Y/N pressed their forehead lightly against her shoulder.

“I don't want to lose you.”

Wanda's eyes stung immediately.

Gods. She loved them. So much.

Her fingers slipped through their hair again.

“You won't.”

Y/N laughed softly. “You don't know that.”

“No.”

Wanda wouldn't lie to them. “I don't.”

Y/N closed their eyes.

“But I know this.” She cupped their cheek gently. “You are not that frightened child anymore.”

Their eyes lifted to hers.

“And I am not alone.”

Y/N's expression softened.

“We have healers checking on me every week,” Wanda said, kissing their forehead. “We have an entire palace ready to panic if I sneeze.”

Another kiss. “And we have you.”

That finally earned a small smile. The fear didn't disappear.

But it loosened. Enough for now.

After a moment, they spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

They looked away briefly. “If the baby ends up like me...”

Wanda understood immediately.

“If they're born with one body and heart different from what people expect...” Their throat tightened. “...would you care?”

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Y/N blinked.

Wanda cupped their face. “No,” she repeated softly. “I wouldn't care at all.”

Something eased inside them.

Just a little.

Wanda smiled. “As long as our baby is healthy.” Her hand rested over her stomach. “And loved.”

Y/N visibly relaxed.

Then Wanda added, “Though I do hope they look like you.”

Y/N's head snapped up. “What?”

“I do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Y/N looked horrified. “My love, have you seen yourself?”

“Have you?”

Y/N pointed at her.

“You have auburn hair. Beautiful green eyes.”

“You're biased.” Wanda chuckle.

“I married you. That's my job! But I’m telling the truth!”

Wanda laughed. Then rested a hand over her stomach.

“I want them to have your heart.”

The teasing faded.

“Your kindness. Your gentleness. The way you love people.”

Y/N immediately looked away. Embarrassed.

Wanda smiled and turned their face back toward hers. “I mean it.”

After a moment, Y/N recovered.

“I want them to have your hair.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“My hair is impossible.”

“Exactly.”

Wanda laughed.

“I want your eyes too.”

“They're just eyes.” Y/N make a face.

“They're your eyes.”

The baby suddenly kicked. Both of them looked down. Then another kick followed.

Y/N's entire face softened. They placed a hand over her stomach and leaned down to press a kiss there. “I don't really care who they look like. As long as they are healthy.”

Wanda's heart melted. Of course. That was what mattered most to them.

She cupped their cheek. “I know.”

Y/N leaned into her touch, and when Wanda kissed them, thoughts of hair color and eye color faded away. Only love remained. And the certainty that their child would be adored beyond reason.

---

Without either of them realizing it, time continued moving.

Days became weeks, and weeks became a month.

And slowly, piece by piece, they prepared for their baby.

The palace began changing around them. A basket appeared beside their bed. Tiny clothes found their way into drawers. Blankets, books, and wooden toys accumulated faster than seemed possible.

Then came the crib.

Most royal and noble children slept in nurseries from the beginning, surrounded by nurses and attendants far from their parents.

Neither Wanda nor Y/N cared.

The crib stood beside their bed, close enough for Wanda to reach without standing and close enough for Y/N to undoubtedly check if the baby was breathing every five minutes.

Wanda fully expected them to do exactly that.

The crib itself had quietly become Y/N's latest project. Despite insisting they were only making "minor adjustments," Wanda eventually discovered those adjustments involved hand-carving delicate details into the wood.

When Wanda asked, Y/N claimed it was important. Wanda suspected they simply wanted something to fuss over. Either way, it was beautiful.

And every time she looked at it, her chest tightened.

Soon it wouldn't be empty. Soon there would be a baby sleeping there.

Their baby.

They even prepared a nursery despite having no intention of using it immediately. It occupied Y/N's old chambers, though almost nothing remained unchanged. The dark furniture had been replaced, the walls brightened, and the rooms filled with bookshelves, soft rugs, comfortable chairs, and a little bed waiting for when the child grew older.

It no longer looked like a prince's chambers. It looked like a child's room.

The kind of room Y/N should have had growing up.

Wanda noticed that but she never mentioned it. Neither did Y/N.

And as the weeks passed, Wanda noticed something else.

Y/N still worried. Just... less obviously.

They stopped questioning the healers every other day. Stopped hovering every time she stood up. Stopped looking ready to summon half the palace whenever she sneezed.

Mostly.

Instead, whenever the worry became too much, they came looking for her. No explanations.

They would simply appear. Then pull her into their arms and hold her.

Like now.

Wanda was reviewing reports in her study when Y/N quietly walked in. One look was enough.

The reports were set aside.

Without a word, Y/N crossed the room and wrapped their arms around her, resting their forehead against the side of her head.

“Missed us?” Wanda murmured.

Y/N only hummed. Holding her tighter. And Wanda melted. Because she knew what they were doing. Checking. Reassuring themself. Making sure both of them were still there. Still safe.

So she leaned back against them and let them hold her for as long as they needed.

Eventually the tension left their shoulders. Only then did Y/N kiss her temple and return to whatever royal disaster awaited them.

It happened often.

Sometimes in the morning, at night, after difficult meetings, after passing one of Eleonora's portraits.

Y/N never explained. And Wanda never asked. She just held them back. Whenever they buried their face against her shoulder, she ran her fingers through their hair. Whenever they kissed her stomach, she kissed their forehead. Trying, in every small way she could, to tell them:

I'm here. We're okay.

---

Ser Romanoff also had opinions. “You're going to need wet nurses.”

Wanda looked up from her book.

Natasha stood beside the sofa while Y/N pretended not to listen.

“You realize queens have used wet nurses for centuries?”

“I know.”

“You'll be exhausted.”

“I know.”

“You'll barely sleep.”

“I know.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes.

Wanda smiled. “I still don't want one.”

At least not yet. The thought of feeding her child herself, holding them close, being the first comfort they knew in the world—she wanted that.

Perhaps later she would accept help.

Perhaps not.

She would decide when the time came.

Natasha sighed dramatically. “As expected.”

So life continued.

The crib waited beside their bed. The nursery waited down the hall. Tiny clothes filled drawers. Lina prepared aggressively for her role as aunt. And with every passing day, the baby grew closer.

Until even the palace seemed to be holding its breath. Waiting for the moment their family would become one person larger.

---

Y/N's POV

“This is ridiculous.”

Ser Barnes didn't even look up from his horse. They rode side by side toward a nearby village, a small escort following behind. Y/N was in a terrible mood. And Ser Barnes knew it.

“This could have been handled by literally anyone else.”

“It couldn't.”

“It absolutely could.”

“It couldn't.”

Y/N glared. Ser Barnes remained unimpressed.

“Wanda could give birth any day now.”

“We know.”

“No, I don't think you do.”

Ser Barnes finally looked over.

Y/N looked genuinely distressed. Not angry. Distressed.

Which was worse.

“She’s due soon.”

“We know.”

“The baby could decide today is the day.”

“We know.”

“I should be with her.”

“And you will be.”

“What if she needs me?”

“Then someone will come get you.”

“What if it happens before they arrive?”

“We're less than an hour from the capital.”

“What if—”

“Y/N.”

The king stopped talking. Briefly.

Ser Barnes sighed. “The queen is healthy. The baby is healthy. There are healers, midwives, guards, servants, and half the palace watching her.”

Y/N frowned. “That doesn't make me feel better.”

“I know.” Ser Barnes sigh, “The village requested direct intervention from the crown.”

Y/N folded their arms. Still grumpy and unconvinced.

Ser Barnes had known them long enough to recognize the difference between annoyance and genuine distress. This was the latter.

Y/N stared ahead for a long moment before sighing. “If Wanda gives birth while I'm out here...”

Ser Barnes already knew where this was going.

“...I'm going to kick your ass.”

The threat was delivered with complete seriousness.

Ser Barnes burst out laughing.

Y/N looked even more offended. “I'm serious.”

“I know.”

“I'm not joking.”

“I know.”

Y/N pointed at him from horseback.

“If I miss the birth of my child because of three merchants arguing over something stupid, I will personally make your life miserable.”

Ser Barnes grinned. “Fair.”

“I'm glad you understand.”

“I do.”

Ser Barnes nodded solemnly. “If Her Majesty goes into labor while we're here, you have my full permission to kick my ass.”

“Good.”

A few moments later, Ser Barnes glanced sideways at them.

“You know she's going to be fine.”

Y/N's expression softened immediately. Just for a second.

“I know.” And they did.

The healers weren't worried. Wanda wasn't worried. Even Lina wasn't worried anymore.

Only Y/N.

Y/N was worried enough for everyone.

Ser Barnes let the silence sit for a moment. Then quietly said, “She's strong."

Y/N looked down at the reins in their hands. A faint smile appearing despite everything. "Yeah."

"Stronger than you, honestly."

That actually made Y/N laugh. A genuine laugh. Because it was true.

"She is." The fondness in their voice was immediate.

Ser Barnes smirked making Y/N rolled their eyes. But the smile remained.

"She is stronger than me."

They looked ahead toward the village in the distance. Then nudged Philip forward.

"Now let's hurry so I can get back faster."

Before Ser Barnes could answer, Philip surged ahead eagerly. Ser Barnes sighed before urging his own horse to follow.

---

Fortunately, Ser Barnes had been right.

The dispute really had needed the crown.

Three merchant families had spent weeks arguing over trade routes, taxes, and ownership claims. The moment Y/N arrived, they listened to everyone, asked a few questions, forced the families to actually hear one another, and had the matter settled before the afternoon ended.

Even Y/N had to admit the village probably wouldn't have accepted anyone else's decision.

They still complained anyway.

On the ride home, Y/N rode beside Ser Barnes with their arms folded.

“This could have waited.”

“It could not.”

“It absolutely could have.”

“It could not.”

“It was solved in less than two hours.”

“Because you were there.”

Y/N groaned.

Ser Barnes looked deeply amused.

“I hate when you're right.”

“I know.”

The conversation died there when Y/N's eyes narrowed as they see far ahead on the road, a rider was approaching.

Fast. Too fast.

The horse was lathered with sweat. The knight wasn't slowing down. Something cold dropped into Y/N's stomach. Ser Barnes saw it too. Immediately, both of them straightened.

The knight closed the distance rapidly. Y/N's heart began pounding.

No.

No, no, no.

The rider finally reached them and hauled his horse to a stop.

“Your Majesty—”

“What happened?” The words came out instantly. Sharp and panicked.

The knight blinked. “Her Majesty—”

Y/N's blood ran cold.

“What happened?”

The knight sat up straighter.

“Her Majesty is in labor.”

For one terrible second, the world stopped.

Then everything happened at once. Y/N wheeled Philip around so fast the stallion barely had time to react.

“Y/N—”

Ser Barnes didn't even get to finish.

“Go Philip!” The single word cracked like thunder. Philip surged forward. Y/N dug in their heels. The stallion exploded into motion. The road vanished beneath them. Wind tore at their clothes. Branches blurred past.

All Y/N could hear was the thunder of hooves and the frantic pounding of their own heart.

Wanda. Wait for me my love. Please.

Just let me get there.

Philip ran faster. And Y/N didn't look back.

---

If nothing went wrong.

Which, considering her life, probably meant something would.

Yelena rested one hand lazily on the steering wheel while the radio played quietly in the background. Beside her, Wanda sat unusually peacefully, one elbow resting against the window.

For the fifth time in the last ten minutes...She looked into the backseat.

Y/N was asleep. One arm was tucked behind her head while the other rested across her stomach. Her head leaned against the window, hair falling over her forehead, completely unaware that someone had been staring at her for the past hour.

Wanda smiled. Again.

Yelena watched the reflection in the windshield. There it was. That stupid smile. Then Wanda quietly looked back out the window.

Thirty seconds later...She looked back again. Still asleep. Another tiny smile.

Yelena made a face. She'd enjoyed teasing them before. Back when they were both hopeless idiots dancing around each other.

Now?

Now they were just...Sweet. Unbearably sweet. Every time Y/N reached for something, Wanda handed it to her before she asked. Every time Wanda shifted in her seat, Y/N instinctively adjusted the air conditioning without looking away from the road. Every time one of them laughed...The other looked like they'd personally invented happiness.

It was annoying. Cute, sure. But annoying. Yelena physically shuddered.

"I miss when you were both emotionally constipated."

Wanda looked over. "...What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't even know what that means."

"It means this." Yelena gestured dramatically between Wanda and the sleeping wolf in the back. "All this..." She waved both hands. "The smiling."

Wanda blinked innocently. "What smiling?"

"The smiling you keep doing."

"I haven't smiled."

"You smiled three seconds ago."

"I did not."

"You looked at sleeping beauty back there and smiled like you were in romance movie."

Wanda's ears turned pink. "I wasn't—"

"You were."

"I just looked."

"Mhm."

"I did."

"You looked lovingly."

"I did not look lovingly!"

Yelena sighed dramatically. "This is exhausting."

Wanda crossed her arms, trying very hard not to smile again. It lasted exactly twenty seconds. Then she glanced back once more. Y/N had shifted slightly in her sleep, brows furrowing before relaxing again. Wanda's entire expression softened.

Yelena let out the loudest groan she'd made all week. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"You did it again."

"I didn't even—"

"You looked at her like she is baby deer."

"I was making sure she was comfortable."

"You are proving my point."

Wanda huffed. "I can't win with you."

"No."

Yelena looked ahead. Then suddenly spotted a weathered sign beside the highway.

DINER — NEXT EXIT

Perfect. She flicked on the turn signal. "We're stopping."

Wanda looked over. "Why?"

"Because if I spend another hour watching you two make heart eyes at each other, I will intentionally crash this car."

"I don't—"

"No."

Yelena pulled into the gravel parking lot before Wanda could finish defending herself.

The diner looked like it had been standing there since the seventies. A faded red sign hung crookedly above the entrance, and three pickup trucks were parked outside.

Yelena killed the engine. "Let's go eat."

The sudden silence woke Y/N immediately. Golden eyes snapped open. She looked around once. Twice. Then focused on the front seats. "...Did something happen?"

"No," Yelena answered while already climbing out. "I'm hungry." She slammed the door behind her and marched toward the entrance.

Y/N watched her disappear through the glass doors. "...Is she upset?"

Wanda climbed out of the passenger seat just as Y/N stepped onto the gravel beside her. "I don't know."

Y/N frowned slightly toward the diner. "She sounded grumpy."

"I noticed."

Y/N closed the car door before looking toward Wanda. "...Did I do something?"

"I don't think so."

Before Wanda could say anything else, she found herself gently pulled forward.

Y/N wrapped one arm around her waist, the other sliding carefully around her shoulders.

"Wha—"

A low, content rumble vibrated through Y/N's chest. The familiar purr.

Wanda laughed softly. "Someone's in a cuddly mood."

Instead of answering, Y/N leaned down and rubbed her nose gently against Wanda's cheek. A slow, affectionate nuzzle. The motion was so natural that it almost made Wanda forget they were standing in the middle of a parking lot.

She smiled helplessly.

"There you are..."

Y/N hummed happily, pulling her a little closer. "You smell nice."

"Thanks."

Another soft nuzzle. Wanda's cheeks warmed immediately. "You've become very affectionate."

Y/N blinked. "...Is that bad?"

"No." Wanda reached up, smoothing a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "It's very nice."

Y/N smiled. A real one. Not shy anymore. Not uncertain. Just... happy. She dipped her head again, brushing another tiny nuzzle against Wanda's temple before kissing the side of her forehead.

Wanda melted.

"I think," she murmured against Y/N's shoulder, "Yelena might actually kill us."

"...Why?"

"I think we've become annoying."

Y/N looked genuinely confused. "We haven't done anything."

Wanda laughed. "I know."

"You said affection is normal."

"It is."

"Then why would she be upset?"

"Because..." Wanda smiled. "She's Yelena."

"...Oh."

That apparently explained everything.

Inside the diner, Yelena happened to glance through the front window while waiting for the waitress. She froze. Outside...The giant wolf woman was nuzzling Wanda's face.

Again. And Wanda was smiling like an idiot again.

Yelena slowly closed her eyes. Then opened them. They were still doing it. She looked toward the ceiling. "Natasha," she muttered under her breath. "You owe me."

The elderly waitress approached with a warm smile. "Table for one?"

Yelena sighed. "...Unfortunately, three."

As if summoned by fate itself, the front door opened. Y/N held it open for Wanda. Of course she did. Wanda thanked her with another smile.

Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be the longest two days of her life. She followed the waitress to a booth near the window before sliding into one side with a quiet sigh. Reaching for the menu, she looked up as the waitress smiled.

“Coffee?”

“Please, three.”

The waitress nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen.

A moment later, Wanda and Y/N joined her. Y/N instinctively waited for Wanda to slide into the booth before taking the seat beside her. Yelena watched the entire thing happen and simply rolled her eyes.

Of course.

The waitress returned with three mugs of coffee, setting them down before leaving them to decide on breakfast. Silence settled over the table as everyone looked over their menus. After a minute, Y/N leaned a little closer to Wanda, angling her menu just enough for Wanda to see.

“They have blueberry pancakes.”

Wanda glanced to where Y/N was pointing, a small smile spreading across her face. “I see them.”

Y/N nodded once, looking quietly pleased she'd found them.

Across the table, Yelena looked between the two of them before shaking her head with an amused smile. “And there goes the lovesick smiles again.” Yelena comments.

Wanda groaned softly. “Just leave us alone Yelena!”

“I wish!” Yelena replied with a small shrug.

