Marvel Self-Inserts

Your phone buzzes again with an incoming call and you glance at the screen, quickly returning your gaze to your laptop when you see the name ‘Brandon’ flash up on your screen. Like every time he’s called over the past few months you begin to worry that he’s trying to call to give you bad news – something happened to one of your Moms’, a mission gone wrong, one of them has gone missing, one is in the hospital… You figure though that if it’s important enough he’ll leave a message or at the very least, you’ll hear something on the news. Maybe Tony would get in touch with you, something he’d gotten into the habit of ever since you’d left for college.

After a couple of minutes your phone stops buzzing. Like every other time he’d attempted to contact you, Brandon hadn’t left a voicemail. At Thanksgiving your Moms’ had called a couple of times but hadn’t pressed the matter when you didn’t pick up the phone. Only at Christmas did Wanda send you a message. ‘Hey Honey, assume you couldn’t make the airfare home. Hope you have someone to spend the holidays with. Love you.’

You could’ve flown home if you’d truly wanted to. Tony had offered you the money for the plane ticket. “Actually kid,” He’d said to you over the phone. “I’ll do you one better. Get Happy to fly over with the private jet. You can ride home in style.”

“That’s kind Tony and I appreciate it,” You’d said. “But I have plans for the holidays already. I’m going to stay in California.”

Kate had read the message from Wanda over your shoulder, her nose wrinkling, “She really waited until Christmas Eve to check if you weren’t coming home? She could’ve at least tried to care.”

Kate Bishop, the only girl in your college that you’d confided in about your shit parents. Kate hadn’t wanted to go home for Christmas either so the two of you spent a couple of nights in a fancy hotel, with plans to spend the day after Christmas at Universal Studios, somewhere you hadn’t been yet, before heading back to your respective dorms to catch up on studying.

You’d shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not like it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” Kate had snapped. “That’s your Mom! And that’s the only message she sent you for Christmas? No promise to call, no asking if you’re okay, no actually checking if you have plans, just assuming that you do. In fact she probably assumes you don’t have plans, she just doesn’t want to know. The less she knows the less guilty she has to feel.”

You’d heard all this before but there was something different about Kate getting angry on your behalf. Your best friend from home, Cassie, had ranted and raved about your Moms’ and your twin multiple times but you were used to her ranting and raving about anything. Cassie was lovely but also righteous, always angry about something, always worrying about someone suffering in some far corner of the earth, and when she ranted about your parents it felt as far removed as her other indignations. Kate though – good, funny, kind Kate who never had a bad word to say about anyone? It felt personal. It felt real.

You’d realised why Kate got so upset on your behalf the day after Christmas when she’d kissed you on the Secret Life of Pets ride, something you’d both ridden because it had a short queue. You’d both been laughing and then suddenly her mouth was on yours and it had taken the ride operator three times to ask you to get off because the ride was over. When you went back to the dorm Kate had moved in with you for the remainder of Christmas break, the two of you scrunching up onto your single bed, her arm around your waist, your head tucked beneath her chin. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it was comforting.

On New Year’s Eve the first call from your brother had come through. You’d been getting ready to go out – parties had never really been your thing but Kate had told you it would be casual, and that besides, she wanted to kiss you when it was midnight, and she wanted everyone to see. So you’d agreed to go, aiming for a look that wasn’t too casual but also wasn’t too dressed up. You’d been debating what to do with your hair when your phone screen had lit up and you’d blinked at it in surprise when you saw Brandon’s name.

You hadn’t answered. He hadn’t left a message or tried to call again. Maybe he’d hit the wrong number, you figured. New York were three hours ahead of California, maybe he’d already had a few drinks and maybe tomorrow he’d be embarrassed when he realised he’d tried to call you. You’d assumed that was the case until a week later he tried to call you again.

It’s now May and you’re close to finishing your first year – he’s tried to call at least once every two weeks since then, along with sporadic phone calls from your Mother’s which you also ignore. Tony doesn’t give anything away when he calls, usually about once every three weeks – to check in, to see how your studies are going, whether you need any more money. He keeps the conversation on you, wanting to know about you and your creative writing class and whether you’ve made any friends and he’d certainly wanted to hear all about Kate. You’d found that you rather liked having someone ask after you, having an opportunity to talk about yourself uninterrupted, so you’d stopped asking him questions about the Avengers and let yourself tell him all the details of your college life.

As soon as your phone stops ringing you turn your attention back to the story you’d been working on. You need to submit a 10,000 word short story, and you’re struggling to know what to write about. You stare at the blank document in front of you when suddenly your phone buzzes again and you look down to see Brandon trying to call a second time. Your stomach twists with worry – maybe something really has happened to one of your Moms’. No matter how they treated you as you were growing up, they’re still your Moms’. You don’t wish them ill.

Whilst you’re still wondering whether to answer the phone it stops ringing and you let yourself breath. A moment later the symbol appears in the corner of the screen to show that you have a voicemail. Your eye-brows furrow before you flex your fingers over the keyboard, determined to ignore it, not interested in what your brother had to say.