The waitress returned a few minutes later with a notepad tucked beneath her arm. “Ready to order?”

Wanda nodded. “I'll have the blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon.”

“I'll take the country breakfast,” Y/N said. “And... another side of pancakes.”

The waitress smiled as she scribbled everything down before looking at Yelena.

“The western omelet. Hash browns instead of fries.”

“I'll have that right out.”

She disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving the three of them with the smell of fresh coffee drifting through the diner.

Wanda wrapped both hands around her mug before looking at Yelena. “So... how much longer?”

Yelena thought for a moment before answering. “If the roads stay clear...” She took a sip of coffee. “Two more days.”

Wanda nodded. “And then?”

“We find the safehouse.”

“And hope Natasha is there.”

Yelena's expression softened slightly. “Yeah.”

“If she's not?”

“We figure out the next step.”

Y/N quietly listened while stirring cream into her coffee. “You think Hydra knows where we're going?”

Yelena shook her head. “No. But I still don't like staying anywhere too long.”

“We'll keep moving if we have to.”

Y/N nodded once. “I'll keep watch tonight.”

“You've kept watch every night,” Wanda reminded her.

“I know.”

“You need sleep too.”

“I sleep.”

“Wolf naps don't count.”

“They do.”

Yelena smirked into her coffee. “I am staying out of this one.”

A comfortable silence settled over the booth until the waitress returned, balancing three large plates on her arms. “Blueberry pancakes.” She placed Wanda's breakfast in front of her. “Western omelet.”

Yelena thanked her before reaching for the hot sauce.

“And the country breakfast.” The enormous plate landed in front of Y/N, piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, toast, and pancakes.

“I'll be right back with the extra pancakes.”

Y/N nodded politely. “Thank you.”

A minute later, the waitress returned with another plate stacked with fluffy pancakes. “There you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.”

Yelena looked from the second plate to Y/N. “...You know, I always forget how much you eat.”

Y/N glanced down at the table. “…This isn't that much.”

Wanda laughed softly. “It really is.”

“It is?”

“Mhm.”

Y/N looked genuinely unconvinced before picking up her fork.

Breakfast began quietly. The only sounds were forks against plates, coffee cups settling back onto saucers, and the low murmur of conversations from the other customers.

Halfway through her pancakes, Wanda noticed Y/N had already finished nearly all of her eggs and bacon. She cut off a small piece of pancake, dipped it into the blueberries and syrup, then held the fork toward Y/N without thinking.

“Here.”

Y/N looked over before immediately leaning in to take the bite.

“Mm.”

Wanda smiled. “Good?”

Y/N swallowed. “Very.”

A few minutes later, Wanda did it again, this time with a piece of bacon. Y/N accepted it just as naturally. Yelena watched over the rim of her coffee before quietly shaking her head. “I knew this was going to start.”

Wanda looked over. “What?”

Yelena only roll her eyes and say “Nothing.” But the smile on her lips betrays her. 

Wanda roll her eyes back and reach for Y/N plate stealing one of the crispy bacon strips.

Y/N noticed immediately. “…You took my bacon.”

“I did.”

“You could've asked.”

“I knew you'd say yes.”

Y/N considered that for a moment before nodding. “…That's true.”

She simply took another strip from the untouched side plate she'd ordered.

By the time Yelena had finished her omelet, Y/N had already cleaned her first plate completely. Not a crumb remained.

The waitress happened to walk past just as Y/N pulled the second plate of pancakes closer.

“Oh, honey,” she said with an impressed smile. “I’ve never seen anybody eat that much!”

Y/N looked up. “I was hungry.”

“I can tell.”

The waitress laughed warmly before continuing on to another table.

Wanda watched with quiet amusement as Y/N finished the second stack of pancakes, then reached for the remaining bacon and eggs she'd ordered on the side.

“You really were hungry.”

“I slept well.”

“I've noticed.”

Within another few minutes, the second plate was just as clean as the first.

Yelena leaned back in her seat, looking at the two empty plates in front of Y/N. “…Where does it all go?”

Y/N looked down at herself. “I don't know.”

“The wolf,” Wanda answered with a smile.

Y/N nodded thoughtfully. “…Probably.”

Yelena couldn't help smiling. “I should've guessed.”

She picked up her coffee again, watching Wanda absentmindedly brush a smear of syrup from the corner of Y/N's mouth with her thumb before returning to her own breakfast as if she hadn't done anything unusual.

Yelena simply rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Still ridiculous.

But... she supposed there were worse things than watching two people who'd finally found a little happiness after everything they'd survived.

---

Soon they were back on the road.

This time, Yelena insisted on driving again.

“I've had enough of being trapped in the backseat watching you two flirt,” she'd declared before tossing Y/N the keys to lock the car instead.

So Y/N sat in the passenger seat while Wanda settled into the back. It wasn't ideal. Every now and then, Y/N glanced into the rearview mirror just to check on Wanda. Every time their eyes met, Wanda smiled, and Y/N couldn't help smiling back before returning her attention to the road ahead.

Yelena noticed every single exchange.

She chose not to comment.

The day passed much like the ones before it. Long highways. Small towns. Forests gave way to open farmland before disappearing behind more stretches of empty road.

Around noon they stopped at another roadside diner for lunch before continuing south. A few hours later, they pulled into a gas station to fill the tank.

While Yelena paid for the fuel, Y/N disappeared into the convenience store. She emerged several minutes later carrying two bags absolutely overflowing with snacks.

Yelena looked at them, then at Y/N. “…Planning for winter?”

Y/N peeked inside one of the bags. “I got hungry.”

“You haven't stopped eating.”

“The wolf burns a lot of calories.”

“So apparently.”

The snacks disappeared surprisingly quickly over the next few hours. By the time dusk settled over the countryside, only a few empty wrappers remained on the floorboard beneath Y/N's seat.

The sun finally disappeared below the horizon just as another faded neon sign came into view.

MOTEL

DINER

VACANCY

Yelena let out a relieved sigh. “Finally.”

She pulled into the parking lot and switched off the engine.

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

Then, almost in unison, all three doors opened.

Yelena climbed out first, stretching both arms over her head until her back cracked. “Oh...” She rolled one shoulder. “I think I've been sitting for ten years.”

Behind her, Wanda stepped out more carefully, immediately stretching her legs before letting out a quiet groan. “I never want to see another highway.”

“You'll see one tomorrow.”

“…Don't remind me.”

Y/N rounded the front of the car carrying all three duffel bags over one shoulder as if they weighed nothing.

“You can give me mine,” Wanda offered.

“I've got it.”

“I know you do.”

Still, Wanda slipped closer anyway, leaning lightly against Y/N's side. Without even looking, Y/N's free arm settled naturally around her waist.

It happened so automatically neither of them seemed aware of it. Yelena noticed. She simply shook her head with a small smile before leading the way toward the diner attached to the motel.

Warm air and the smell of grilled food greeted them the moment they stepped inside. The diner was small but cozy, with only a handful of occupied booths. Country music drifted softly from an old radio somewhere behind the counter while a waitress welcomed them with a tired but friendly smile.

“Evening, folks.”

“Evening,” Yelena answered.

“Booth okay?”

“Perfect.”

She led them toward the back of the diner.

Yelena slid into one side while Wanda and Y/N took the other. Wanda barely made it halfway across the booth before leaning against Y/N again. Y/N shifted closer without interrupting her reading of the menu, one arm remaining loosely around Wanda's waist beneath the table.

Yelena watched them for a second before looking back at her own menu. “…Road trips are exhausting.”

“They are,” Wanda agreed. “I cannot wait to lie down.”

“You've been saying that since lunch.”

“Because I meant it since lunch.”

Wanda laughed softly. “I think we've all reached our limit.”

Y/N nodded. “I could sleep for a day.”

Yelena looked over. “You? Sleep?”

“I do sleep.”

“Barely.”

The waitress returned with her notepad. “What can I get you?”

Yelena ordered first. “The chicken fried steak.” Wanda chose the grilled chicken with vegetables. Y/N studied the menu another moment. “I'll have the ribeye.”

The waitress nodded. “Okay...”

Y/N glanced down once more. “And!…another ribeye.”

The waitress smiled surprised. “Coming right up.”

Once she left, the three of them settled into the comfortable silence that only came after spending an entire week together. No one felt the need to fill every quiet moment anymore. Sometimes simply existing together was enough.

Their food arrived surprisingly quickly. The waitress carefully distributed the heavy plates across the table.

“Need anything else?”

“We're good,” Wanda said with a smile.

“Just holler.”

The smell of grilled steak immediately filled the booth. Y/N thanked the waitress before cutting into the first ribeye.

For several minutes, the only sounds were cutlery against plates and the quiet conversations drifting from the rest of the diner.

Halfway through her first steak, Y/N suddenly stopped chewing. Her fork froze halfway to the plate.

A second later, the bell above the diner's entrance jingled. Three men walked inside. They looked like ordinary travelers. Work boots. Baseball caps. Dust-covered jackets. One of them laughed at something another had said.

The waitress greeted them with the same warm smile she'd given everyone else.

“Evening, gentlemen.”

“Table for three.”

“Right this way.”

She led them deeper into the diner before seating them in a booth three rows behind Yelena's.

Close. Too close.

Y/N's breathing slowed almost imperceptibly. She inhaled once through her nose.

Then again. The scent hit her all at once.

Gun oil.

Cheap aftershave.

Hydra.

Her muscles locked. Wanda felt it immediately. Y/N didn't look at the men again. Instead, she slowly turned toward Wanda.

Golden eyes met green.

Hydra.

The single thought brushed against Wanda's mind like ice. Wanda's expression didn't change. She simply looked across the table. Yelena was finishing the last of her juice.

Their eyes met.

Wanda gave the smallest nod.

Yelena didn't ask a single question. “…Got it.”

She calmly reached into her jacket and pulled out several folded bills—enough to cover dinner and leave a generous tip. She tucked them beneath her empty glass without drawing attention.

None of them looked toward the three men again.

None of them needed to. Because if Y/N recognized that scent...Then they'd already stayed one minute too long.

Yelena didn't rush. That was the first thing Wanda noticed. No sudden movements. No panic. She simply folded her napkin, stood from the booth, and slipped on her jacket. “Ready?”

Y/N rose first, her eyes never once drifting toward the three men behind them. Wanda stood beside her.

The waitress happened to pass by just as they reached the register.

“Everything alright?” she asked warmly.

Yelena smiled with practiced ease. “Food was great.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

She tucked the cash beneath the receipt holder. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Have a safe night.”

“You too.”

Nothing looked unusual. Nothing sounded unusual. Three tired travelers paying for dinner before checking into the motel.

Yelena pushed open the diner's door. Cold night air rushed over them. The parking lot stretched beneath buzzing neon lights.

Y/N immediately swept the area with one slow glance. Empty. Too empty.

“Car,” Yelena said quietly.

They didn't run. Running attracted attention. Instead, they walked briskly across the parking lot. Wanda climbed into the backseat, Y/N slid into the passenger seat, and Yelena was already starting the engine.

The SUV roared to life. She shifted into reverse. As they backed out of the parking space—The diner's front door burst open.

The three men stepped outside. One looked directly toward them. Another reached beneath his jacket.

“Go,” Y/N said.

Yelena didn't need to be told twice. The tires squealed across the asphalt as the SUV shot out of the motel parking lot and onto the highway.

For several seconds there was nothing.

Just darkness.

Headlights cutting through the empty road.

Y/N twisted in her seat, checking the passenger mirror. The motel was shrinking behind them. Then—Headlights.

Two vehicles exploded out of the motel entrance.

“They're coming,” Wanda said.

“I know,” Yelena answered calmly, pushing harder on the accelerator.

The engine growled.

Eighty. Ninety. One hundred.

The speedometer climbed relentlessly.

Behind them, the two SUVs matched every increase.

“They're gaining.”

“I see them.”

Yelena's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. The road ahead curved sharply through dense forest. She took it without touching the brakes.

The tires screamed.

The SUV leaned dangerously before gripping the pavement again.

Behind them, the first pursuing vehicle drifted wide before recovering.

“They're trained,” Y/N said quietly.

“I noticed.”

Gunfire shattered the night.

CRACK!

The rear windshield exploded inward. Glass showered across the backseat. Wanda ducked instinctively. Another shot punched through the tailgate.

“They're shooting!”

“You think?” Yelena barked.

She swerved violently left. Then right.

Another volley cracked through the darkness.

Bullets skipped across the asphalt. One struck the rear bumper.

Y/N twisted farther around. “They're moving alongside.”

“I need them behind us.”

“They won't stay there.”

“I know.”

The second SUV suddenly pulled into the opposite lane, trying to overtake.

“Oh, no you don't.”

Yelena jerked the wheel left, forcing the pursuing vehicle back behind them just before an oncoming truck thundered past.

The truck's horn blared.

The Hydra driver barely avoided a head-on collision.

“Nice.”

“Thank you.”

More gunfire. A bullet punched through the passenger-side mirror, exploding it into fragments.

Y/N didn't even flinch. “They're trying to disable us.”

“They're about to become my problem.”

Yelena took another hard corner before shouting, “Switch!”

Without hesitation, Y/N unbuckled. Wanda immediately grabbed the steering wheel with her magic from the backseat, keeping the SUV straight just long enough.

Yelena climbed halfway across the center console while Y/N slid behind the wheel in one smooth motion.

The transition took barely three seconds. Y/N caught the wheel.

Yelena was already hanging halfway out the passenger window. Wind whipped violently through her blonde hair as she drew one of her pistols.

“Little closer!”

Y/N understood immediately. She eased off the accelerator just enough.

The pursuing SUV closed the gap.

Closer.

Closer.

Yelena steadied herself against the roof.

“Perfect.”

BANG!

The first shot shattered the enemy's windshield.

BANG!

The second struck the front tire, exploding it. Rubber shredded across the highway. The SUV jerked violently sideways. Its driver fought for control.

Didn't get it.

The vehicle spun twice before smashing through the guardrail and tumbling down the embankment.

Yelena climbed back inside. “One down.”

She looked into the side mirror.

“…Ah.”

“What?”

“More.”

Headlights appeared over the hill behind them.

Not one. Three.

Then another.

“Oh, come on.”

Yelena slammed a fresh magazine into her pistol.

“How many people did you make angry?”

“I don't know,” Wanda answered.

Y/N's jaw tightened. “They've been waiting.”

The first of the new SUVs closed rapidly.

Then another. Four vehicles now, spread across both lanes.

Yelena cursed under her breath. “This is getting ridiculous.”

The nearest SUV pulled alongside them.

Its passenger rolled down the window.

Gun raised.

“Wanda!”

Scarlet energy erupted from the backseat. The red glow flooded the SUV. The entire vehicle lifted off the road as though grabbed by an invisible giant.

The Hydra agents inside had just enough time to scream. Then—The SUV flipped, crashing onto its roof before skidding across the highway in a shower of sparks.

The second vehicle swerved to avoid the wreck.

Wanda caught that one too. With a sharp motion of her hand, it rolled violently into the ditch.

Silence.

For exactly one second.

Yelena stared into the mirror. “…You could've done that earlier.”

“I was trying not to draw attention!”

“Little late for that!”

Before Wanda could answer, Y/N's instincts screamed.

“Left!”

A black SUV burst from a side road hidden by the trees.

It had been waiting.

The vehicle accelerated straight toward them.

“No—!”

CRASH!

The impact slammed into the driver's side with bone-rattling force.

Metal screamed. Glass exploded. The entire SUV spun violently across the highway.

Rubber screamed against the asphalt.

The driver's side slammed into the guardrail with enough force to fold steel inward. Glass exploded across the cabin as every airbag deployed at once, filling the vehicle with white fabric and the smell of burning propellant.

Wanda's head whipped sideways.

Crack.

Her temple slammed against the edge of the window before she was thrown into the opposite side of the backseat.

White flashed across her vision. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Only the ticking of the ruined engine echoed through the night.

Yelena was the first to react. “This is not a good way to die. You two okay?”

Wanda pushed herself upright with a groan, one hand immediately flying to the side of her head. Her fingers came away streaked with blood. The world tilted violently before settling again.

“...I'm fine,” she managed, though her voice sounded distant even to herself.

Y/N looked over immediately. “You're bleeding.”

Wanda blinked several times, trying to clear the ringing from her ears. “Just... hit my head.” She pressed harder against the cut, ignoring the throbbing behind her eyes.

“I'm okay.”

Y/N wasn't convinced. The words had barely left Wanda's mouth when blinding headlights flooded the highway.

One SUV screeched sideways in front of them. Another blocked the road behind, doors bursting open. Hydra agents poured onto the asphalt with military precision, rifles already raised.

“There!” one shouted. “Move!”

Yelena kicked her door open before the first shot was fired.

Gunfire erupted.

Bullets ripped through the windshield as everyone scattered from the vehicle.

Yelena hit the ground in a combat roll. Her pistol barked twice before she was fully upright. Two Hydra rifles spun from their owners' hands.

She never stopped moving.

A third soldier rounded the hood of the SUV. Yelena met him with the butt of her pistol, smashing it across his nose before driving a knife beneath his arm. The man collapsed.

Another replaced him instantly.

Hydra had learned. They didn't attack one at a time. They moved in coordinated pairs. Suppressing fire. Flanking positions. Communication. But Y/N charged anyway.

A baton crackled with blue electricity as one soldier swung toward her head. She ducked beneath it, seized his forearm, and snapped it across her knee.

The scream barely escaped before another rifle stock crashed into her ribs from behind.