After Christmas Kate had told you she thought you should go to therapy. If anyone else had said that to you you’d have been embarrassed, angry even, but there was something about the caring, gentle way that Kate said it that made you think maybe she was on to something. Tony was giving you a generous allowance each month so you didn’t have to go through the college’s free counsellor, you could choose whoever you wanted. You found someone’s profile online that you liked and they had immediate availability.

It had been awkward at first. Walking into a room and introducing yourself to a total stranger then being expected to immediately jump into the reason why you’re there, the thoughts, fears and worries you’ve been holding onto your entire life. Your therapist, Emma, had given you a kind smile and had asked why you’d decided to start therapy. You’d just about managed to say, “Well… I’ve always felt like my parents don’t love me as much as-” before you’d burst into tears.

Strange really. You’d had no problem saying those words to Kate, to Cassie. Hadn’t had any problem telling your new college friends that you weren’t going home for the holidays, that you weren’t that close to your family without elaborating further. But something about opening up to this woman sitting across from you, a pen and notebook in her lap, made you burst into tears. To her credit, she’d been very kind – letting you take a moment to pull yourself together, reassuring you it wasn’t unusual to cry in these sessions, that was why she kept a stock of tissues.

As months had gone by you hadn’t cried again but every time you left you would feel a heavy weight on your chest as memories of your childhood had flooded out of you, things you hadn’t thought about for years.

When you were ten years old you were desperate to see if you had powers like Wanda – she’d carried you; it made sense that you might also be enhanced. You’d been in your room, trying to concentrate, to produce the red, glowing magic that your Mom could conjure without thinking. You’d thrown your arms out, trying to move gracefully the way that your Mom did in the battlefield when you’d suddenly heard laughter. Brandon. Who’d filmed you on his phone and then showed your Moms’ who also laughed at you. Wanda had ruffled your hair but neither of them comforted you when your cheeks burned, your palms had gone sweaty and you hadn’t been able to look any of them in the eye for the rest of the night. Brandon had mocked your movements for weeks, snickering whenever it managed to successfully wind you up.

When you were sixteen Brandon had introduced his girlfriend to your Moms’ for the first time. They’d fallen in love with her instantly and you’d overheard Natasha describe her as “the daughter they never had.” When she’d met your eye she’d quickly told you she didn’t mean it like that – you’re still not sure how else she could’ve possibly meant it.

You’d told your therapist about the disastrous eighth birthday that had kick-started your realisation of how Brandon was treated compared to you. “I don’t want you to think it was about the gifts,” You’d said, shifting awkwardly on the suede couch in your therapist’s office. “I didn’t need a PlayStation or an XBOX or… Any of that. It’s just…”

When you leave the silence hanging between you for too long Emma prompts, “You needed your Moms’. Needed them to notice you and love you as much as they loved Brandon. There were two of them. One of them could’ve gone into your room, even if you’d all eventually made your way into Brandon’s room. One of them could’ve sat with you. They could’ve let you take turns opening the gifts rather than making you wait until Brandon was done. It was your birthday too and yet you were made to feel like an afterthought.”

You’d fiddled with your hands in front of you, “Sometimes I feel like I’m being overdramatic. I mean… It’s not like they abused me. They never laid a hand on me, never even really raised their voice to me, they were always calm. I felt safe with them.”

Emma had nodded before asking in her calm voice, “But did you feel wanted?”

You’d kept your tears in until you’d got back to your dorm. Because no – you’d never felt wanted. Not by your Moms’, your brother, any of the Avengers, not even by Cassie though it wasn’t her fault. There was only one person who had ever made you truly feel wanted.

Kate looks up from where she’s lounging on your bed as she sees the expression on your face. She’d gotten into the habit of hanging out in your room whilst you attempted to write, always bringing snacks and words of encouragement. Instead of saying anything she just holds out her arms and you abandon your laptop, picking up your phone and climb onto your single bed, letting her pull you into her warm embrace.

“Look,” You say, showing her the voicemail from your brother.

Kate kisses your forehead before leaning her head on your shoulder, “What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know. He’s been trying to get in touch since New Years and I’ve always ignored his calls. It’s the first time he’s left a voicemail.”

“You don’t have to listen to it if you don’t want to. You don’t owe him anything.”

“He’s still my brother-”

“And where was that energy from him when-” Kate forces herself to take a deep breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek this time. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“It’s sitting there, taunting me. I don’t want to look at that notification every day whilst I decide.” You sigh, “I’m going to play it.”

Kate doesn’t argue with you, secretly intrigued to hear what your brother could possibly want to finally leave a voicemail. You hit play, turning your phone on speaker so Kate can hear as well.

“Hey Y/N…” It almost feels a physical blow to hear your twin brother’s voice for the first time in months. It knocks the wind completely out of your sails so it takes you a minute to realise he’s slurring his words. “Do you remember when we were really little and we made that den in the- It was- You were so funny, always wanting to be the princess. It was kind of… Anyway, I just… You haven’t been home in forever. I thought maybe you knew, through the twin connection, we- Remember we used to pretend we could read each other’s minds? Anyway, things got kinda fucked around here but it’s not- I’ll be okay, I always am. It’d be good to see you, hear how college is treating you. Yeah… Call me back. If you want, I’m not that fussed. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

Kate rolls her eyes, her arm tightening around your waist the moment your phone goes silent, “Why’d he have to laugh like that when he asked how college was going?”