She didn't even turn. Her elbow shot backward into the man's throat. He folded instantly.

Another agent rushed from the left. Y/N caught him by the tactical vest and hurled him straight into the windshield of the lead SUV. Glass burst outward in a glittering explosion.

Across the road, scarlet energy exploded through the darkness.

Wanda caught three rifles at once, wrenching them from Hydra's grip before spinning them into the trees. An agent lunged at her with a combat knife.

She sidestepped. The blade missed by inches.

Her magic wrapped around his ankle, slamming him headfirst into the pavement. Another fired from behind. Before Wanda could turn—Yelena shot the rifle from his hands.

“I've got your back!”

“Thanks!”

For several brutal minutes, the highway became chaos.

Gunfire.

Magic.

Flying bodies.

Sparks.

Shattered glass.

Then—Silence.

Eight Hydra agents lay unconscious across the road. Yelena lowered her pistol. “...That felt too easy.”

Almost immediately, engines roared through the darkness. More headlights.

Three.

No...

Four.

Y/N looked up first. “They're not finished.”

Black SUVs surrounded them. Doors opened and more Hydra soldiers stepped out.

Then two figures emerged from the final vehicle. Neither carried a weapon. Neither looked concerned. Both were enormous. Broad enough to block the open door behind them. Dark tactical armor covered their bodies from neck to boots. Their expressions remained perfectly blank.

Y/N's heartbeat slowed. “...Enhanced.”

One of the men smiled. Not confidently.

Hungrily.

He disappeared. Not literally. Just impossibly fast. One instant he stood thirty feet away. The next—His fist crashed into Y/N's guard with enough force to create a shockwave.

The impact blasted her off her feet.

She flew backward through the air, smashing completely across the hood of a wrecked SUV before hitting the pavement hard enough to leave cracks in the asphalt.

She rolled twice, then forced herself upright.

The enhanced soldier hadn't moved. He simply waited.

Y/N wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.

“...Strong.”

“So are you.”

He smiled again.

Then attacked. The road beneath them exploded as they collided. Every punch sounded like a car crash. Y/N landed three clean strikes to his ribs.

He barely reacted. His knee slammed into her stomach. The air exploded from her lungs. A backhand sent her skidding twenty feet across broken pavement.

She'd never been hit that hard. Not since Hydra.

Across the highway, the second enhanced soldier crashed straight through Wanda's telekinetic barrier. It shattered like glass.

“What—”

Wanda instinctively reached out again, scarlet magic flaring around both hands. A sharp spike of pain exploded behind her eyes. Her vision doubled just for an instant the spell faltered.

It was enough.

The enhanced soldier burst through the half-formed barrier before it could solidify. He caught her wrist and twisted.

Pain shot up her arm. Wanda tried to throw him backward, but another wave of dizziness hit her. The ringing in her ears grew louder, making it harder to focus her magic.

Scarlet energy flickered wildly instead of striking cleanly.

His fist crashed into her ribs.

Wanda cried out as she slammed into the side of the ruined SUV, leaving a deep dent in the metal.

“Wanda!”

Y/N lunged toward her but the first enhanced intercepted. His shoulder drove into Y/N's chest. She hit the ground. Before she could rise—a boot slammed into her ribs.

The enhanced wasn't trying to beat her. He was keeping her away from Wanda.

Behind them, Yelena fought desperately to keep the remaining Hydra soldiers off both of them, firing, reloading, and switching to knives whenever someone got too close.

“We're getting circled!”

Wanda staggered upright, one hand braced against the SUV. Blood continued to trickle from the cut on her temple, dripping onto her collar. Every heartbeat made the pounding inside her skull worse. She shook her head once, trying to clear the haze.

It didn't help. The concussion slowed everything. Her thoughts. Her reactions.

Even her magic.

Normally, she would've stopped him before he got within arm's reach. Tonight...She was always a fraction of a second too late.

The enhanced soldier closed the distance again. He caught her by the throat. Lifted her completely off the ground.

Scarlet magic erupted around his arm, but Wanda struggled to maintain her concentration through the dizziness. The energy surged unevenly instead of crushing him outright.

He slammed her into the SUV again. The impact sent another burst of agony through her head.

Stars exploded across her vision. Blood ran freely down the side of her face.

He pulled back his fist. Y/N saw it.

Saw Wanda's unfocused eyes. Saw the blood. Saw her struggle to even keep her magic steady. Saw the fist descending.

Something ancient inside her shattered.

The growl that erupted from her chest didn't sound human. It shook the trees. Hydra agents froze. Even the enhanced soldiers hesitated. Bones cracked. Muscles expanded. Dark fur burst through skin.

Within seconds, a massive wolf stood where Y/N had been. Golden eyes burned with pure fury. The wolf didn't roar. She attacked.

She hit the enhanced soldier like a freight train. Massive jaws crushed his armored shoulder. Steel folded between her teeth.

He screamed.

The wolf flung him nearly forty feet. He crashed through the windshield of his own SUV before the entire vehicle rolled onto its side.

The second enhanced charged. The wolf met him head-on. Claws tore through reinforced armor. He punched her ribs hard enough to splinter nearby asphalt.

She answered by driving him into the highway with both forepaws. The pavement collapsed beneath them. He tried to stand but she didn't let him.

Claws.

Teeth.

Another slam.

Again.

Again.

Again.

She fought like an animal protecting its mate. Not a soldier. Not an Avenger.

A wolf.

Every strike became more vicious than the last.

Nearby, Wanda forced herself onto one knee, clutching her side.

“Y...Y/N...”

One Hydra soldier hadn't joined the fight. He'd gone back to the SUV.

Carefully...He unlocked a reinforced case. Inside rested a long silver weapon covered in Hydra markings and glowing blue conduits.

Yelena's stomach dropped. “...Wanda.”

Wanda looked up. The barrel was already charging. “No...”

The soldier smiled. He wasn't aiming at the wolf. He was aiming behind her.

At Wanda.

The wolf couldn't see him.

“Y/N!” Wanda screamed.

The wolf turned, saw the weapon, then Wanda.

There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. She leapt. The blue spear erupted from the launcher.

It struck the wolf square in the chest.

The weapon didn't explode. It punched through. Clean through. The force carried the wolf backward several feet before she hit the ground.

Silence.

The wolf remained standing for one impossible second. Blood poured from both sides of the wound. A broken whine escaped her throat. Then her legs gave out.

As she collapsed, the transformation unraveled.

Fur disappeared. Bones shifted. Claws became trembling fingers.

Y/N lay motionless on the shattered highway. A gaping hole tore through the center of her chest.

“Wanda...” Yelena's voice broke.

Wanda didn't answer. She couldn't.

The world had narrowed to one impossible sight.

Y/N.

Still.

Bleeding.

Not breathing.

Something inside Wanda broke beyond repair. Scarlet energy exploded from her body with a force that split the highway apart. The night turned crimson.

Cars lifted into the air. Hydra soldiers screamed as invisible hands seized every one of them simultaneously. The enhanced soldiers fought against it.

It didn't matter.

With a single, grief-filled scream, Wanda unleashed everything. The shockwave tore across the highway. Every Hydra vehicle crumpled like paper.

The launcher was ripped apart atom by atom. The enhanced soldiers were hurled hundreds of feet into the darkness. The remaining agents slammed unconscious into trees, concrete barriers, and overturned wreckage.

When the red light finally faded...Nothing moved. Nothing except Wanda.

She was already on her knees beside Y/N, her hands shaking as they reached for the wound that no healing magic in the world should have been able to fix.

“No…” Her voice barely existed.

Scarlet energy poured frantically from her palms, wrapping around the gaping wound in Y/N's chest.

“Come on…”

The magic trembled violently.

“Come on…”

It wasn't working.

Blood continued to seep between her glowing fingers, warm against her skin.

“No, no, no…”

“Wanda.” Yelena's voice sounded distant.

Wanda didn't hear her. She pressed both hands harder over the wound as though she could physically hold Y/N together.

“Please…”

Her magic searched desperately for something to mend.

Broken ribs.

Torn muscle.

Collapsed lung.

The hole through Y/N's chest.

Every spell unraveled the moment it reached the wound, as though something was consuming the magic itself.

“No…” Wanda whispered again, tears spilling freely now. “Please…”

Y/N didn't move.

Didn't breathe. Didn't even twitch.

The silence was unbearable.

Yelena knelt beside them, breathing heavily from the fight. She glanced over her shoulder, pistol still raised as she scanned the dark highway for movement.

Nothing. Only wrecked vehicles. Unconscious Hydra soldiers. Smoke rising into the night.

She looked back at Wanda.

“…Wanda.”

Nothing.

“Wanda.”

Still nothing.

Yelena reached out, carefully placing a hand on Wanda's shoulder.

The witch flinched violently.

“Don't touch me.”

“Wanda.”

“I'm fixing her.”

Her voice cracked.

“I'm fixing her.”

Yelena's heart sank.

Because Wanda wasn't speaking to her anymore. She was pleading with herself. With her magic. With the universe. Anything that might be listening.

Scarlet energy intensified until it illuminated the entire highway. Wanda gritted her teeth.

“You heal,” she whispered to Y/N, tears falling onto her face. “You always heal.”

Nothing.

“You heal.”

Nothing.

“You promised me…”

Another desperate wave of magic surged into the wound.

It vanished like pouring water into an endless abyss.

Wanda's breathing became ragged. “No…”

Yelena's expression tightened. Something about the weapon...It wasn't just a projectile. It had done something else.

She stood abruptly. “I'll find it.”

Wanda didn't answer.

Yelena hurried toward the shattered remains of the launcher scattered across the road. Pieces of silver alloy still glowed faintly blue.

She crouched beside the largest fragment.

Hydra markings. Unknown circuitry. Burned beyond recognition.

“Damn it…”

Nearby lay the soldier who had fired it. Still alive but barely conscious.

Yelena was beside him in an instant, grabbing him by the front of his tactical vest and dragging him upright.

“What was that weapon?”

The man laughed weakly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “You... don't know…”

Yelena slammed him against the overturned SUV.

“What. Was. It.”

He smiled. “A... wolf killer.”

Yelena's blood ran cold.

“It stops…” He coughed violently. “…regeneration.”

“No.”

“It destroys…” Another cough. “The healing response…”

Yelena stared at him.

“No…”

The man laughed again. “…By morning…”

He never finished. His head rolled limply to one side.

Unconscious. Or dead.

Yelena didn't care.

She looked back toward Wanda.

Toward Y/N.

Toward the pool of blood slowly spreading across the broken highway.

“Wanda…”

The witch still hadn't moved. Her forehead rested against Y/N's.

“I'm here,” she whispered brokenly. “I'm right here.”

Another pulse of scarlet magic.

Another failure.

“You don't leave me.”

Silence.

“You hear me?”

Nothing.

“You don't get to leave me.”

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The blood on Y/N's chest refused to stop flowing.

Then—Almost too faint to hear...

A tiny hitch.

Not a breath.

Not quite.

More like...

A weak, wet gasp.

Wanda froze.

Her entire body went still.

“…Y/N?”

Another tiny sound escaped Y/N's lips. So faint it could have been imagined. But Wanda had heard it. Hope exploded through her chest so violently it almost hurt.

“Yelena!”

Yelena spun around immediately.

“What?”

“She's alive.”

Yelena was beside them in seconds. The two women held their breath. Several agonizing moments passed.

Then...

Another shallow, ragged breath.

Painfully weak. Barely enough to move Y/N's chest. But it was there.

Yelena let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

“She’s fighting.”

Wanda's tears fell freely as she gently cup Y/N's face with one hand while the other still pour her magic into Y/N chest.

“I know…” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief and terror all at once. “I know, my little wolf. Just keep fighting. I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

---

Y/N's POV

Pain.

It was everywhere.

Not sharp. Not dull. Just... everywhere.

Every breath burned. Every heartbeat sent something warm spreading through her chest. She couldn't move. Couldn't open her eyes. Couldn't even tell if she was lying down or standing.

There was only darkness.

And voices.

"...Y/N..."

Wanda.

She knew that voice anywhere.

Soft. Shaking and crying.

Y/N tried to answer but nothing came out.

Her lips refused to move.

"...stay with me..." Another voice.

Further away.

"...we need to move, Wanda." Yelena.

"They'll send more."

"No."

Wanda's answer came immediately.

"I'm not leaving her."

"We're not leaving her."

A pause.

"We're taking her with us."

Y/N wanted to tell Wanda she was okay. Wanted to reassure her. But all she managed was a weak twitch of her fingers. Or maybe she imagined it.

Something warm squeezed her hand. Immediately.

Like Wanda had been holding it the entire time.

"I'm here," Wanda whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here."

Y/N tried to smile. She wasn't sure if she did. The darkness swallowed her again.

---

The next thing she knew...

Movement. Everything hurt. Every bump rattled through her body. The steady vibration beneath her told her she was in a vehicle.

The smell of gasoline.

Leather.

Blood.

The SUV.

Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. She forced them open. Only a sliver. The world was nothing but blurred lights streaking past the window.

"...Slow down!" Wanda shouted.

"I'm trying!" Yelena yelled back.

"They're behind us!"

The SUV suddenly jerked hard around a corner. Y/N's body slid several inches across the backseat despite the hands desperately trying to keep her still. Pain exploded through her chest.

A broken groan escaped her lips.

"...Ngh..."

Her eyes rolled back before she could stop them.

"Shit!"

Wanda caught her immediately.

"What the hell, Yelena?"

"There was a truck!"

"I don't care!"

"I'd rather not die tonight!"

"You almost killed her!"

"I almost killed all of us!"

Y/N barely understood the words. Everything sounded underwater. She felt warm hands press gently—but firmly—against the wound in her chest.

They'd never left.

Wanda.

"I'm sorry," Wanda whispered immediately, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, baby.”

Gentle fingers brushed damp hair away from Y/N's forehead.

"We're almost there." A kiss touched her temple. "Stay with me."

Y/N tried.

God...

She tried.

But the darkness pulled harder. Everything disappeared again.

---

Cold.

That was the first thing she noticed.

Then...

Sheets. A mattress. The faint smell of old wood, medicine and rain.

Y/N groaned quietly.

"...Mm..."

Her eyelids fluttered open. Everything was blurry. The ceiling swayed strangely above her.

Where...

Where was she?

She inhaled instinctively. Trying to find something familiar.

Wanda.

Usually Wanda's scent grounded her immediately. But all she could smell was antiseptic.

Dust.

Old furniture and her own blood.

Confusion settled heavily in her chest. She blinked several times. Nothing came into focus.

"...W..."

Her throat hurt. She slowly turned her head. Just find an empty room and no signs of Wanda.

Her heartbeat spiked instantly.

Panic.

She pushed herself upright. The movement sent unbearable pain through her chest.

"...Ah..."

Her vision blackened around the edges.

No.

No, where—

"Wanda..."

Her voice barely came out. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The second her feet touched the floor…they gave out.

Y/N hit one knee hard against the wooden boards. Pain shot through her body but she didn't care.

"Wanda..."

She forced herself up using the bedside table. The room tilted violently. She stumbled into the wall.

Caught herself and kept moving.

Her hearing rang loudly. Somewhere nearby...

Voices.

Muffled.

Someone was talking. She couldn't make out the words. Only that people were there. She staggered toward the bedroom door, one hand pressed against the wall to keep herself upright.

Every step hurt. Every breath burned.

Her chest felt tightly wrapped beneath thick bandages.

She reached the hallway. The voices became clearer. Still distorted beneath the relentless ringing in her ears.

Another doorway. Light spilled through it. She stumbled toward it.

Almost there...She leaned against the frame—And froze.

Wanda.

Standing across the room talking to someone.

Yelena.

There was someone else too but Y/N didn't register who. All she saw was Wanda. Alive.

Before anyone could react—She lurched forward. Her legs completely gave out.

"Wanda..."

Wanda turned at the sound just in time to catch her.

Y/N practically collapsed into her arms.

"W-Whoa!"

Wanda wrapped both arms around her immediately before she hit the floor.

"Y/N!"

Y/N buried her face against Wanda's neck.

Frantically.

Desperately.

She inhaled over and over.

Finding her scent. Making sure it was real.

"You..." she whispered hoarsely, panic still evident in every word. "You're okay..."

Her nose brushed frantically along Wanda's neck, her shoulder, her hair.

Checking.

Confirming.

"You weren't..."

Another shaky breath.

"...hurt..."

Wanda's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Oh, baby…”

Y/N clung tighter despite how badly it hurt.

"I couldn't..." Her breathing hitched. "I couldn't smell you..."

"I know."

"I thought..."

"I know."

Wanda carefully cradled the back of her head, tears already slipping down her cheeks.

"I'm okay."

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at her face.

Still blurry. Still doubled. She reached up with trembling fingers and cupped Wanda's cheek.

"...You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Only then did some of the panic leave Y/N's body. Her shoulders sagged. Relief washed through her.

"...Good..."

The single word was barely audible. Then her knees buckled again.

"Y/N!"

She completely went limp in Wanda's arms, unconscious once more before Wanda could finish calling her name.

---

Pain greeted Y/N before consciousness did. Not the unbearable agony from before.

This was different.

A deep, dull ache spread through her chest every time she breathed, as though every muscle had been torn apart and stitched back together.

She frowned.

The light behind her eyelids felt too bright. Slowly…she opened them. The room blurred for only a second before gradually sharpening into focus.

The ceiling was wooden.

Old beams.

Stone walls.