You’d noticed that too, as if you’d already crashed and burned and he was just waiting for you to tell them. Although you were struggling with your final assignment you’d been surprised at how easily college came to you – how quickly you’d managed to make friends, how you breezed through your assignments. Tony’s allowance meant you didn’t need to get a part-time job but you volunteered a couple of mornings a week at the on-campus library. College was easy – it was like you’d been waiting to get here. Now your life had officially begun and it was better than anything you could’ve imagined.

You didn’t have time to dwell on your brother’s voicemail. Not when Kate began kissing your neck, her hand wandering up and down your body. There were far more important things to focus on than Brandon right now.

You finish your 10,000 word short story, submitting it with the rest of your final assignments. It had taken a lot of late nights, and a lot of resistance from you to stop Kate from inadvertently distracting you but you’d managed it. Now you’ve packed up everything from your dorm room ready to go back to New York. You’d hoped you and Kate could wait out summer break in California but it turned out that Kate was going back to New York too; to spend the summer with her Mother who was apparently worried that Kate had gotten into all sorts of stupid shenanigans whilst she was at college.

Happy picks you up again, starting the long journey home whilst Kate returns with her Mom, the two of them apparently planning a road trip so they can catch up on everything. Kate had asked her if you could join them but apparently her Mom had been a bit weird about it, something which didn’t fill you with joy to meet her one day.

Once you’re home you’re surprised at the warm reception your Moms’ give you. You’ve just stepped through the door with one of your boxes when Natasha quickly pulls it out of your arms, before gathering you in her own, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “There’s our sweet girl,” Natasha says, hugging you tighter. “We’ve missed you so much.”

Wanda is waiting eagerly behind her, and gives you a big hug the second Natasha lets go, “We wanted to come pick you up but… Well, we’re glad you’re home. We should’ve sent you the money to come home for Christmas; it wasn’t the same without you.”

“We want to hear everything,” Natasha says, running a hand over your head as Wanda continues to hug you tight.

They both help you bring all your boxes inside then before you know what’s happened; you’re sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of you as your Moms’ look at you expectantly, wanting to hear ‘everything’. It’s been nearly a year since they saw you or even spoke to you and there’s a lot to tell them but you find that you don’t even know where to begin. You don’t think you’ve ever had their attention solely on you, and you find it a little awkward.

“Tony says that you met someone,” Natasha prompts.

So Tony had been talking to them about you. Neither of them had asked or tried other than the occasional sporadic phone call. No one had left you a message, not even Brandon after the one you’d ignored those few weeks ago. Eventually you nod and say quietly, “Yeah… Yeah, her name’s Kate.”

Your Moms’ look at you, clearly wanting more information, but your throat closes up as you realise you don’t want to tell them about Kate. Not because you’re embarrassed but because Kate… Kate is yours. The thought of you telling your Moms’ everything you love about Kate, and them telling Brandon, only for him to twist it around, to mock you, to mock her… Eventually you land on, “Yeah, I really like her.”

“You said she lives in New York?” Wanda asks. “Maybe we’ll all have to meet up for dinner.”

You nod, having absolutely no intention of introducing your parents’ to Kate. “Tell us about your course,” Natasha prompts. “Did you-”

“Hey.”

Your brother’s voice interrupts from the doorway, and you’re surprised at the instant reaction from your Moms’. Or the lack of. Rather than jumping up to fuss over him, to check if he needs anything, they both remain where they are. In fact, they both seem to visibly tense at the sound of his voice. Neither of them even turns to look at him.

Brandon looks like shit, you realise. Granted it’s been a long time since you’ve seen him but he looks nothing like the boy you’d said goodbye to nearly a year ago when you and your Moms’ had dropped him off at NYU. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, his face looks hollow and there’s just… A darkness to him that you hadn’t noticed before. He’d always been the golden boy, basking in the light and love of your Moms’, but now he seems like a shadow. “Hey,” You reply quietly. “You’re home too?”

Brandon lets out a snort that’s half a laugh, half exasperation, “I guess you didn’t tell her yet.” Your gaze swivels to your Moms’, neither of whom says anything. Brandon rolls his eyes, “College didn’t work out. I’ve been living at home since Christmas.”

Was that why he’d tried to call you on New Year’s Eve? To lament the fact that college ‘hadn’t worked out’ for him. Maybe that was why he’d laughed when he asked about college, assuming you were struggling with it – if Brandon hadn’t managed it, how could you be doing okay? You glance at your Moms’, but neither of them gives anything away. You rack your brains to remember what Brandon was even studying, feeling a little guilty when you realise you have no idea.

“It’s a good opportunity anyway,” Brandon says. “I’m going to start my own business.”

You wait for your Moms’ to back him up, to confirm it’s a good idea even if you think it’s an awful one, but they both remain silent, both of them staring awkwardly at the table. You take another sip of your tea before standing up, “Sounds… Great. I should probably freshen up.”

“We thought we’d go out for dinner,” Wanda says quickly. “Anywhere that you want.”

You raise your eye-brows in surprise, your gaze immediately darting to Brandon, taking in the way his jaw tightens and his mouth sets in a thin line. It only took over eighteen years but it’s finally your turn to pick where you all go for dinner. “I’ll have a think about it,” You eventually manage to say before slipping past your brother to head upstairs.

As you walk through the house you begin to notice things you hadn’t before. Glass missing from the frame of the family photo at the bottom of the stairs. A patched up hole in the wall just outside of Brandon’s room. When you peak into Brandon’s room you’re surprised to find it’s a complete mess, with empty plates and glasses on every surface, trash littering the floor… You can smell the stale air from the hallway and you wince, heading into your own room across the hall.

You take a seat on the edge of your childhood bed, remembering the countless nights you’d spent in here wishing they would just treat you like part of the family. Now you’d had your Moms’ full attention, they’d been so happy to see you, they’d even said you could pick where you all went out for dinner… But it still felt like too little, too late.

As for Brandon... You had no idea why he was acting so strange. What had actually happened for him to leave college? You pull out your phone, instantly relaxing when you find a message from Kate. Your calm in the storm.

Summer break begins to go by at snail’s pace. One month passes and you learn that Brandon was kicked out of college rather than leaving of his own freewill. His girlfriend had broken up with him and he’d spiralled, turning to alcohol, neglecting his studies, picking fights with anyone he deemed had ‘looked at him wrong’. Your Moms’ had tried to appeal on Brandon’s behalf but the college had kicked him out anyway, not wanting the hassle of him. Brandon had come home, cursing the dean, cursing everything, insisting he was going to start his own business, that he didn’t need a degree to be a success. When it turned out to be harder than he’d anticipated, he’d fallen into a routine of skulking around the house, grunting or sneering at anyone who tried to talk to him, then spending every evening drinking alone in his room. If your Moms’ tentatively suggested he should meet up with his friends he rolled his eyes and mumbled something about not wanting to see those losers.

You’d realised quickly Brandon had a temper that he’d never really shown before, only made worse when he was drinking. Your Moms’ didn’t look at him like their golden boy anymore but they still didn’t stand up to him, not even when he got right in Wanda’s face, screaming abuse at her before grabbing the nearest thing to him and slamming it against the floor. That turned out to be Natasha’s favourite mug which had smashed into a million pieces. You’d simply watched, horrified. Brandon had tried to talk to you a couple of times, tried to get back to your usual rapport, trying to undermine your college, your course, the few friends that you’d told them about. It didn’t work this time though. Rather than humiliation and anger, you simply felt sad for him. He’d spent his whole life being told he was God’s gift to humanity and he was now discovering he wasn’t. That if he wanted to make something of his life, he’d have to work for it. And it didn’t look like he was willing to put in the effort.

You meet up with Kate at least once a week and she delights in your brother’s downfall. “What?” Kate asks when you give her a look. “It’s a little bit funny.”

“I’m worried for my Moms’. He’s… He’s so wound up Kate, I really thought he was gonna hit Mom the other day-”

“They’re Avengers; they could kick his ass if they wanted to. And they probably should, it would teach him a valuable lesson. But they don’t. And until someone does something, this is all he’s ever gonna be. A loser, stuck at home with his Mommy’s. Even his girlfriend sniffed out his shit and good for her honestly.” Kate grins at you, kissing your cheek, “Sorry, sorry, I know he’s your brother. But come on, it's not like he ever cared about you.”

“I know,” You reply quietly, remembering the many conversations you’d had with Emma. Now you were home you were still talking to her weekly, just virtually. “It’s just… Hard to blame him entirely. If I was the one my Moms’ chose to shower with their love and light like that, would I have spared a thought for him?”

“Yes,” Kate replies without hesitation. “Yes, you would have. I’ve heard you talk about him Y/N, and I know that all you ever wanted was a brother, not a rival. You would’ve insisted on things being fair.”

You glance at her, “Is this because of when I argued about the rules of UNO? Because-”

“UNO, Monopoly, pretty much any board game we play and you insist on looking up the rules,” Kate teases, kissing your cheek again. “Because you like things to be fair. Brandon didn’t care about whether things were fair, he only cared about himself. And now the dynamic is shifting and he hates that.”

You lean your head on her shoulder, “It must be embarrassing for him though. No matter what went down when we were kids, he’s still my brother. I didn’t want him to crash and burn.”

“You’re a better person than me because I would be gloating about this every chance I got.”

You grin, nudging her chin with your head, “Yeah, we all know.”

“Seriously though, it’s not your job to manage your brother’s failure. He could apply to go to college next year or get an internship or something. His life isn’t over, I’m sure your Moms’ have strings to pull if he would just get off his ass and ask.” Kate leans her head against yours, “I was thinking we could go away for a bit.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“My family has a vacation home in Vermont. We normally go in December so it’ll be empty right now. Just for a couple of weeks, we could go on walks and you… You could have a break. Every time I see you, you look more and more stressed out. You deserve a rest from all of this.”