A fireplace crackled quietly somewhere nearby. Nothing spun this time. She squinted against the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

A gentle hand brushed through her hair.

“Easy…”

Wanda.

Y/N turned her head.

Wanda was sitting in a chair pulled right beside the bed. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes, and her hair was tied back messily. She looked like she hadn't slept properly in days.

Despite that…the moment their eyes met, Wanda smiled.

A shaky, relieved smile.

“Hi.”

Y/N's lips felt dry.

“…Hi.”

Her voice came out rough, almost unrecognizable.

Wanda immediately reached for the glass on the bedside table.

“Easy.”

She slid one arm carefully behind Y/N's shoulders, helping her sit just enough to drink. The cool water soothed her throat.

Y/N sighed softly.

“…Better?”

She nodded.

Wanda helped her lie back down before brushing another strand of hair from her forehead.

For several moments, neither of them spoke. They simply looked at each other. Making sure the other was really there.

Y/N was the first to break the silence.

“…How long?”

Wanda's smile faltered.

“You've been asleep...” She swallowed. “…Three days.”

Y/N blinked slowly. Three…days?

“I thought...” she whispered.

“I know.”

Wanda reached for her hand immediately, lacing their fingers together.

“We made it.”

“The safe house?”

Wanda nodded.

“We were only about forty minutes away.”

“What happened?”

For a moment, Wanda didn't answer. Her thumb continued tracing slow circles across the back of Y/N's hand.

“You passed out again in the SUV. We couldn't stop. They kept sending more patrols, so Yelena drove...” She let out a tired breath. “…Like a maniac.”

Despite everything, the corner of Y/N's mouth twitched.

“I believe that.”

“It wasn't funny.”

“I know.”

“We got here just before sunrise.”

Y/N listened quietly.

“The weapon...” Wanda's voice caught. “…It wasn't normal.” She looked down at their joined hands. “It went straight through your chest.” Her breathing became uneven.

“I tried healing you. I tried everything. Closing the wound. Stopping the bleeding. Repairing the damage.” Her voice broke. “…I couldn't.”

Tears welled in her eyes again.

“My magic just...” She shook her head helplessly. “It wouldn't work.”

Y/N squeezed her hand as much as her weakened body allowed.

“The man who fired it,” Wanda continued quietly, “Yelena found out it was designed specifically for enhanced people.”

Y/N frowned.

“It stopped your healing.”

The words hung heavily between them.

“For almost two days,” Wanda whispered, “nothing happened.”

“I thought...”She couldn't finish. Her lips trembled. “I thought I'd lost you.” A tear escaped despite her efforts to stop it.

“I kept checking your heartbeat.”

“Every few minutes.”

“I was terrified it would stop.”

Y/N's heart clenched. “Wanda...”

“The wound finally started closing yesterday.” Wanda laughed softly through her tears. “Just... a little. But it was enough.”

She looked down at Y/N's bandaged chest.

“Then this morning... your healing finally came back. The hole closed. The lung repaired itself. The ribs started knitting back together.”

She smiled through her tears.

“You're still healing…But you're healing.”

Y/N couldn't stand seeing her like this. She slowly tried to push herself up. But a sharp pain ripped through her chest.

“…Ah...”

She immediately collapsed back against the pillow with a pained groan.

“Hey.”

Wanda was beside her in an instant.

“Don't. You've got a hole that only mostly closed.”

Y/N winced.

“I just...” Another painful breath. “…Wanted...”

She reached up anyway. Her fingers brushed against Wanda's cheek.

“…Come here.”

Wanda didn't hesitate. She leaned forward immediately until their foreheads rested together. Y/N's thumb gently brushed away one of the tears still clinging to Wanda's face.

“I'm sorry...”

“No.”

Wanda shook her head immediately. “Don't apologize.”

“I scared you.”

“You almost died.”

“I'm still sorry.”

A watery laugh escaped Wanda.

“You really are impossible.”

“I know.”

They stayed like that for several quiet moments. Just breathing. Just existing.

Neither wanting to let go.

Then—A familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

“Well...”

The voice was hoarse. Warm. Carried the unmistakable hint of amusement.

“I leave you two alone for a month... and this is what happens?”

Both of them turned.

Standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame with her arms loosely crossed, was Natasha.

There were fresh bruises along her jaw. A bandage wrapped around one forearm and she looked tired but she was smiling.

A real smile.

Her green eyes landed on Y/N.

“They said you'd wake up today.” She pushed herself off the doorframe. “I was starting to think you were trying to sleep through my welcome home.”

Y/N stared at her for a long second.

Then...“…Nat.”

Natasha's smile softened.

“Hey, pup.”

The nickname alone was enough to make Y/N smile weakly.

Natasha let out a quiet breath, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

Y/N looked between Natasha and Wanda. “…How?”

“We got here first,” Natasha explained, stepping farther into the room. “Steve, Bucky, and I reached this safe house two days before you three did.”

“…Then?”

“Yelena came crashing through the front door just before sunrise.” A smirk tugged at Natasha's lips. “Literally.”

Wanda sighed. “She almost drove through the fence.”

“I was in a hurry,” Yelena called from somewhere down the hallway.

Ignoring her, Natasha continued, “Yelena was covered in dirt. You were covered in blood.” Her gaze settled on Y/N. “…And you looked dead.”

The room fell silent.

“Wanda wouldn't let anyone touch you.”

Y/N looked at Wanda, who lowered her eyes to their joined hands. “I thought if I let go...” she whispered, “…you'd stop breathing.”

Y/N gently squeezed her hand.

“When none of us went back, after that mission…” Natasha continued, “Clint came to me immediately. Didn't tell anyone. Just left. Classic Clint. A few hours later, Sam showed up too, looking for Steve and Bucky. Fury had managed to reach him.”

“Fury?” Wanda asked.

Natasha nodded. “He knew something was wrong inside SHIELD but didn't know who he could trust. His orders were simple: find us, stay off the grid, and don't trust anyone claiming to be SHIELD until he says otherwise.”

“…So officially?” Y/N asked.

“We're all missing,” Natasha replied. “Fury listed every one of us as MIA. That buys him time to figure out who's compromised.”

“And while we stay hidden...” Y/N murmured.

“We figure out what Hydra is really planning,” Natasha finished. “And how deep this goes.”

A knock sounded against the already open door.

Yelena leaned against the frame with an apple in one hand. She looked at Y/N, took another bite, and said, “Oh. The corpse woke up.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “There she is.”

“I was getting bored talking to Sleeping Beauty.”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “…Hi.”

“Hi.”

Yelena wandered over to the bed and, for once, dropped the sarcasm. “…Thanks.”

Y/N blinked. “What for?”

“For jumping in front of that thing.” Her voice softened. “It wasn't just Wanda you protected. It would've hit both of us.”

Silence lingered before she shoved her free hand into her pocket. “…So... thanks.”

“I'd do it again,” Y/N said.

“I know.” Yelena sighed. “That's what worries me.”

Natasha clapped her hands once. “Alright. Mission briefing can wait. You've been unconscious for three days. Your only job right now is recovering. We'll catch you up later.”

Y/N nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha gave her shoulder a careful squeeze. “Come on, Yelena.”

Yelena took another bite of her apple. “Don't do anything dramatic while we're gone.”

Y/N looked genuinely confused. “I'm in bed.”

“Exactly.”

The sisters disappeared into the hallway, leaving only the crackling fireplace to fill the silence.

Y/N turned her head. “Wanda.”

“Hm?”

“Come here.”

Without a word, Wanda kicked off her shoes and carefully climbed onto the bed beside her, taking care not to jostle the bandages around Y/N's chest. The mattress dipped as Y/N slowly lifted an arm despite the pain and wrapped it around Wanda's waist, pulling her close.

Wanda melted against her, resting her head beneath Y/N's chin.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Y/N simply breathed her in.

“…Did you sleep?” she finally asked.

“I did.”

Y/N looked down at the dark circles beneath Wanda's eyes, her tangled hair, and wrinkled clothes.

“…Liar.”

“I slept.”

“You closed your eyes,” Y/N murmured. “That's different.”

Wanda said nothing.

“You stayed here.”

A small nod.

“The whole time?”

Another nod.

“You barely left.”

“…Only when Nat or Yelena made me.”

“Wanda...”

“I couldn't.” Her voice cracked. “What if you woke up and I wasn't here?”

Y/N's heart ached. She tightened her arm around Wanda despite the sharp protest from her ribs.

“Easy,” Wanda whispered.

Ignoring the pain, Y/N rested her cheek against Wanda's hair. “I'm awake now.”

“I know.”

“So now...” She kissed the top of Wanda's head. “…you need to sleep.”

“I'll sleep later.”

“No.”

Wanda looked up to find Y/N watching her with quiet determination.

“You took care of me. Now let me take care of you.”

Wanda smiled tiredly, cupping her cheek. “I'll let you... after you're recovered.”

Y/N opened her mouth. 

“No arguments.” Wanda glare softly.

“I wasn't—”

“You were about to.”

“…Maybe.”

“I've spent three days making sure you stayed alive. Now you stay in bed until you're healed.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “I don't like staying in bed.”

“I know.”

“I feel useless.”

“I know.”

“I can walk.”

“You can barely sit up.”

“…That's temporary.”

“It is. Until then...” Wanda kissed the tip of her nose. “…you're listening to me.”

“…You're bossy.”

“I learned from Natasha.”

Y/N laughed, immediately wincing as pain flared through her chest.

Wanda rested a hand gently against her side. “See?”

“I'm fine.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

“You just proved my point.”

Y/N sighed and settled deeper into the pillows, still holding Wanda close.

“…Then sleep here.”

Wanda blinked. “Here?”

“With me.”

“You need space to heal.”

“I need you.”

Silence settled between them as the words lingered in the air. A faint blush colored Wanda's cheeks.

“…Okay.”

She carefully lay beside Y/N on top of the blankets, mindful of every bandage. The bed was small, but neither cared. Wanda rested her head lightly against Y/N's shoulder while Y/N held her just tightly enough to keep her close.

“There.”

“There,” Y/N echoed.

For the first time in days, Wanda's body finally relaxed. The tension eased from her shoulders, and the fear that had kept her awake every time Y/N's breathing changed slowly melted away.

Y/N buried her face in Wanda's hair. “…Sleep.”

“I will.”

“You promise?”

A soft smile spread across Wanda's face.

“I promise.”

Within minutes, her breathing became slow and even. Y/N smiled faintly. It had taken nearly being torn apart for Wanda to finally rest. She pressed one last kiss to the top of Wanda's head before closing her own eyes—not to sleep, but simply to listen to Wanda's heartbeat.

A sound she would never take for granted again.

The number felt both impossibly far away and alarmingly close.

Lizzie sat on the examination bed, one hand resting beneath the curve of her stomach while the other held Y/N's. Her belly was large now—larger than either of them had expected at this stage—and every movement from the twins seemed determined to remind her they were running out of room.

Across from them, the ultrasound monitor glowed softly as the technician finished taking measurements.

"Both babies look great," she said with a smile. "Growth is right where we want it. Heartbeats are strong."

The familiar rush of relief settled over both women. Y/N squeezed Lizzie's hand once before letting go so the technician could finish. Thirty weeks meant they had become experts at these appointments. They knew the routine, knew the terminology, knew exactly how much they worried before every scan despite hearing good news nearly every time.

A few minutes later, they were seated in the doctor's office.

Dr. Ramirez reviewed the chart on her tablet before looking up. "Everything continues to look excellent. Your blood pressure is good, babies are growing well, and Baby A is still head down."

Lizzie smiled. "That's good."

"It is." The doctor glanced between them. "Any questions today?"

Y/N and Lizzie exchanged a look. There was one question they had been carrying around for weeks.

"Actually, yes," Lizzie said.

"Go ahead."

Lizzie rested both hands on her stomach. "I've always wanted a water birth."

The doctor didn't look surprised. "I know."

"But we're having twins," Lizzie continued. "Mo-di twins. We wanted to ask what you think."

The room became noticeably more serious. Dr. Ramirez set her tablet down.

"I'm glad you're asking now."

"We've read a lot of different things online," Y/N admitted.

The doctor gave a small sympathetic smile. "Which usually makes things more confusing."

"Very," Lizzie admitted.

That earned a soft laugh from all three of them.

Dr. Ramirez folded her hands together. "With a singleton pregnancy, assuming everything is healthy, I'm generally very supportive of water labor and water birth. Twins are a different conversation."

"Because of the risks?" Lizzie asked.

"Partly."

The doctor pulled up an image of the twins' latest scan. "Mo-di twins are already considered higher risk than singleton pregnancies because they share a placenta. So even when everything is going perfectly—as it is for you—we monitor more closely."

She pointed toward the image. "Baby A is head down right now, which is excellent. Baby B's position can still change after the first baby is born."

Y/N nodded. "So things can become unpredictable."

"Exactly." The doctor wasn't trying to scare them. Her tone remained calm and matter-of-fact. "After Twin A is delivered, we need to assess Twin B quickly. Sometimes everything proceeds smoothly. Sometimes Baby B changes position. Occasionally intervention becomes necessary."

Lizzie looked down at her stomach. "So a water birth isn't impossible?"

Dr. Ramirez considered her answer carefully. "I wouldn't say impossible. But I would say that many hospitals, including ours, don't offer water delivery for twin pregnancies."

Lizzie let out a small breath. Not disappointed exactly. Just processing.

The doctor continued, "Water labor is a different discussion. Laboring in water for pain management is often something we can still consider depending on how the pregnancy progresses and what things look like when labor starts."

That caught Lizzie's attention. "So I could still use the tub during labor?"

"Potentially, yes."

Y/N glanced toward Lizzie and saw some of the tension leave her shoulders.

The doctor smiled. "I know the water birth itself is important to you, but my priority is getting all three of you safely through delivery."

She looked back at the chart. "The good news is that right now everything looks excellent. My recommendation is that we keep monitoring week by week. Twin pregnancies can change quickly, especially in the third trimester."

Lizzie nodded slowly. "That makes sense."

The answer wasn't exactly what she had hoped for, but it wasn't a complete no either. More importantly, it was honest.

Y/N reached over and squeezed her knee. "We'll figure it out."

Lizzie looked at her and smiled. "Yeah."

They had already figured out so much together. This would be one more thing.

Dr. Ramirez stood. "I'd like to see you again next week."

"Next week?" Lizzie asked.

The appointments had been getting closer together.

The doctor nodded. "You're thirty weeks with mo-di twins. From here on out, we're watching things carefully. Everything is healthy, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Fair enough," Y/N said.

A few minutes later they were walking back through the parking lot. The summer air was warm. Lizzie moved slower these days, and Y/N automatically matched her pace without making a fuss about it.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Lizzie sighed. "So."

"So."

"No water birth."

"Not exactly."

Lizzie glanced at her.

Y/N opened the passenger door for her before leaning against it. "We can still ask around."

Lizzie paused halfway into the seat. "Hm?"

Y/N shrugged. "We got one opinion. A very qualified opinion."

"That's usually how doctors work."

A grin tugged at Y/N's lips. "I'm aware."

Lizzie smiled despite herself. "But?"

"But we can still talk to some birth centers. Maybe speak with a few midwives. See what their experiences are with twins."

Lizzie considered that. "You think it's worth it?"

"I think gathering information is worth it." Y/N crouched slightly beside the open door. "Maybe every answer is the same. Maybe they tell us exactly what Dr. Ramirez told us."

"And maybe they don't."

"Exactly."

Lizzie's shoulders relaxed. That was one thing she loved about Y/N. She never dismissed Lizzie's concerns, but she also never fueled them. She simply helped her work through them. Practical. Patient. Steady.

"Okay," Lizzie said. "I like that idea."

Y/N smiled. "Good."

She leaned into the car and pressed a soft kiss to Lizzie's lips. It was brief. Comfortable. The kind of kiss that came naturally after years together.

When they pulled apart, Lizzie was smiling. "Was that for agreeing with you?"

"Maybe."

"You just like hearing yourself being right."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lizzie snorted. "Sure."

Y/N stole one more quick kiss before finally stepping back. "Get comfortable, my love.”

Lizzie settled into the seat with exaggerated care. "I'm thirty weeks pregnant with twins. Comfortable is a myth."

"Fair point." Y/N closed the passenger door and walked around the front of the car. A few moments later, the engine started.

The drive home was peaceful. The radio played quietly in the background while the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows. Neither of them felt the need to fill every silence. After months away from work, they had both gotten used to slowing down. No interviews. No filming schedules. No concerts. No flights. Just doctor's appointments, nursery planning, and waiting for two little boys who already seemed determined to keep everyone on their toes.

About halfway home, Lizzie shifted in her seat.

Immediately, Y/N glanced over. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

A pause. "They're moving."

Y/N smiled without taking her eyes off the road. "Both of them?"

"I think so."

Lizzie rested her hands over her stomach. One side pushed outward. Then the other. It looked almost ridiculous.

Y/N laughed softly.

Another movement rolled across Lizzie stomach. Lizzie shook her head fondly. "I still can't believe there are two babies in there."

Y/N's expression softened. "I can."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Lizzie looked at her. Y/N kept her attention on the road.

"You've been carrying enough snacks for two babies since week twelve."

Lizzie gasped. "I have not."

"You absolutely have."

"I was hungry."

"You ate three grilled cheese sandwiches the other day.”

"It was a difficult day."

Y/N laughed as Lizzie tried—and failed—to maintain a serious expression.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, both of them were smiling as they were finally home. Their favorite place these days.