The atmosphere in your house had been so weird and Kate had noticed it was taking a toll on you. You and your Moms’ had been tiptoeing around your brother because the slightest thing could set him off into a fit of anger. Natasha had patched up a couple more holes in the house, and Wanda was spending more time staring into space, simply responding “I’m fine darling” whenever you asked if she was okay. The thought of escaping that oppressive house for two weeks was a relief, and you immediately felt like you could breathe again.

That feeling of relief is short-lived and by the time you get home your chest is tight with anxiety again. Brandon is upstairs in his room, screaming and shouting about something, his ravings punctuated by the sounds of loud bangs, and your Moms’ are in the kitchen, Natasha’s arms around Wanda whilst she sobs into her chest. You hesitate in the doorway, before grabbing a dustpan and brush to sweep up the broken debris on the floor. It looks like a plate – or what used to be a plate anyway.

“Thanks Sweetheart,” Natasha says quietly. One of her hands runs up and down Wanda’s back. “I’m sorry about all of this, it’s just… He’s going through a rough patch. He needs time-”

“It’s August. He got kicked out of college eight months ago.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, hard and bitter as you scrape the broken plate into the bin. “You’ve all been living like this for eight months?”

“He- He’s our son; he needs our support right now-”

“How are you supporting him?” You ask, turning to face them both, feeling momentarily guilty when you catch sight of Wanda’s tear streaked face. But you know you’re right and now that you’ve started you find that you can’t stop, “You’re not supporting him, you’re enabling him. What has he actually done since being kicked out? He doesn’t even have a job.”

“He’s been looking-”

“Bullshit he’s been looking! He sits in his room wallowing in self-pity and you both just let him. Why bother actually looking for a job when you two will be there to catch him when he falls? I know you’ve been giving him money and it’s being wasted on enabling his drinking habits-”

“He’s not like you,” Wanda says defensively. “His whole world fell apart when Vanessa broke up with him and now he’s struggling. You’ve always been so independent-”

“I didn’t have a choice!” You snap, the words that you’d wanted to say the day you told them you were moving to California tumbling out of your mouth. “If I were the one who’d flunked out of college there’s no way you would’ve let me behave like this! You think my first year was easy? Sometimes it was really fucking difficult but I didn’t have the security of a safety net, of anyone to catch me when I fall. I don’t have the luxury of being able to fall apart, I never have.”

“Y/N-”

“He needs an intervention. He needs you both to stop tiptoeing around him. He needs a fucking reality check. He needs-”

“What else do I need, Y/N?”

Your blood runs cold as you hear your brother’s icy voice from behind you, and you slowly turn to face him. It still hits you even now just unrecognisable Brandon has become. You’ve always been jealous of how bright he is, how other people are always drawn to him. The difference between you now is stark, as if you’d stolen the light from him. As you glance at your Moms’, you realise that neither of them is going to say anything to Brandon. Kate had been right, if he did try to physically hurt them, they could easily stop him. That wasn’t what they were afraid of though. They were afraid of him turning his back on them. Even now, even when he was making their lives so difficult and stressing them out to the point where Wanda had been crying when you got home, they still wouldn’t dare stand up to their precious boy.

Nothing was ever going to change.

“You need,” You say in the calmest voice you can manage, “To get a fucking grip Brandon. Vanessa broke up with you. Big fucking deal. People break up all the time. You should’ve gone out for a couple of drinks with your friends and then gotten a grip.”

“You have no idea how hard it was for me-”

“It wasn’t hard for you! It was never hard for you. You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking spoon your entire life and the moment you were faced with a real problem you made it everyone else’s problem.” Your voice is still quiet but cold and firm. “Our Moms’ would do anything for you, anything at all. And this is how you repay them? Smashing up their house, making them miserable in their own home-”

“What the fuck would you know about it, Y/N? You think you’re so much better than me for sticking it out at college but you’re doing creative writing. You’re never going to do anything with that-”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but at least I’m doing something Brandon. You’re a loser bumming off the Moms’ and what have you got to show for it? No girlfriend, no friends, no job, nothing.”

“I’m a loser? I’m a loser? I had way more friends than you in school, you were the one that the other kids made fun of, that-”

“We’re not kids anymore, you fucking baby!” You snap. “You need to grow the fuck up and-”

What happens next happens so quickly that you barely have time to register it. Brandon, holding his fist up, moving towards you, and you flinching away. A flash of bright red light, a scream and when you open your eyes again, Brandon is crumpled on the floor, both of your Moms’ staring at him, Natasha shocked but Wanda’s face set in cold, hard anger.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on your sister,” Wanda practically hisses. “She’s right. We’ve tiptoed around you for too long and it’s not doing you any favours. Me and your Mama have been waiting patiently for your anger to subside, but you’ve gone too far now. We don’t hurt each other in this house. Me and your Mom have been letting you hurt us for too long but I won't let you hurt your sister.”

Brandon glares at her, “Mom-”

“You can’t stay here anymore,” Wanda says. “I won’t have the worry of you potentially hurting your sister hanging over my head while she’s here.”

“Are you- You’re really going to pick her over me?” Neither of your Moms’ says anything and Brandon’s nostrils flare with irritation, “Where the Hell am I supposed to go?”