The moment they stepped inside, their golden retriever came rushing toward them, tail wagging furiously.

"Hey, buddy," Y/N greeted, bending to scratch behind his ears.

The dog immediately abandoned Y/N and went straight to Lizzie. Traitor.

Lizzie laughed as he carefully pressed his head against her leg. "At least somebody appreciates me."

"I appreciate you."

The dog looked up at Y/N.

Y/N pointed at him. "You know exactly what you're doing."

The dog wagged harder.

Lizzie shook her head. "Come on."

Together, they headed deeper into the house. The nursery door was open as they passed, and both of them automatically slowed. Inside sat two cribs. Two dressers. Stacks of tiny clothes. Two car seats waiting in their boxes. Proof that in just a few weeks, their babies would be here.

Lizzie slipped her hand into Y/N's. Neither spoke for a moment as they stood in the doorway, taking it all in. Then a hard kick landed against Lizzie’s ribs, making her wince.

Y/N immediately looked down. "Hey."

She crouched in front of her wife and gently placed both hands on the sides of her stomach. Another little kick landed beneath her palm.

Y/N smiled. "There’s my trouble maker.”

Lizzie watched fondly as Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the curve of her bump.

"Be gentle with Mommy, buddy." A second kiss. "She's carrying both of you." The room fell quiet as they waited few seconds, until nothing.

Y/N and Lizzie look at each other as they start laughing.

"Did they just listen to you?" Lizzie asked.

"I think they did."

"That's not fair."

Y/N grinned and rested her cheek against her stomach. "See? They respect me."

"They ignore me all day."

Another few seconds passed. Still no movement. Y/N looked suspiciously pleased with herself. 

"Oh, that's definitely going to your head." Lizzie scoff.

"It absolutely is." Y/N stood and wrapped an arm around Lizzie's waist. Carefully. Always carefully now. Not because Lizzie was fragile, but because there was so much more of her to love these days. Lizzie immediately melted into her side. The nursery around them seemed to fade away as they stood there together, simply enjoying the quiet.

Y/N kissed the top of her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Mm."

"My back hurts."

"Mm."

"My feet hurt."

"Mm."

Lizzie tilted her head back. "You're not very helpful."

Y/N smiled. "I know."

She guided Lizzie toward the rocking chair sitting in the corner of the nursery. "Come here."

Lizzie let herself be led without argument. The moment she sat down, she sighed dramatically. "Oh wow."

"Better?"

"Much."

Y/N settled onto the floor beside the chair, resting her arms across Lizzie's knees. The position looked ridiculous—a world-famous singer sitting on the floor of a nursery because her pregnant wife looked comfortable. Neither of them cared.

Lizzie threaded her fingers through Y/N's hair. For a while, neither spoke. The silence wasn't awkward. It never was. Y/N simply rested there while Lizzie played with her hair and watched the evening sunlight spill through the nursery window.

Eventually, Lizzie smiled softly. "You know..."

"Hm?"

"You're going to be such a good mom."

Y/N looked up. The compliment caught her off guard. "You think so?"

Lizzie stared at her like the answer should have been obvious. "I know so."

Something warm settled in Y/N's chest. There were still moments when the reality of becoming a parent felt overwhelming. Not scary. Just huge. Two babies. Two tiny humans depending on them for everything.

Lizzie brushed her thumb across Y/N's cheek. "Those boys are already obsessed with you."

Y/N laughed. "They haven't even met me yet."

"They hear your voice all day."

Another soft stroke across her cheek. “They calm down when you talk."

Y/N glanced toward the bump. "They're probably just tired of hearing me."

Lizzie smiled. "No." The answer came without hesitation. "No, they're not."

Y/N's expression softened. Neither said anything for a moment. Then Y/N carefully lifted Lizzie's hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. A simple gesture. One she had done hundreds of times before. Yet somehow it still made Lizzie's heart squeeze.

"I love you," Y/N said quietly.

Lizzie smiled immediately. "I love you too."

Another kiss to her palm. Then another to the back of her hand. "Good."

Lizzie laughed. "Good?"

"Good."

Y/N rested her forehead against her knee. "Because we're getting really outnumbered soon."

A soft laugh escaped Lizzie. "Two against two."

"No." Y/N looked at her bump. “You three against me.”

“Why’s that?” Lizzie whisper as she brush her fingers through Y/N hair again.

“Because they will soon realize how weak I am for the three of you.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but she still pull Y/n up for a kiss. 

The nursery remained calm, and for a little while neither woman worried about birth plans, doctor appointments, or the weeks still ahead. There was only this—a quiet evening, a nursery waiting for two little boys, and the growing certainty that they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

---

The weeks passed faster than either of them expected.

Thirty-one weeks became thirty-two. Thirty-two became thirty-four. Before they knew it, Lizzie's due date no longer felt far away. True to their word, they gathered opinions. A lot of opinions.

Some doctors were hesitant the moment they heard "mo-di twins." Some immediately recommended a hospital birth. Others were more open to discussing alternatives. Several experienced midwives sat down with them and patiently walked through every scenario imaginable.

The conversations weren't always easy.

Y/N took notes. Lots of notes.

Lizzie eventually banned her from bringing a second notebook.

"You don't need a notebook for your notebook."

"I absolutely do."

"No."

"Organization is important."

"You're nesting."

"I am researching."

"You color-coded the tabs."

"They're different topics."

Most of the midwives agreed on one thing: a water birth with twins wasn't automatically impossible. It simply required the right circumstances, careful monitoring, and a willingness to change plans if anything stopped looking safe.

That last part became especially important to both of them. The more information they gathered, the more they realized that no birth plan was guaranteed. The goal wasn't a perfect birth. The goal was bringing the babies safely into the world.

One evening, they called their mothers.

Jarnette listened patiently while Lizzie explained everything they'd learned. When she finished, there was a brief pause.

"Honey, when I had you and your sisters, water births weren't really something people talked about."

Lizzie laughed. "That's what I figured."

"But if you've done your research and your medical team believes it's safe, then trust that."

Across the room, Y/N nodded. It was almost exactly what they expected her to say.

A few days later, Y/N's mother gave nearly the same answer. Melissa sat at the kitchen island while Y/N made tea. "You're asking the wrong generation."

Y/N laughed. “Mama J said the same thing.”

"We didn't have nearly as many options." Melissa softened. "But you've spoken to specialists, doctors, and midwives."

"We have."

"And?"

Y/N glanced toward the living room where Lizzie was stretched across the couch with her feet elevated.

"They think it can be done if everything continues to go well."

Melissa nodded. "Then trust the people helping you."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. "What if something changes?"

"It might." The answer came easily. "And if it does, you'll adapt."

That sounded frustratingly reasonable. Which meant it was probably true.

By thirty-six weeks, the decision had finally been made.

They would proceed with the birth center and water birth plan—but only if the pregnancy remained uncomplicated, both babies continued doing well, and everyone involved felt comfortable when labor actually started. There would be no stubbornness. Not forcing a plan simply because it was the plan.

Safety first. Everything else second.

Oddly enough, making that decision lifted a weight off both of their shoulders. The uncertainty was gone.

One night, after another appointment confirmed that both babies were thriving, Lizzie was curled against Y/N on the couch. Her head rested on Y/N's shoulder while one of Y/N's hands absentmindedly rubbed slow circles over her belly.

The nursery was finished. Hospital bags were packed just in case. The car seats were installed.

Everything was ready.

Or as ready as two first-time parents could possibly be.

"You realize," Lizzie said softly, "that they're actually coming."

Y/N looked down at her. "That's generally how pregnancy works."

Lizzie pinched her side.

Y/N laughed.

"You know what I mean."

"I do."

Silence settled between them—comfortable and warm. A tiny foot pushed outward beneath Y/N's hand, then another.

Y/N smiled. "They're running out of room."

"No kidding." Lizzie roll her eyes.

Another kick landed, this one strong enough for both women to see it.

Y/N stared. Every single time it happened, she looked amazed, as though she still couldn't quite believe there were two little boys in there.

Lizzie watched her expression and smiled. "What?"

Y/N shook her head, eyes still fixed on the bump. "Nothing."

"Y/N."

She paused—a rare thing these days. "I'm excited to meet them."

The quiet honesty of it made Lizzie's chest ache. Y/N wasn't usually the emotional one. Steady? Always. Patient? Definitely. But openly vulnerable? Less often.

Lizzie reached up and cupped her cheek. "You will."

Y/N leaned into the touch immediately, a small smile appearing.

"Hopefully not tonight."

"Definitely not tonight."

---

A Week Later

It wasn't that night, but a week later.

Thirty-seven weeks.

The house was quiet. Y/N stood in the kitchen making popcorn while Lizzie rested on the couch in the living room. Their movie choices had become increasingly questionable over the last few weeks, but neither of them cared. The point wasn't the movie. The point was spending another quiet evening together before Ethan and Liam arrived.

The popcorn popped loudly. Y/N hummed to herself while reaching for a bowl.

"Baby?" Lizzie's voice carried from the living room.

"Yeah?" Y/N called back, still working.

A few seconds later—

"Baby!"

The second call was different. Urgent.

Y/N immediately dropped what she was doing and ran into the living room.

"Liz?"

She found Lizzie leaning forward on the couch, one hand gripping the cushion while the other rubbed beneath her stomach. Her face tightened.

Y/N froze.

“What—”

Lizzie took a slow breath. "I think it's time."

Y/N stared.

Time.

The babies.

Labor.

Now.

Her brain completely stopped functioning.

Another wave of discomfort crossed Lizzie's face as she rubbed her lower bump.

"Baby!”

Y/N blinked.

“Right! …I’ll call the midwife."

She spun around so fast she nearly ran into the coffee table.

Behind her, Lizzie laughed despite herself. "You practiced for this."

"I know."

"You made checklists."

"I know."

"You literally have a labor binder."

"I know!"

Y/N finally found her phone.

The midwife answered after a few rings. As Y/N explained what was happening, she dropped beside Lizzie on the couch and reached for her hand. The conversation was surprisingly calm—very unlike Y/N.

The midwife asked questions. How intense were the contractions? How long were they lasting? How far apart? Y/N timed the next one carefully. Then the next.

When the call ended, she looked at Lizzie. "They're still really far apart."

Lizzie nodded. "That's what it feels like."

"The midwife says early labor can take a while."

"How long?"

Y/N hesitated.

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "How long?"

"Potentially hours."

Lizzie groaned. "Oh no."

"Or longer."

"Baby."

"I'm just repeating what she said."

Lizzie dropped her head back against the couch.

Y/N couldn't help smiling. The panic had faded now that there was something concrete to do. The babies weren't arriving immediately. The midwives weren't rushing over yet. Everything was progressing normally.

Another contraction came almost twenty minutes later. Y/N immediately started timing it. The moment it ended, she wrote it down.

Lizzie watched. "You brought the labor binder."

Y/N looked up. "...Maybe."

"You're actually using it."

"That's what it's for."

"You are such a nerd."

Y/N kissed her forehead. "And yet you married me."

“Yes, I did.”

Y/N smiled and settled beside her.

For a while they simply sat together. The contractions came and went, still manageable, still spaced far apart. Enough to confirm labor had started, but not enough to send the house into chaos.

At first, it wasn't too bad. Lizzie stayed curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach whenever a contraction came. They were uncomfortable but manageable. The twins continued moving between contractions, occasionally making the already-tight space inside her belly shift visibly.

Y/N never strayed far. Every few minutes she glanced at the timer, or at Lizzie, or both. Mostly both.

As the evening stretched on, however, the contractions slowly changed. Not dramatically. Just enough. They came a little closer together, lasted a little longer, and demanded a little more attention. Conversations between contractions remained easy enough, but when the pain hit, Lizzie was becoming quieter. More focused.

Y/N noticed immediately.

A contraction rolled through and Lizzie stopped talking mid-sentence, closing her eyes as she breathed through it. Y/N was beside her before she even realized she'd moved, one hand rubbing her back and the other holding her hand.

The moment it passed, Lizzie relaxed again.

"Better?"

"For now."

Y/N kissed her temple. For now was enough.

At some point, she sent messages to both sides of the family.

Lizzie is in Labor. Everything is okay. Contractions still far apart. We'll keep everyone updated.

The responses came almost immediately—excited, panicked, emotional. Somehow all at once. Y/N ignored most of them. She had more important things to focus on. Namely her wife.

About an hour after the contractions first began, the doorbell rang. Y/N looked up. Lizzie was in the middle of another contraction, so she squeezed her hand until it calmed down before standing.

"I'll get it."

When she opened the door, she found Jarnette standing on the porch with a large tote bag hanging from one shoulder.

"How's my girl?"

Y/N smiled. “Managing.”

Jarnette laughed softly. “That’s good."

The moment she stepped inside, the house somehow felt calmer. Not because Y/N was panicking. She absolutely wasn't panicking. Mostly.

But Jarnette had the kind of presence that made everything feel manageable.

She moved straight toward the couch. "My baby."

Lizzie immediately smiled. "Mom."

Jarnette leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"How are you doing?"

"Tired already."

"Oh, sweetheart."

Another contraction started, and Jarnette instantly shifted gears. One hand moved to Lizzie's shoulder while Y/N settled onto the other side. Together they helped her through it—breathing, waiting, talking her through it.

When it ended, Lizzie let out a slow breath.

Jarnette looked between them. "You two ready to become parents?"

Y/N and Lizzie looked at each other. Then both women burst out laughing.

"No," they answered together.

Jarnette laughed too. "Good."

"What do you mean good?" Lizzie asked.

"It means you're normal."

She sat down in the armchair nearby. "No one is ready."

That was probably true. The nursery was ready. The birth pool supplies were ready. The diapers were ready. The car seats were ready. The tiny clothes were washed and folded. But becoming parents?

Nothing could really prepare someone for that.

Another contraction came. This one noticeably stronger. Lizzie grabbed Y/N's hand. Hard.

Y/N didn't flinch. Instead, she lifted Lizzie's hand and kissed her knuckles.

"You're doing great."

Lizzie opened one eye. "You say that every contraction."

"Because you're doing great every contraction."

From across the room, Jarnette smiled quietly as she watched them. Watched the way Y/N never let go of Lizzie's hand. Watching the way Lizzie automatically leaned toward her whenever the pain increased. Watching the two of them face labor the same way they'd faced everything else. Together.

As the evening continued, the contractions gradually settled into a more consistent rhythm. Seven minutes apart. Then another seven minutes. Then another. By then, the atmosphere inside the house had shifted. Not chaotic. Focused. Purposeful.

The call was made, and before long the midwives arrived.

Y/N opened the door to find two women carrying bags and equipment. They entered with calm smiles and reassuring voices that immediately put everyone at ease.

"How's our mom doing?"

"Still talking," Y/N replied.

One of the midwives laughed. "That's usually a good sign."

While one stayed with Lizzie in the living room, the other began setting up in the guest room upstairs where they planned for labor and delivery. The birth pool equipment was unpacked. Supplies were organized. Towels appeared seemingly from nowhere. Everything began falling into place.

For the first time, Y/N realized this wasn't preparation anymore. This was actually happening.

A contraction interrupted her thoughts. Lizzie gripped the arm of the couch and lowered her head while Y/N was immediately beside her. The midwife quietly timed it.

When it ended, she smiled gently. "I think it’s time for you to move upstairs, Ms. Olsen-Y/F/N.”

Lizzie nodded. "Okay." Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. For a few steps everything seemed fine.

Then they reached the staircase. Halfway to the first step, another contraction slammed into her.

"Oh." Lizzie froze, both hands immediately finding her stomach. She couldn't move. Couldn't climb. Couldn't do much except focus on breathing through it.

Y/N's expression changed instantly. Without hesitation, she slipped one arm beneath Lizzie's knees and the other behind her back.

"Baby—"

Before Lizzie could finish, Y/N lifted her completely off the ground like she weighed nothing.

The midwives exchanged amused looks.

Lizzie let out a surprised laugh despite the contraction. "Y/N."

"What?"

"I can walk."

"Not currently. And you don’t have to. You have me.“

The contraction finally eased.

Y/N adjusted her hold. "You tell me when you want down."

Lizzie rested her forehead against Y/N's shoulder. "I don't want down."

"That's what I thought."

Jarnette laughed from behind them.

Y/N carried her all the way upstairs. The room looked entirely different now. Soft lighting. Supplies neatly arranged. The partially prepared birth pool taking up one side of the room. It felt strange seeing the space transformed into the place where Ethan and Liam would arrive.

The midwife guided Lizzie toward a large balance ball. "Let's try this."

Lizzie lowered herself onto it carefully and immediately let out a relieved breath. "Oh."

The midwife smiled. "Better?"

"A little."

"Good."

The gentle motion of the ball allowed her hips to move naturally. The discomfort didn't disappear, but it became easier to manage.

Y/N crouched in front of her, exactly where she'd been spending most of the evening. One hand rested on Lizzie's knee while the other rubbed slow circles over her thigh.

Whenever a contraction came, Lizzie automatically reached for her.

And every time, Y/N was there.

A stronger contraction built. Lizzie's fingers tightened around Y/N's. The change was impossible to miss now. The contractions were no longer uncomfortable. They hurt. A lot.

Lizzie leaned forward on the balance ball until her forehead rested against Y/N's shoulder. A low moan escaped her as the contraction peaked, and Y/N immediately wrapped both arms around her.

"I've got you."

Lizzie nodded weakly. Another breath. Then another.

Y/N stayed exactly where she was—steady, patient, one hand rubbing slow circles along Lizzie's back while the other remained tangled with hers.

The contraction finally eased. For a few precious moments, Lizzie relaxed, only for another one to begin several minutes later. And this one was stronger.

"Oh God..."

Y/N was already moving. The midwives had shown her several counter-pressure techniques earlier in the pregnancy, and now she put every one of them to use. As the contraction intensified, she pressed firmly against Lizzie's lower back.

Immediately, Lizzie let out a relieved sound.

"That helps."

Y/N adjusted her hands. "Tell me if you need more pressure."

"A little more."

Y/N nodded and pressed harder. The effect was almost immediate. Not removing the pain. Just making it manageable. Bearable.

The hours seemed to blur together after that.

Contraction.

Breathing.

Rest.

Then another contraction.

Jarnette came and went quietly, bringing water and encouragement whenever Lizzie wanted it. The midwives continued monitoring both babies, checking heartbeats, watching labor progress, and keeping everything calm and safe.

The contractions became stronger. Longer. Closer together. Each one demanding more focus than the last. By now, Lizzie spent most of them with her eyes closed, forehead pressed against Y/N's shoulder while Y/N supported her weight.

At one point, a particularly powerful contraction hit. Lizzie buried her face against Y/N's neck and groaned.

Y/N's heart clenched. Not because she was worried. Because she hated seeing her in pain. Even knowing it was part of the process. Even knowing everything was progressing normally. 

She kissed the side of Lizzie's head. "You are doing so good."

Lizzie laughed weakly between breaths. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

Another contraction interrupted any further argument. Eventually, one of the midwives approached.

"Let's check where we're at."

Lizzie nodded.

A few minutes later, the midwife smiled.

"What?" Y/N asked.

The midwife looked at Lizzie.

"I think it's time to get into the water."

The birth pool had been filling for a while now, warm water gently rippling beneath the soft lighting of the room. Y/N stood first and offered both hands.

"Come on, my love.”

Slowly, carefully, Lizzie rose to her feet. The next contraction wasn't far away, but there was enough time.

Y/N helped her remove the loose labor gown she'd been wearing, while the midwives checked the water temperature one final time. Then nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

Y/N wrapped an arm around Lizzie's waist, and together they moved toward the pool. Another contraction threatened to start, and Lizzie leaned heavily into her.

"I've got you."

"I know." The answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Because Wanda knew Y/N did. Always.

With Y/N's help, Lizzie carefully stepped into the pool. The warm water reached her legs first, then her hips, then her stomach. A relieved sigh escaped her almost instantly.

"Oh..."

Y/N smiled. "Better?"

"So much better."

Slowly, Lizzie lowered herself into the water. The buoyancy immediately eased some of the pressure she'd been carrying for weeks. For the first time all night, her shoulders visibly relaxed.

Y/N knelt beside the pool, one arm draped over the edge, never more than a few inches away. Lizzie reached for her hand immediately, their fingers intertwining.

Another contraction began. But this time, surrounded by warm water and supported by Y/N's steady presence, Lizzie seemed calmer. More grounded.

Everything was progressing beautifully.

And somewhere beneath the water, Ethan and Liam continued their journey toward the world, growing closer to meeting their mothers with every passing minute.

---

An Hour Later

Y/N’s POV

Lizzie's fingers were tangled in the back of your shirt.

Every contraction pulled another sound from her—a groan, a shaky breath, sometimes your name. Every time it happened, you stayed right there. One hand in hers. The other smoothing damp hair away from her face.

It’s been hours since it all started. You honestly weren't sure how many anymore. Time had become contractions. Breaths. Heartbeats. And Lizzie.

Another contraction hit, and Lizzie immediately grabbed the back of your shirt, pulling you closer until your forehead bumped against hers. Her eyes squeezed shut.

"Baby..."

"I'm here." You kissed her forehead. "I'm right here."

The contraction finally eased, and for a moment the room settled.

One of the midwives moved closer. She performed another check, then looked up. A smile spread across her face.

"Lizzie."

Lizzie looked at her through exhausted eyes.

"You're fully dilated."

The room went silent. For a second, nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Then the words finally registered.

Fully dilated. Ready. The babies were coming.

A strange mix of excitement and terror exploded in your chest.

The midwife looked at Lizzie. “Your water broke a while ago. Everything looks good." Then she smiled. "When you're ready, it's time to start pushing."

Lizzie let out a nervous laugh. "Oh God."

You squeezed her hand. “You’ve got this."

Another contraction began building. Before it fully arrived, you looked at the midwife.

"Can I get in with her?"

"Of course."

You didn't waste a second. The next thing you knew, your shorts were abandoned on a nearby chair and you were carefully climbing into the warm water wearing only your shirt and boxers. Immediately you moved behind Lizzie.

She practically melted against you. Exhausted. Heavy. Trusting you to hold her up.

Your legs settled on either side of her while your arms wrapped securely around her waist. Lizzie grabbed both of your hands immediately, holding them tightly in front of her like armrests as the midwives helped adjust her position.

"There you go."

Another contraction rolled through. Lizzie groaned and squeezed your hands so hard it almost hurt.

You didn't care. "That's it, my love.”

Her head fell back against your shoulder.

The midwife knelt beside the pool. "With the next contraction, listen to your body."

Lizzie nodded weakly.

"You don't have to force anything."

Another nod.

The room grew quiet. Focused. Everyone waiting. Everyone watching. Then the next contraction arrived. A strong one.

Lizzie's entire body tensed.

The midwife smiled encouragingly. "Okay, Lizzie. You can push whenever you're ready."

You felt Lizzie grip your hands tighter. She took a breath. Then another.

You pressed a kiss against her temple. "You've got this."

A shaky breath escaped her. "I don't know if I do."

You tightened your arms around her. “You do, my love.” Another kiss against her hair. "You do."

The contraction built higher, and the moment had finally arrived.

For the first time all night, the reality hit you with full force. In a matter of minutes—or maybe longer, who knew anymore—you were going to meet Ethan and Liam.

Your sons.

The thought stole your breath. But there wasn't time to dwell on it. Because Lizzie squeezed your hands again. The contraction peaked. And with you holding her securely against your chest, she began to push.

The room seemed to narrow around a single moment. The warm water. Lizzie in your arms. The steady voices of the midwives. And the contractions.

Everything else faded away.

Lizzie pushed with the next contraction. Not rushed. Not forced. Just following her body's lead. You felt her tense against your chest before relaxing again as it passed.

"Good," one of the midwives encouraged. "That's exactly what we want."

Lizzie nodded, breathing hard. Her hair was damp against your shoulder, her hands still gripping yours tightly.

The next contraction came. Then another. Each one bringing the baby lower. Closer.

At one point, Lizzie buried her face against your shoulder. "I can't do this."

The words came out exhausted. Raw. You immediately kissed her temple. "You can, my love. I know you can.”

A shaky laugh escaped her. Then another contraction arrived. The midwife's voice brightened. "That's it, Lizzie." Another push."Perfect." Another. "Beautiful."

You could hear the excitement growing now, the kind that made your own heart start hammering. The midwife smiled. "Oh yes. I can see the head.“

You looked up immediately. "What?"

She glanced toward you briefly. "Your baby's almost here."

The words stole every bit of air from your lungs. Almost here. You tightened your arms around Lizzie. She nodded weakly.

Another contraction built. Strong and powerful. The strongest yet.

The midwife leaned forward. "Okay, Lizzie. This is a really good one."

Lizzie took a breath. Then another.

You pressed your lips against her ears. "I love you."

Tears immediately gathered in her eyes. "I love you too."

The contraction peaked and Lizzie pushed.

The room filled with encouragement.

"That's it."

"Keep going."

"Perfect."

You felt her trembling in your arms. Felt every ounce of effort she was giving.

Then suddenly—The midwife's hands moved. A tiny body emerged beneath the water.

For one suspended second, the baby remained completely submerged. Then, with practiced movements, the midwife gently lifted him upward out of the water. And immediately onto Lizzie's chest.

A loud gasp escaped Lizzie. Relief. Shock. Disbelief. All at once.

"Oh my God."

The tiny baby lay against her skin. Wet, warm, and real.

So incredibly real.

For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Then the baby let out his first cry. The sound filled the room.

Beautiful. Perfect. Alive.

Tears instantly spilled down Lizzie's cheeks. "Oh my God..."

Her hands shook as she touched him.

You couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't look away. The little boy wriggled weakly against his mother's chest, announcing his arrival to the entire world. And suddenly everything changed.

The months of waiting. The appointments. The nursery. The fears. The excitement. Every single moment had led to this. You rested your cheek against Lizzie's hair and stared at your son.

Your son.

The realization hit harder than anything else had that night.

Lizzie was crying openly now, laughing and crying at the same time. The baby cried again—a strong sound, a healthy sound.

One of the midwives smiled. "Hello, little one."

Neither you nor Lizzie answered. Neither of you could. Because for the first time, you were looking at one of the tiny boys you had already loved for months.

And he was finally here.

For a few precious seconds, the world seemed to stop.

The baby lay against Lizzie's chest, tiny and perfect. His cries filled the room while Lizzie stared at him through tears, completely overwhelmed and completely in love.

You could barely look anywhere else.

Then Lizzie turned her head toward you. Her eyes met yours. A thousand emotions passed between you in a single glance.

Slowly, she looked back down at the baby. "Ethan," she whispered.

The name hit you right in the chest.

Ethan. Your son. The little boy you'd been talking to for months. Tears immediately blurred your vision.

"Ethan," you repeated softly.

But the moment didn't last long. A fresh contraction rolled through Lizzie. Her entire body tensed. The relief on her face vanished as she let out a low moan.

You immediately tightened your hold around her.

The midwives moved closer. One of them smiled reassuringly. "That's perfect."

You looked up.

"The second baby is ready."

Right. There’s still one more baby.

One of the midwives carefully supported Ethan, keeping him safe while remaining mindful of the umbilical cords because of the shared placenta. Everything remained calm. Controlled. Exactly as they had planned for.

Lizzie took several shaky breaths. Exhaustion showed on every inch of her face. Yet determination remained. The same determination that had carried her through months of pregnancy. Through labor. Through Ethan's birth.

Another contraction arrived. Lizzie leaned back against your chest.

You pressed a kiss into her damp hair. "You're doing amazing."

She laughed weakly. "Baby, shut up."

Despite everything, a smile immediately pulled at your lips. You leaned forward and kissed her forehead again. "Sorry, my love." Another kiss. "Couldn't help myself."

Lizzie opened one eye as if she wanted to glare at you. Unfortunately, another contraction hit before she could. The expression vanished instantly. A pained moan escaped her, and her entire body tensed.

Your hands tightened around hers. "That's it," one of the midwives said gently. "Work with it."

Lizzie's head fell back against your shoulder. She was far beyond conversation now. Far beyond teasing. Everything she had was focused on one thing.

Bringing the second baby into the world.

You could feel how exhausted she was. Hours of labor. The birth of Ethan. And yet somehow she kept going. Another push. Another breath.

The midwife checked again. "Perfect, Lizzie."

You pressed a kiss against her temple. "So proud of you." This time there was no sarcastic response. No eye roll. Nothing. Just another low groan as the contraction intensified.

The room remained calm. Focused.

Ethan let out a tiny cry from where the midwife was carefully supporting him. The sound made your heart squeeze.

Another contraction built. "Okay," the midwife encouraged. "This is a good one."

Lizzie nodded weakly. Then pushed.

You felt her grip your hands so tightly your fingers protested. But you didn't care. She could break every bone in them if she wanted. You would happily offer the other hand too.

"That's it."

The midwife smiled. "Beautiful."

Lizzie pushed again. Then again. The room seemed to hold its breath. The midwife's expression brightened. "Oh, here he comes.”

Your heart immediately jumped.

The next contraction arrived quickly. Lizzie buried her face against your shoulder and pushed with everything she had left. The encouragement around the room grew louder.

"Perfect."

"That's it."

"Keep going."

You felt tears prick your eyes. Not from fear. Just from watching her. Watching the woman you loved do something incredible.

Then the midwife looked up, a huge smile on her face. "I can see him."

The words hit you like a freight train. You immediately kissed Lizzie's hair. "Almost there, my love.”

Lizzie nodded against your shoulder. One more contraction was already beginning. You felt it before she even said anything. Her entire body tensed. Her fingers tightened around yours.

Then a broken moan escaped her lips. The strongest one yet. "Oh God—"

You immediately pressed your cheek against her hair. "I've got you."

The midwives leaned forward. Everyone in the room focused on the same thing. The final push. Lizzie took a shaky breath. Then another. You could feel how exhausted she was. How much she had already given. But somehow she found more.

The contraction peaked. And Lizzie pushed one last time. The room erupted.

"That's it!"

"Perfect!"

"Keep going!"

You held her tightly against your chest as she gave everything she had left. Then suddenly—Relief. The tension left her body all at once.

The midwife's face lit up. "There he is."

For one suspended heartbeat, the world stopped. Then the second baby emerged into the water. Tiny. Perfect.

And immediately, just like his brother, he was gently lifted from the water. A loud cry followed almost instantly. Strong. The sound hit you straight in the heart. The midwife carefully brought him forward, placing him against Lizzie's chest beside Ethan.

Lizzie gasped. Not from pain this time. From pure disbelief. Two babies. Two tiny boys. Both of them finally here. Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around them, one on each side.

Ethan squirmed.

The second baby cried loudly beside him.

For a moment, Lizzie simply stared. Unable to look away. Unable to fully process what she was seeing. Then tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "Oh my God. My babies.”

You couldn't speak either. Not because you didn't want to. Because the moment you saw both boys together on Lizzie's chest, something inside you completely broke. A sob escaped before you could stop it. You immediately buried your face against Lizzie's shoulder. Crying. Full-on sobbing.

Months of worry. Months of excitement. Months of imagining this moment. All of it came crashing down at once.

Lizzie laughed through her own tears. A tired, emotional laugh.

"Baby..."

You shook your head against her shoulder, unable to answer. Another sob escaped. Your arms tightened around both her and the boys. Careful. Protective.

As though you wanted to hold your entire family at once.

"Baby." Lizzie's voice was softer this time.

You finally lifted your head. Your face was a disaster. Tears everywhere.

Lizzie looked exhausted. Beautiful. Completely overwhelmed. And somehow still smiling at you. You looked down at Ethan and Liam one more time before your gaze returned to her. The woman who had just spent hours in labor. The woman who had carried your sons for nine months. The woman who had just brought them into the world.

Your throat tightened again. Fresh tears immediately gathering.

Lizzie's eyes softened. "What’s” wrong, baby?”

You shook your head, unable to stop staring at her. "Thank you." The words came out broken. Raw. Completely sincere. "Thank you."

Lizzie immediately started crying again.

You laughed weakly, then cupped her cheek. "You are amazing."

She shook her head. "No."

"Yes." Another tear rolled down your face. "Absolutely yes." You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against hers. "I love you so much."

Lizzie's eyes closed.

For a moment, it was just the two of you. And the boys between you.

Then one of the midwives approached gently. "Okay, moms." The word made both of you smile immediately.

The midwife smiled back. "We need to take care of a few things now."

You nodded.

The babies had remained attached while everyone settled and enjoyed those first moments together. Now it was time.

The cords were clamped. The final connection from pregnancy to the outside world. You and Lizzie watched through blurry eyes as the midwives carefully handled everything. Neither of you said much. Neither of you could.

Soon after, Ethan and Liam were carefully taken to be cleaned, weighed, and assessed nearby. Not far. Still within sight. The moment the babies left her chest, Lizzie visibly missed them.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her. "I know."

Her head dropped against your shoulder. "So weird."

"I know."

The room quieted again.

The next stage wasn't nearly as dramatic. The placenta still needed to be delivered. The midwives continued monitoring blood loss and checking on Lizzie while making sure everything looked exactly as it should. And thankfully, it did. Everything continued beautifully.

So for the next half hour, you stayed exactly where you had been all night—holding her, supporting her, keeping her warm, keeping her close.

At some point, Lizzie had practically fallen asleep against your chest. Exhaustion finally catching up to her.

You didn't blame her. Not even a little.

When the midwives eventually confirmed she could get out of the water, you stood carefully. Then immediately reached for her. Lizzie tried to stand but immediately reconsidered.

“Mm...”

You smiled. "Yeah."

"My legs don't work."

"They've had a long day."

A very long day. Without another word, you scooped her into your arms. Lizzie didn't even pretend to protest. She simply wrapped her arms around your neck and rested her head against your shoulder. Completely done.

The midwife led the way toward the bathroom. There she explained how Lizzie should rinse off and what to expect over the next several hours. Once she was satisfied everything was understood, she left the two of you alone.

The bathroom became quiet. Peaceful. Steam slowly filling the room. You helped Lizzie out of what remained of her clothing, then removed your own soaked shirt and boxers. For several minutes, neither of you spoke. You simply helped her wash away the long night. Careful. Supporting her whenever she swayed. Making sure the water stayed warm. Making sure she didn't have to do anything herself.

Lizzie watched you through tired eyes. At one point, she reached up and touched your cheek.

"What?"

She smiled softly. "Nothing."

You leaned down and kissed her forehead. Everything felt softer now. Slower. The storm had passed. The boys were here. Everyone was safe and nothing else mattered.

Eventually, once she was clean and wrapped in fresh clothes, you carried her again. Straight to the master bedroom. The room looked almost exactly the same as it had that morning. And yet completely different.

Because now there were four people in the family instead of two.