“We’ve been giving you money for months,” Natasha says, her own voice cold and hard. “If you’ve wasted it, that sounds like your problem.”

“You’re a smart boy, Brandon,” Wanda says. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

There’s a long, tense moment of silence before Brandon climbs to his feet, his eyes blazing as he storms out, slamming the door so loudly behind him that the entire house shakes. Wanda turns to you, reaching out to place a hand on your arm, “Baby… Are you okay?”

You nod, dumbfounded, “You… You didn’t have to do that. I’m going away with Kate tomorrow. She has a holiday home, I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks-”

“We did have to do that,” Natasha says quietly. She looks at Wanda then runs a hand through her red hair, “We did. Fuck.”

“I didn’t realise that you thought…” Wanda lets her voice trail off, her hand moving to your face to cup your cheek. “Y/N, I didn’t… We never meant to…”

“Have you been okay?” Natasha asks, moving to stand on your other side. “At college? How have you been paying for everything?”

You swallow hard and then mumble, “Tony sends me an allowance every month.”

Wanda’s eyes water, “Tony. Of course.”

“And you’ve been alright?” Natasha persists. “You haven’t… Have you struggled with anything? Assignments or boy problems or friends-”

“You both know I have a girlfriend so no, no boy problems…”

“I didn’t even know that you liked-” Wanda has to look away.

Natasha just nods, “You said you’re going away for a couple of weeks? Do you want me to help you pack?”

You hesitate but figure that the distraction of packing your suitcase will be better for all of you than sitting there brooding on Brandon, everything he’s done and where he might be right now. So you nod, leading your Moms’ upstairs, Natasha walking stiffly with her fists clenched, Wanda with tears starting to silently trickle down her cheeks again.

Wanda sits down on your bed whilst Natasha pulls out your suitcase, opening it on the bed and then looking around, “Where’s she taking you?”

“Vermont,” You answer.

Wanda looks at you, “Kate… She… You like her? She treats you well?”

You nod, giving her a small, sad smile, “Yeah. She’s… I really like her.”

“Do you have a picture of her?” Natasha asks.

You hesitate. You hadn’t shown them a picture of Kate or gone into any details about her but you feel like you can’t deny them this after everything that happens, especially since you’re going away with her for two weeks. So you take out your phone and show your Moms’ your lock screen, a selfie of you and Kate where Kate’s sticking her tongue out and squishing your cheeks between her fingers. Wanda smiles, “She’s pretty. What is she studying?”

“Business Studies, her Mom wants her to take over her business someday.”

Both of them continue asking questions about her and you answer easily as you and Natasha work on packing your suitcase. Wanda eventually smiles through her tears when you recount another story of Kate doing something ridiculous just because she’d been dared to, and Natasha actually laughs. Eventually you stand back, looking at your fully packed suitcase and say quietly, “I do think he needs help.”

Natasha and Wanda glance at each other before Natasha nods, “I know. I know he does.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay tonight?”

“He’ll manage one night. No doubt he’ll be back here tomorrow and then…” Natasha hesitates. “We’ll look up AA meetings. Or get counselling or… Something. He’s underage so I know he shouldn’t be but…”

“It’s time he got a job,” Wanda says. “You’re right; we let him wallow around in self-pity for eight months. Enough’s enough.”

You purse your lips together, looking between them both, “I love you both but…”

“I know,” Natasha says quietly. “We know.”

“Can we call while you’re away?” Wanda asks. “We tried while you were at college but you never answered and you never called back. We thought… We thought maybe you didn’t want to talk to us.”

“I did want to talk to you,” You admit. “I just… I wanted you to try. To try harder. To prove that you loved me.”

Natasha’s face falls and she pulls you into her arms, “Oh Y/N… Of course we love you.”

“Not as much as Brandon though,” You mumble into her shoulder.

Natasha shakes her head and closes her eyes, “No. That’s not true. We’ve always loved you the same. I know it didn’t always feel like that. We messed up so many things Y/N but please don’t ever think we loved you less. I swear we didn’t. You’re our special girl.”

You don’t say anything and Wanda stands up to join in the hug too. Both your Moms’ tuck you between them, both holding you tightly. You can’t remember them ever doing this for you when you were a kid. Natasha presses a kiss to the top of your head and you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to finally accept comfort from both of your Moms’.

You don’t forgive them for everything that happened when you were little. When you go back to college, you’re not sure if you will answer their calls. You’ll probably answer while you’re in Vermont, just to make sure Brandon hasn’t done anything too crazy while you’ve been away. But what matters the most is that you’re not that upset little girl anymore.

You linger awkwardly in the doorway to the medbay as the medics work hard at patching up Kate. She looks rough – Clint had found her just in time after Kate had been missing for eight weeks. Any length of time missing in action is bad, but this was the longest that any Avenger had been untraceable for. Now she was malnourished, badly dehydrated and littered in cuts and bruises. When Clint had lifted her up into his arms, she’d barely registered him or that she was being moved.

Tony puts a hand on your shoulder, “I know you feel uncomfortable about this. But it’s the easiest way.”