You carefully lowered Lizzie onto the bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she sighed. A deep, exhausted sigh. You sat beside her immediately, one hand finding hers. Not letting go.

Lizzie turned her head toward you. Her eyes were already drifting closed. "You okay?"

The question made you laugh. A watery laugh. "You just had twins, Liz.”

"And?"

"And you're asking if I'm okay?"

A sleepy smile appeared on her face. You leaned down and kissed her forehead. Then her cheek. Then the corner of her mouth.

"I'm more than okay." Your voice cracked. Because the truth was simple. Your wife was safe. Your sons were safe. And somewhere down the hall, two tiny newborn boys were waiting to be brought to their mothers.

As if summoned by the thought, a soft knock came from the bedroom door. One of the midwives entered. And in her arms—

Your heart immediately stopped. The boys. Both of them wrapped tightly in soft blankets. So small. So unbelievably small. "They're ready for mom."

Lizzie immediately pushed herself up a little, ignoring the fact that she had very recently delivered twins. The midwife laughed. "Easy there."

But she carefully settled Ethan into Lizzie's arms. Then Liam.

The moment both boys were resting against her chest, the entire room seemed to soften. Lizzie looked down and completely melted. “Hi.” She whispered as tears instantly gathered again.

Ethan stretched one tiny arm and Liam yawned. Lizzie looked like she might cry herself into another dimension.

You sat beside her on the bed, one hand rubbing slow circles across her back, unable to stop smiling. Unable to stop staring. The twins looked so tiny against her.

So peaceful. So perfect.

Minutes passed. Nobody felt any need to fill the silence. The room remained quiet except for the occasional newborn noise—tiny squeaks, little grunts, sounds that somehow already felt familiar.

Then Lizzie looked up. Her eyes found yours. "You want to hold them?"

You blinked. "What?"

"The boys."

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. For the first time all night, you looked genuinely nervous.

Lizzie immediately smiled. "Baby."

"What if I do it wrong?"

The midwife laughed. "You won't."

You looked down at the twins. Then back at Lizzie. Then back at the twins.

Lizzie's smile softened. "They're your boys too."

That completely destroyed whatever resistance remained. You let out a shaky breath. "Okay."

The midwife immediately moved into action. A large comfortable chair sat beside the bed. You settled into it carefully, suddenly feeling far more nervous than you had while helping deliver two babies.

"You're doing great," Lizzie teased.

"Don't start."

She laughed.

The midwife helped position your arms, then carefully transferred Ethan first. Your breath caught. Immediately. The tiny baby settled against your chest, warm and real. You froze completely. The room could have exploded and you wouldn't have noticed.

"Oh."

That was all you managed.

The midwife smiled. "Ready for number two?"

You nodded, unable to look away from Ethan.

A moment later Liam joined his brother. Now both babies rested against your chest. One tucked beneath each arm. Tiny heads against your shirt. Tiny bodies rising and falling with each breath. And suddenly the room became very blurry.

You hadn't even noticed the tears starting again.

"Oh no," Lizzie whispered.

You looked up. She was crying too. Hard this time.

"Why are you crying?"

The question came out between your own tears.

Lizzie laughed through hers. "Look at you."

"What?"

"Look at you." You looked down. At Ethan. At Liam. At the two little boys sleeping against your chest as if they belonged there. As if that spot had been waiting for them all along.

Your throat tightened. The babies looked impossibly safe. Impossibly loved. You kissed the top of Ethan's head. Then Liam's. Carefully. Still terrified you might somehow break them.

"They're so small."

Lizzie laughed. "They were literally just born."

"I know."

"They're supposed to be small."

You shook your head, still staring, unable to look anywhere else. Lizzie watched from the bed, tears still occasionally slipping down her cheeks. And you sat in the chair holding both of your sons against your chest. Completely captivated, overwhelmed, and completely in love.

---

No one’s POV

Before Lizzie fell asleep, there was one more important thing to do.

The boys needed to eat.

The midwife helped arrange pillows around Lizzie while she rested against the headboard of the bed. She looked exhausted—completely and utterly exhausted—but the moment Ethan was placed in her arms, some new source of energy seemed to appear.

Y/N sat beside her holding Liam. The baby fit entirely against her chest.

It was ridiculous how terrified she was. Y/N had spent years performing in front of thousands of people without fear. Now she was terrified of moving too quickly because a seven-pound human was sleeping against her.

The midwife smiled knowingly. "Ready?"

Lizzie nodded. The first feeding took a little patience. Ethan was awake. Very awake. The moment he was brought close, he immediately began rooting around.

Y/N laughed softly. "Oh, so he's very hungry."

The midwife chuckled. "That usually means he's figuring it out."

Lizzie looked down nervously. "Am I doing this right?"

"You're doing great." The midwife adjusted Ethan slightly. A moment later, he latched.

Lizzie gasped. Not from pain. From surprise.

"Oh."

Y/N immediately looked over. "What? Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just a little weird.”

The words came out sounding almost offended. As if she hadn't expected the tiny newborn to know what he was doing.

The midwife laughed. "Ethan seems very motivated."

That earned a sleepy laugh from Lizzie.

Y/N watched the scene quietly. Her wife. Their son. The first feeding. Another one of those moments that would never happen again for the first time. A strange ache settled in her chest. The good kind. The kind that came from realizing how lucky she was.

After a while, Ethan's feeding slowed. The midwife checked him. Satisfied.

Then it was Liam's turn. Y/N carefully passed him over. Immediately she noticed the difference. Ethan had attacked the situation like it was a competitive sport.

Liam blinked sleepily. Yawned. Then seemed to contemplate whether eating was really necessary. The entire room laughed.

"He's thinking about it," Y/N said.

Lizzie smiled tiredly. "He gets that from you."

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

The midwife adjusted Liam gently. "Come on, little guy."

Liam seemed unconvinced. For several seconds he simply stared. Then finally decided food was, in fact, a good idea. The moment he latched successfully, the room practically celebrated.

"There we go."

Y/N immediately melted. "Oh my God." The tiny sounds Liam made while feeding nearly destroyed her.

Everything about him felt tiny. Tiny fingers. Tiny nose. Tiny breaths. Tiny little noises. At one point his hand escaped the blanket and rested against Lizzie. The sight hit Y/N so hard she had to look away for a second.

"Are you crying again?" Lizzie asked.

“No.”

"Baby." Lizzie reached over and squeezed Y/N's hand.

For several minutes, neither woman spoke. They simply watched. Watched their sons begin their very first meal.

Eventually Liam finished too. The midwife checked them over one more time before helping settle them comfortably. Only then did exhaustion finally win. Lizzie's eyes kept drifting closed. Her body sinking deeper into the pillows.

Y/N noticed immediately. "You need sleep."

Lizzie looked ready to argue. Then yawned. The argument died instantly.

Y/N smiled. “Sleep babe.”

A few minutes later, with the boys fed and content, Lizzie finally drifted off. One hand still resting where the twins had been. A small smile lingering on her face.

Y/N sat quietly beside the bed holding both boys. Watching her sleep. Watching them breathe.

Eventually, Y/N stood up with the boys secured in her arms. She looked toward Lizzie one more time. Her wife was completely asleep.

Y/N leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Lizzie's forehead.

"I love you."

Lizzie didn't wake. She just made a sleepy little sound, making Y/N smile. Then quietly slipped out of the bedroom.

The hallway was dimly lit. Peaceful. And waiting just outside the door sat Jarnette.

The moment she saw Y/N emerge, she stood immediately. "How is she?"

Y/N glanced back toward the closed door. "Sleeping."

Relief flooded Jarnette's face. "Good."

"She finally crashed."

Jarnette laughed softly. "I figured."

Y/N looked down at the boys. Then carefully shifted the blanket so Jarnette could see them better. The reaction was immediate. “They are so beautiful, Y/N.” Jarnette's hand flew to her mouth. Tears instantly filled her eyes.

Y/N smiled. "They're pretty cute."

Jarnette let out a shaky laugh. "Oh my God." She stepped closer.

The babies remained asleep. Tiny faces peeking out from their blankets.

"Ethan," Y/N whispered, nodding toward one. Then the other. "And Liam."

Jarnette laughed and cried at the same time. "Oh, look at them." Her voice cracked. "They're perfect."

Y/N looked down at them. At the two tiny boys resting against her chest. And for the thousandth time that night, she felt her heart completely melt. "Yeah."

Jarnette carefully touched one tiny hand. Liam immediately wrapped his fingers around hers. Pure reflex. The gesture absolutely destroyed her. Another tear escaped. "Oh no."

Y/N laughed. "What?"

"I'm a grandmother." The words seemed to hit her all over again. She looked between the boys. Then toward the bedroom door. Then back to Y/N. "I'm a grandmother."

Y/N grinned. “Yes, you are, Mama J.”

Jarnette wiped her eyes. Immediately failing when more tears replaced them. "You two actually did it."

That made Y/N glance down the hallway toward the master bedroom. Toward the woman sleeping inside. The woman who had carried these boys. The woman who had trusted Y/N through every appointment, every fear, every decision.

A soft smile appeared on her face. "No." Her voice came out quiet. Full of emotion.

"Lizzie did it."

Jarnette's eyes softened immediately. "Yeah."

They stood there for a moment. Looking at the babies. Looking at the future.

---

Next Morning

Wanda’s POV

The next morning felt strangely peaceful. For the first time in months, there wasn’t a baby kicking Lizzie’s ribs, tiny feet pressing against her bladder, or an enormous belly making it impossible to roll over comfortably. Instead, there was only exhaustion—the deep, bone-deep kind that she never experienced before.

Slowly, Lizzie blinked awake and stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing someone was gently running their fingers through her hair. She turned her head and found Y/N sitting beside the bed, already awake, already watching her. The second their eyes met, Y/N smiled.

“Hi”

Lizzie smiled immediately. Y/N leaned down and kissed her softly.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Morning.”

Her voice was sleepy and scratchy, exactly like someone who had spent the previous day giving birth.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Lizzie considered it. “Sore.”

“Fair.”

“Tired.”

“Also fair.”

“My entire body hates me.”

Y/N kissed her forehead.

They simply looked at each other for a moment, still processing that everything had changed. Somewhere in their house were two tiny newborn boys. Their boys.

Then Lizzie frowned. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Where did you sleep?”

“The guest room.”

Lizzie stared. “The guest room?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“You needed rest.”

“Our bed is king size.”

“It is.”

“We have plenty of room.”

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you sleep here?”

Y/N took her hand. “Because you needed a proper night’s sleep.”

Lizzie immediately pouted.

“Sweetheart—”

“I needed my wife.”

Y/N’s expression softened instantly.

“I wanted my wife.”

“Your body is sore…”

“I wanted my wife.”

Y/N sighed. The battle was already lost.

“Okay.”

Before Y/N could say anything else, Lizzie tugged on her hand.

“Come here.”

“Liz—”

“Come here.”

Laughing, Y/N carefully climbed onto the bed beside her. Lizzie immediately scooted closer, then closer still, until she was practically attached to Y/N’s side. A small groan escaped her as she settled.

“Oh.”

Y/N looked concerned immediately. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Another tiny wince. “It just hurts.”

Y/N wrapped an arm around her carefully, as though she were made of glass. Lizzie immediately tucked herself against her wife’s chest, satisfied.

“There.”

Y/N smiled. “There?”

“There.”

Her eyes were already drifting shut again. Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You know you’re impossible.”

“Mm.”

“I was trying to let you rest.”

“I rest better with you.”

The answer came without hesitation, simple and honest. Y/N’s heart melted all over again. She tightened her arm around Lizzie just enough to hold her without hurting her, and Lizzie sighed contentedly against her chest.

The sound alone made every second spent sleeping in the guest room feel ridiculous.

A few moments later, Y/N brushed her fingers through Lizzie’s hair again. “Your mom made breakfast.”

Lizzie made a sleepy noise. “Hm?”

“Breakfast. Do you want some?”

Lizzie lifted her head just enough to kiss Y/N’s cheek—a silent yes—before immediately settling back against her. Y/N smiled.

“You seem very awake.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Ah. That explains it.”

Lizzie weakly pinched her side.

Before Y/N could tease her further, a cry suddenly came from the bassinet beside the bed. Both women turned immediately. A second cry followed, tiny and unmistakably newborn.

Y/N smiled. “Good morning, Liam.”

Another little cry answered.

“He’s hungry,” Lizzie said fondly.

“Probably.”

Y/N carefully helped her sit upright against the headboard. Every movement was slow and gentle; yesterday’s soreness was still very real.

“Comfortable?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly isn’t comfortable.”

“It’s the best we’re getting today.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “I’ll get him.”

The bassinet sat only a few feet away, a constant reminder that everything had changed overnight. Twenty-four hours ago there had been two babies inside Lizzie. Now they were here, sleeping beside their bed and already running the house.

Y/N carefully lifted Liam. The little boy immediately fussed louder, his tiny face scrunching as his fists waved in the air.

“Oh, buddy.” She kissed the top of his head. “There you are.”

The baby made another unhappy noise.

“I know.”

Y/N rocked him gently against her chest before bringing him back to the bed. By the time she sat beside Lizzie again, Liam had calmed enough. She carefully placed him into Lizzie’s waiting arms.

“There you go.”

Lizzie instantly softened. Every time she looked at the boys, she softened, as if her entire body recognized them before her mind could catch up.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Liam blinked sleepily up at her. Still unhappy, but quieter.

Lizzie adjusted her shirt while Y/N helped position him the way the midwife had shown them. The first attempt was awkward. The second was better.

Then Liam latched. Immediately.

Both women froze before looking at each other.

“We did it.”

Lizzie laughed softly. “We did.”

Y/N’s chest tightened in that overwhelming, heart-too-full kind of way. Liam’s tiny hand rested against Lizzie as he fed peacefully, as if he had been doing this forever.

The room settled into a peaceful silence. For almost thirty whole seconds.

Then a loud cry erupted from the bassinet.

Both women looked over immediately. Another cry followed, then a third—louder, stronger, and significantly more offended.

Y/N laughed. “Ethan.”

The crying somehow got louder. She stood and carefully lifted the second twin. The moment Ethan was in her arms, he voiced his complaints even more dramatically.

“Okay.”

Cry.

“I’m here…I can hear you buddy.” Y/N kissed his head. Nothing. She bounced him gently. Nothing.

“Buddy.”

Cry.

“You know your brother is eating.”

Lizzie laughed around Liam.

Y/N looked down at her son. “You’re very dramatic.”

Cry.

“Oh no.”

Lizzie was definitely laughing now. “He gets that from you.”

“I do not.”

Ethan immediately let out another loud cry. Both women looked at him. Then at each other.

Y/N sighed. “Okay. You absolutely get that from me.”

The baby continued protesting his circumstances as if proving her point. Meanwhile, Liam remained perfectly content in Lizzie’s arms, quiet and focused entirely on breakfast.

The contrast was ridiculous—one twin calm and easygoing, the other loudly expressing every opinion he had. And somehow, despite being exhausted, sore, emotional, and running on almost no sleep, Y/N and Lizzie couldn’t stop smiling as they watched their boys begin their first morning at home.

---

The first few weeks were hard.

Not bad. Not unhappy. Just hard.

Nobody had prepared them for how exhausting newborn twins could be. The boys woke constantly—sometimes because they were hungry, sometimes because they needed diaper changes, sometimes because they wanted to be held, and sometimes because they were babies and apparently felt no obligation to explain themselves.

Day and night blurred together. Three in the morning looked suspiciously similar to three in the afternoon. Sleep became something that happened in tiny pieces rather than full nights.

The strange thing was that Y/N never seemed to complain. Not once.

The first time Ethan woke crying at two in the morning, Lizzie immediately tried to sit up. Y/N gently pushed her back onto the pillow.

“I’ve got him.”

“Baby—”

“I’ve got him.”

Then she disappeared toward the bassinet.

The same thing happened again at four. And six. And every night after that.

The only time Y/N woke Lizzie was when one of the boys needed to be fed. Everything else? Y/N handled it. Diapers. Rocking. Swaddling. Pacing the bedroom at ridiculous hours. She did it all.

Lizzie protested every single time.

“Y/N.”

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No.”

“I can help.”

“You are helping.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Y/N adjusted Liam against her shoulder. “You carried them for nine months.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It absolutely counts.”

“It doesn’t.”

Y/N pointed at her. “You grew two humans.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“You delivered them.”

Another eye roll.

“You are recovering.”

“Y/N.”

“And now it’s my turn.”

The conversation happened so often that eventually even Jarnette started laughing whenever she heard it, because the result was always the same.

Y/N won.

Not because Lizzie agreed. Because Y/N was stubborn. Ridiculously stubborn. Especially when it came to taking care of the people she loved.

And right now, there were three people she loved more than anything.

Lizzie’s recovery went well. The midwives were pleased. The doctor was pleased. Everything healed exactly as expected.

That didn’t mean it was easy.

The first few days were rough. Everything hurt. Walking hurt. Sitting hurt. Standing hurt. Even laughing sometimes hurt. Y/N never left her to deal with it alone. Every morning, Lizzie’s medications were waiting before she even woke up. Cooling packs were always ready. Fresh water somehow appeared beside the bed. Meals appeared as if by magic—mostly because Jarnette cooked enough food to feed an entire village.

When Lizzie needed help bathing, Y/N was there. Helping her in and out. Making sure the water wasn’t too hot. Washing her hair when lifting her arms became uncomfortable. Helping her dry off afterward. Never making her feel embarrassed. Never making her feel helpless. Just loved.

One afternoon, about a week after the birth, Lizzie stood at the bottom of the stairs staring upward. Y/N immediately recognized the look.

“What?”

“The stairs.”

Y/N looked at the stairs. Then back at her. Then at the stairs again.

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No.”

“I can walk.”

“You can.”

“Then why—”

Before she could finish, Y/N scooped her into her arms.

“Y/N!”

“You literally just said stairs.”

Lizzie laughed despite herself. “I can walk up the stairs.”

“I know.”

“Then put me down.”

Instead of answering, Y/N stopped on the stairs.

Lizzie frowned. “Baby—”

The rest of the sentence vanished when Y/N leaned in and kissed her. Not rushed. Not playful. A deep, lingering kiss—the kind that said everything Y/N struggled to put into words. When they finally pulled apart, Lizzie blinked at her, completely caught off guard. Y/N rested their forehead against hers.

“Let me take care of you.”

The words were quiet and simple, but they hit harder than any argument could have. Because Lizzie knew exactly what Y/N meant. Not just today. Not just while she recovered. Always. The same way Lizzie had carried their sons for nine months. The same way she had spent hours bringing them into the world. The same way they had always taken care of each other.

Something in Lizzie’s expression softened immediately. The protest died before it could leave her mouth. Instead, she whispered, “Okay.”

Y/N smiled—a small smile reserved only for her.

Then Lizzie buried her face in Y/N’s neck, wrapped her arms tighter around her shoulders, and Y/N carried her the rest of the way upstairs.

---

The next afternoon was quiet.

Or as quiet as a house with newborn twins could be. Meaning one baby was asleep, the other was threatening to wake up, and everyone was trying not to breathe too loudly.

Lizzie sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea while Jarnette prepared lunch. Their conversation drifted between babies, sleep schedules, and whatever random topic happened to come up.

Eventually, Jarnette glanced toward the living room and immediately smiled.

“She’s doing great.”

Lizzie followed her gaze.

Y/N was sprawled across the couch, completely unconscious. One arm hung off the side while the television played quietly in the background. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Lizzie knew that. She had simply sat down for a minute, and apparently that minute had turned into a nap.

Jarnette laughed softly. “Poor thing.”

Lizzie smiled, though the sight made her heart ache a little. Y/N looked exhausted. Not unhealthy. Not overwhelmed. Just tired. 

“I’m lucky.”

The words slipped out before Lizzie could stop them.

Jarnette looked at her, then toward Y/N, before nodding. “You are.” There wasn’t even a hint of teasing in her voice. Just honesty.

Lizzie watched her wife sleep. The woman who insisted on changing diapers at three in the morning. The woman who walked endless laps around the bedroom with crying babies. The woman who refused to let Lizzie carry laundry baskets, groceries, or anything heavier than a newborn.

The woman who still looked at Lizzie like she’d hung the moon.

A small smile appeared on Jarnette’s face.

A sudden cry echoed through the baby monitor. Y/N sat upright immediately, like someone had flipped a switch. One second asleep, the next completely alert.

“Ethan,” she mumbled.

A second cry joined the first. “Liam too.”

Y/N was already pushing herself off the couch, already moving, already preparing to head down the hall. But before she could stand, Lizzie reached her.

Y/N looked up in confusion. “Baby?”

For the first time in weeks, Lizzie was the one stopping her. Not the other way around. She gently placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit.”

Y/N blinked. The baby monitor crackled again, both boys making their presence known.

“I should—”

“I’ve got it.”

Y/N stared at her as if the concept itself didn’t make sense.

Lizzie couldn’t help smiling. Carefully, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips, then another just because she could. When she pulled back, her thumb brushed across Y/N’s cheek. The faint exhaustion beneath her eyes was impossible to miss. The messy hair. The way she still looked half asleep. The way she’d spent weeks putting everyone else’s needs before her own.

Lizzie’s heart squeezed. “You can sleep a little more.”

Y/N immediately shook her head. “No, sweetheart—”

“Y/N Olsen-Y/F/N.”

The use of her full name stopped her instantly. A trick that worked surprisingly well.

Lizzie smiled softly and stroked her cheek again. “I mean it. I’ve got it.”

Y/N looked toward the hallway. Then toward the monitor. Then back at her wife.

The boys cried again.

For a moment, Y/N looked torn. Then Lizzie kissed her forehead.

“Let me take care of you too.”

The words landed exactly the way Y/N’s had weeks earlier on the staircase. The same promise. The same love. Y/N’s eyes softened immediately. And finally—She nodded.

“Okay.”

Lizzie smiled. “Good.”

Y/N reached for her hand before she could leave. Their fingers intertwined for a brief moment, a familiar gesture and a quiet reminder. Then Lizzie squeezed once and let go.

“I’ll bring them back when they’re fed.”

Y/N nodded, still looking unconvinced, still looking like she’d rather be the one getting up. But she stayed seated. As Lizzie disappeared down the hallway toward the nursery, the cries gradually grew louder before softening as she reached the boys.

Y/N listened. A small smile appearing despite herself. The sounds of her wife soothing their sons drifted through the house—gentle, warm, comforting. The same way her voice had always been.

And for the first time since Ethan and Liam were born, Y/N allowed herself to relax back against the couch. Just for a little while. Just long enough to rest. While down the hall, Lizzie gathered their boys into her arms and quietly reminded them that they were loved.

By both their mothers.

Every second of every day.

The memories returned slowly after that. The diary. Their mother. The letters. Wanda holding them while they completely fell apart in her arms.

Warmth spread painfully through Y/N’s chest at the thought.

They didn’t remember falling asleep. Only Wanda’s hands in their hair. Wanda crying with them. Not leaving. Never leaving.

Y/N tried opening their eyes fully and immediately regretted it. Sunlight filtering through the curtains stabbed straight through their skull, earning another weak groan from them.

Before they could even turn properly to search for Wanda, something cool settled gently over their eyes. A damp cloth. Then Wanda’s voice came softly beside them.

“Shhhh,” she whispered. “Stay there a little.”

Y/N exhaled slowly beneath the cloth, relief already spreading from both the coolness and the sound of her voice. Their hand lifted weakly across the bed until they found Wanda’s, pulling it carefully against their chest without hesitation. Right over their heart.

Holding it there.

Wanda’s fingers curled instinctively against them, and the touch alone nearly made Y/N emotional again. Their mouth opened automatically, ready to apologize — for crying, for breaking down, for becoming too much.

But before the words could leave, Wanda kissed them.

Soft. Quick. Enough to silence them immediately.

Then she pulled back only slightly, lips still brushing theirs as she whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

Another kiss followed right after. Slower this time. Tender.

Y/N melted instantly, too exhausted to argue even if they wanted to. So they stayed there quietly, holding Wanda’s hand against their chest while she continued brushing gentle fingers through their hair.

Safe. Warm. Loved.

The headache dulled slowly beneath her care, and somewhere between her soft touches and the steady sound of her breathing beside them, Y/N fell asleep again.

---

The next time Y/N woke, the room was quieter. Softer. The sunlight had shifted enough to tell them several hours had passed. The cloth no longer rested over their eyes, and while the headache still lingered faintly, it was manageable now.

They blinked slowly toward the sitting area nearby. Wanda sat there working, several papers spread around her as she reviewed something with focused concentration. Every few minutes, one of her hands drifted unconsciously over her stomach.

Beautiful.

The thought came instantly. It always did.

As if sensing them awake, Wanda looked up immediately, her entire expression softening the second their eyes met.

“There you are,” she said gently.

Y/N stared at her a moment longer than necessary, still waking fully, still grounding themself in the quiet reality of her being there.

“What time is it?” they asked, voice rough from sleep.

“Noon.”

Y/N groaned weakly.

Wanda laughed softly. “Good timing actually. I was about to wake you for lunch.”

Y/N pushed themself upright against the headboard slowly, wincing faintly at the lingering ache in their head.

Wanda noticed immediately. “Still hurting?”

“A little.”

Without another word, Wanda stood and walked toward them. Y/N watched her the entire way.

When she reached the bed, she sat beside them and immediately brushed gentle fingers through their hair again, checking them over the same way she always did after difficult nights.

“You needed the sleep,” she murmured softly.

Y/N leaned instinctively into her touch, quiet for a moment before their eyes drifted toward the bedside table. Toward the diary.

Wanda noticed that too. But instead of speaking about it, she simply cupped Y/N’s face gently and kissed their forehead.

“No more reading today,” she whispered.

Not an order. A decision made entirely out of love.

Y/N closed their eyes briefly against her hand. And for once, they allowed someone else to decide they needed rest.

---

Next Day

Queen Eleonora’s Old Chambers

The next day, Y/N finally opened the letter. Their mother’s handwriting covered the envelope, careful and elegant. Familiar enough that it made their chest ache before they had even read a single word.

For a long moment, they only stared at it.

Then finally—they unfolded the paper.

And began.

My dearest Y/N, If you are reading this, then it means I am gone. I prayed for many years that I would one day have the chance to say these things to you myself. But life inside this palace rarely grants us the endings we hope for. So instead, I leave you these words. First—none of this was ever your fault. Not your body. Not your heart. Not the cruelty you survived within these walls. You were never a curse. You were the greatest gift this life ever gave me. From the moment I first held you, I knew the gods had placed something extraordinary into my arms. Not because you were an heir. Not because of a throne. Because you loved so easily. Even after pain tried to teach you otherwise. I watched this kingdom try to harden you for years. I watched fear follow you through hallways no child should have feared walking through. And still—you remained gentle. Do you understand how remarkable that is? Kindness after suffering is not weakness, my darling. It is one of the strongest things a person can become. Your father believed strength came from fear. From violence. From forcing the world to kneel before you. But he was wrong. Real strength is surviving cruelty and choosing not to become cruel in return. And you… You survived. I know there will be days you hate yourself. Days you will hear his voice in your mind louder than mine. On those days, I need you to remember this: There was never anything wrong with you. Not when you played princess beneath the oak tree. Not when you cried over injured birds. Not when your body changed. Not now. You are exactly who you were meant to be. I need you to keep living softly anyway. Love people deeply. Protect those weaker than you. Laugh loudly when life allows it. And please—for me—allow yourself to be loved too. Do not spend your entire life believing affection must be earned through suffering. You deserve tenderness simply because you exist. If one day you become king, rule differently than he did. Listen before you command. Choose mercy whenever you can. And never mistake fear for respect. The people may obey a ruler they fear. But they will love a ruler who sees them. I already know what kind of person you will become. Not because Alaric shaped you. But because despite everything he did—you remained yourself. And gods, Y/N… I am so proud of you for that. There are not enough words in this world to explain how much I love you. There never will be. So I will leave you with the one truth I carried with me every single day of my life: Being your mother was the greatest honor I have ever known. Forever yours, Mama

By the time they finished the letter, tears were falling freely down Y/N’s face. But for the first time since opening the diary, they were smiling too.

Their mother’s words still echoed inside their chest, wrapping around wounds they had carried for so long they no longer remembered what it felt like without them.

You were never a curse.

Y/N pressed the letter carefully against their lips for a moment, eyes closing tightly.

Then came a gentle knock. They looked toward the door, quickly brushing at their face, though it did very little to hide the evidence of crying.

“Come in,” they called softly.

The door opened almost immediately, and Wanda stepped inside carefully, one hand resting against her stomach. The moment her eyes landed on Y/N, concern crossed her face instantly.

“My love—”

Then she noticed the smile. Small as it was, something in her expression softened with visible relief.

Y/N looked at her for another second before slowly lifting one arm toward her silently inviting her to come closer.

Wanda came immediately. She crossed the room without hesitation and settled beside them, close and warm and safe. The second she sat down, Y/N wrapped both arms around her waist and buried their face gently against her stomach.

Against their baby.

Wanda exhaled softly at the contact, one hand immediately sliding into their hair, careful fingers combing through it slowly.

Y/N held onto her tighter. Not desperately this time. Just lovingly. Grounding themself in her.

After a quiet moment, they lifted the letter toward her without speaking.　Wanda took it carefully.

Y/N stayed pressed against her while she read, cheek resting against her bump, listening to the soft sound of paper shifting beneath her fingers. Every so often, Wanda’s breathing hitched slightly, and Y/N knew exactly which lines were doing it.

When Wanda finally reached the end, silence settled around them again. Heavy, but warm now, different from before. Wanda lowered the letter slowly into her lap and looked down at Y/N, tears filling her eyes again.

But she smiled too. “Oh…” she whispered shakily.

Y/N tightened their arms around her slightly.

“She loved you so much,” Wanda murmured. The words nearly broke them all over again, but in the best way this time.

Y/N turned their head just enough to press a soft kiss against Wanda’s stomach through her dress.

Then another.

“For the record,” they mumbled quietly against the fabric, voice still rough from crying, “your grandmother was terrifyingly wise.”

Wanda laughed through her tears immediately. The sound filled the room softly. Beautifully.

Y/N smiled against her bump at hearing it, and Wanda cupped the back of their head gently before leaning down to kiss their hair.

“She was right about you,” Wanda whispered.

Y/N closed their eyes. For once, they wanted to believe that too. They kissed Wanda’s bump one more time, before they slowly lifted their head from Wanda’s stomach. Their eyes were still red from crying, cheeks damp, but there was something softer in them now. Something open.

Wanda’s hand remained in their hair, gently brushing strands away from their face as she looked down at them with so much tenderness it nearly hurt to witness.

Y/N stared at her quietly for a moment, taking her in fully. The warmth in her eyes. The concern she still carried even now. The way she held both them and the baby like they were the most precious things in the world. And suddenly, their chest felt too full.

“I love you,” they said softly. Their hand slid carefully over her stomach again, thumb brushing lightly against where their child rested beneath her skin.

“I love you so much.”

Wanda’s breath caught instantly.

Y/N smiled at her then — small, shaky, but real.

And gods, it nearly destroyed her. Because after everything they had just read, after all the pain buried inside that diary, Y/N was still capable of looking at someone with that much love.

Wanda’s eyes filled immediately. “Oh no,” she laughed weakly through tears already threatening to spill. “Don’t smile at me like that right now.”

Y/N huffed the faintest laugh. “Like what?”

“Like…” Wanda shook her head helplessly, cupping their face with both hands now. “Like I’m your everything.”

Y/N’s expression soften, “but you are my everything.”

Wanda leaned forward quickly and kissed them before they could say more. Y/N melted into it instantly.

When they pulled apart, Wanda rested her forehead against theirs, smiling tearfully.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “So much it scares me sometimes.”

Y/N’s eyes softened immediately. Their hand came up to hold hers against their cheek. “You and the baby are my favorite people in the whole world,” they murmured quietly.

Wanda actually laughed through her tears at that, then cried harder because somehow that made it worse.

Y/N smiled helplessly and wiped at her cheeks carefully with their thumbs. “Hey,” they whispered softly. “No crying.”

Wanda stared at them in disbelief. “You made me cry!”

Y/N looked genuinely thoughtful for a second. “…That sounds fake.”

Wanda laughed loudly enough this time that it startled even herself. And hearing that sound — real laughter, warm and alive — made Y/N smile again. The kind of smile Eleonora would have adored seeing.

The smile she fought so hard to protect.

---

A Week Later

Wanda’s POV

A week had passed since the diary. And slowly—little by little—Y/N had begun breathing easier again. Wanda noticed it in the small things first. The way their smiles came quicker now. The way they laughed more openly instead of stopping themselves halfway through like joy was something they needed permission for.

The guilt they carried over Eleonora’s death no longer seemed permanently attached to their shoulders. Not gone completely. Wanda doubted it ever would be. But lighter. Manageable.

And perhaps most importantly—Y/N had finally started believing some of the things Eleonora wrote about them. At least a little.

They were also trying very hard to stop apologizing constantly. Sometimes they caught themselves halfway through an apology and physically stopped talking with the most offended expression imaginable, which usually made Wanda laugh immediately.

But other times… Wanda was almost certain they apologized on purpose now. Mostly because every single time Wanda interrupted them with a kiss—Y/N looked entirely too pleased afterward. Suspiciously pleased.

Wanda’s pregnancy had been going wonderfully too. The healers were happy. The baby was healthy. Wanda herself felt strong despite the exhaustion pregnancy brought. Well—mostly exhaustion. And an increasingly ridiculous amount of desire for her spouse. 

Honestly, it was becoming a problem. A very distracting problem. Especially when Y/N looked like that.

Like right now, Wanda stood near the edge of the training grounds pretending to observe respectfully like a proper queen should. But in reality—she had spent the last several minutes openly staring at her spouse. And gods help her—Y/N was making it very difficult to behave.

They were sparring with Steve. Winning. Obviously. Their movements were sharp and controlled, sword flashing through the sunlight with practiced precision while Steve struggled more and more to keep up.

Sweat dampened the collar of Y/N’s shirt, sticking lightly against their skin. Wanda’s eyes tracked a bead of sweat slowly slipping down the side of their neck. Then lower.

Oh, for the love of—

Their biceps flexed every time they swung the sword. And when Y/N pushed slightly damp hair back from their face with one hand while smirking at Steve—Wanda actually felt heat rush straight through her body.

“Fuck—”

“Well,” Natasha’s voice whispered beside her suddenly, “that explains why Their Majesty has been smiling all morning.”

Wanda nearly jumped. She turned sharply toward Nat, horrified.

“Natasha!”

Nat looked entirely unashamed. In fact, she looked delighted.

“What?” Nat asked innocently. “You were practically drooling.”

“I was not.”

“You absolutely were, Your Majesty.”