You nudge him off your shoulder, the guilt rising in your stomach as you remember why you’re here. Not to support Kate, not to be her friend, but to use your power to shift through her memories, to see what happened to her while she was away. Tony might say it was the easiest way but for who exactly? Kate? You doubted it – this was her trauma and you were going to delve into it without her permission or knowledge. Easier for Tony no doubt to hear the information second-hand from you. There was a reason he hadn’t told Steve about this, knowing the Captain would chew him out if he knew.

You’d protested when Tony had asked but had agreed, probably far quicker than you ought to have. Because a dark, twisted part of you needed to know what happened while Kate was away. You wanted to memorise the faces of the people that had done this to her and hunt them down one by one. If anyone was going to find out what happened, you wanted it to be you. You wanted to be the first, the one who knew every gruesome detail. You wanted to take on the burden of Kate’s pain. Tony might be in this for himself but it would be easier for Kate not to have to relive the traumatic events that had occurred. That was what you’d told yourself anyway.

By the time you’re allowed inside Kate is asleep, hooked up to machines and looking peaceful despite the dark bruises on her face. Tony takes a step into the room but one hard glare from you has him holding his hands up and backing out quickly, leaving you to your work. You turn your attention back down to Kate, running your fingers gently over her forehead to brush a strand of dark hair out of her face. Your gaze turns to her lips, remembering the fairytales you’d read as a child. Maybe one kiss would be enough to fix all of this mess-

You quickly look away, your cheeks burning. Kate wasn’t your girlfriend. Not that it stopped you from thinking about her every hour of the day, glancing at her constantly during training, volunteering first whenever she was looking for a sparring buddy, making sure you sat next to her at the dinner table, or laughing the loudest at all of her jokes, including the particularly cheesy ones. Your infatuation for Kate hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone except for Kate herself apparently. Unless she just didn’t like you like that but hadn’t wanted to hurt your feelings.

Sometimes though, you’d catch her looking at you, see the way her eyes would quickly swivel away when you caught her gaze, and how she’d wipe her hands on her pants, and you’d wonder if maybe… There was something there after all. Not that it mattered, neither of you was brave enough to make the first move.

Kate was always getting herself into trouble and this wasn’t any exception. As you press your fingers to the side of her head, you’re instantly flooded with her memories – how she’d approached a gang of criminals without any back-up, nobody any the wiser that Kate had intended to do that, how they’d outnumbered her easily, carried her back to their lair. Then the torture began.

It was difficult, but you forced yourself to watch as Kate valiantly refused to give away any information despite what they did to her. It had been horrendous and Kate had screamed and cried, but whenever they began to question her again she’d just purse her lips together and breathe through her nose, fighting the pain, refusing to give anything away. For four weeks she hadn’t cracked until one day, they’d tried a different tactic. One of the men walked into the room and Kate braced herself for the usual blows, for the pain to begin, but they merely held something up for her to see. Kate’s eyes had blinked, slowly coming into focus until they’d landed on a necklace in his hand. Your necklace.

You’d had to come out of her memory for a moment, gently touching the necklace around your neck, the one that you wore every single day without fail, even on the battlefield. It hadn’t been yours – the one the man had been holding. You’d have known if it had gone missing. A good replica maybe, but it definitely hadn’t been your necklace. You look down at Kate’s sleeping face, watching the way her chest slowly rises and falls, before slowly placing your fingers on the side of her head again, letting the memories filter into your own brain.

You’d been young when you’d realised you’d possessed this ability. Your fingers had touched your younger brother’s head while he slept, and your own head had been invaded by his memories, seeing the world through his eyes. It had been difficult to sift through them at first, but you’d taught yourself, secretly practicing on your family every night. One day you’d tried when your Mom was awake, just to see if you could, and she’d pushed you off her, clutching her head in her hands. The look on her face when she realised what you could do would be burned into your brain forever. They didn’t trust you after that. You were locked in your room each night, your power a dirty secret. It had taken you years to admit your abilities to the Avengers.

Your mind focuses on the necklace in the masked assailants’ hand, his voice coming through clearly into your own head, “We have Y/N. If you do not answer our questions… Let’s just say it will end badly for her.”

Kate had taken a deep breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly before rasping out, “I don’t believe you.”

“That is up to you. It’s your choice to make.”

Kate had folded, almost instantly. All their questions had been answered but they still hadn’t set her free. It seemed they almost delighted in tormenting her. Maybe they had a personal vendetta against her, maybe against the Avengers, or maybe they were just evil. One afternoon her captors had taunted her, “It’s your choice Kate Bishop. We can either hurt you, or we can hurt Y/N. What do you want to-”

“Me,” Kate had hissed through her teeth without hesitation. “Hurt me. Just… Leave her alone. Let her go, I told you everything you wanted to know. Please leave her alone. Please.”

Kate had endured torture for weeks, believing she’d been protecting you, unaware that you’d been safe and sound at the Avengers compound the entire time.

When they discovered Kate had managed to cut through one of her bonds, they’d threatened to go to ‘your cell’, to terminate you for her insolence. Kate had cried and begged for your life, so hard that she’d nearly vomited up the little food she had in her system. They’d retightened her restraints and had warned her not to try again or you would suffer. Kate didn’t make any more attempts to escape.

Eventually Kate’s captors had grown tired of their torment and had disappeared, leaving her alone with no food or water for two full days. Kate had been strapped down, unable to move, too weak to even call out for help. If Clint hadn’t found her when he had, she would surely be dead.

Your eyes burn as you remove your hand from her head, your vision returning to the present, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Kate’s chest. Part of you knows deep-down that Kate would’ve been hurt regardless but to know that she bore the pain in an attempt to protect you makes your heart twist painfully. Your hand drops down to her arm, running your fingers down it as softly as possible before taking her hand in yours.

Why had they used you? The obvious choice for blackmailing Kate would’ve been to pretend they had Clint. Maybe they didn’t have anything easily identifiable as his, but Yelena would’ve been an easy choice too - everyone knows how close Kate is to Natasha’s sister. Or even her beloved dog, Lucky. They could’ve picked any of the Avengers, but they’d chosen you. And Kate had crumbled instantly.

“Thank you,” You whisper, knowing that Kate can’t hear you but wanting to tell her anyway. “You shouldn’t have done that but… I would’ve done the same for you. In a heartbeat.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Tony says, running a hand through his hair. “One less thing to worry about. We’re obviously still in the process of trying to find them, but at least we know Kate didn’t give anything away.”

You’re sat opposite Tony in his office, having just given him an edited account of what happened to Kate during her captivity. Although you hadn’t downplayed any of the suffering that Kate went through, you’d omitted the parts where they’d lied to her, had convinced her you were being held captive too. Hadn’t told him that Kate had answered all of their questions, and they’d continued to torment her anyway. In your version, Kate refused until eventually the gang gave up and left her for dead.

You’d find them long before the Avengers did. Although they were masked in Kate’s memories, you’d managed to sift through and find enough identifiable details to track most of them down, which would surely lead you to the rest. And when you found them, their deaths would be slow and painful. Kate’s torture would be a drop in the ocean compared to what you had planned for them.

“I’m not doing that again,” You tell Tony. “If this happens to anyone else, you ask them what happened, or we ask for their permission if it’s too painful for them to discuss. It was a violation and you’re never to ask Kate about it.”

Tony simply nods, watching thoughtfully as you stand and leave his office.

Nobody asks Kate about what happened, and she doesn’t offer any information. At first, you’d worried that Kate would panic, would insist on telling everyone the secrets that she’d told the masked assailants, to let them know finding them should be a priority. But she hadn’t. You’d kept an eye on all internet forums, particularly on the dark web, but everything remained quiet. Whatever they planned to do with the information they’d obtained from Kate, they hadn’t leaked it yet. Not that it mattered – they’d soon be dead anyway, the secrets dying with them.

One evening you keep Kate company while the others are busy, playing a board game with her. Your counter is only a few places away from the end when Kate says quietly, “I know you know.”

You avoid her gaze, slowly picking up the dice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I thought you were- But- You were here the whole time, weren’t you?” You hesitate, keeping your gaze on the board game in front of you before you nod, just once. Kate’s own gaze drops to the blanket covering her legs as she fidgets, “I… I hoped that was the case.”

You swallow hard, “But you still didn’t risk it.”

Kate shakes her head and replies in a soft voice, “No.”

You both sit there in silence for a long moment, neither of you making a move to continue your game before you eventually ask, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you ask them for more proof?”

“I’d already lost track of how long I was there and… I was pretty out of it, I was so hungry and tired, and my throat was aching with thirst, everything hurt and… Because it didn’t matter. If there was even a chance that you could’ve gotten hurt, I wasn’t going to risk it.”

“Kate-”

“You would’ve done the same and you know it.”

“I don’t-”

“How long are we going to skirt around this, Y/N?”

Your gaze flicks up to meet hers and there it is – the looks you’ve been giving her reflected in Kate’s own eyes. The longing, the yearning. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry, “I don’t know if now is the right time-”

“I nearly died Y/N. If this isn’t the right time then I don’t know when is.” Kate reaches out and takes your hand in hers, “Please. You know how I feel about you. You saw it.”

“You- You would’ve done that for anyone.”

“Offered to be hurt to spare someone else? Probably, yeah. But I wouldn’t have sold our secrets out like that. Yelena would kick my ass if she knew how quickly I caved.”

“You didn’t cave quickly though. That’s why they knew they needed to change their tactic.” You squeeze her hand, careful not to apply too much pressure in case you accidentally hurt her. “I just don’t understand why they picked me.”

“Because you’re my biggest weakness Y/N, and they knew it. Knew it even before I did. If it had been Clint or Yelena or any other Avenger in that room, I would’ve held onto those secrets, and not because I think you can’t handle your own, but because I just couldn’t risk it. If it had been anyone else, I would’ve called their bluff but you… God, you…”

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you lean forward and kiss her, relief flooding through your veins when she immediately kisses you back. One of your hands cups her cheek, your other arm moving around her waist, making sure to be careful, so careful because Kate’s still hurt and because you’ve waited so long for this, you want it to be gentle, to be loving. It’s everything you could’ve hoped for, and although it’s slow and soft, it’s also full of longing. The longing you’ve both been feeling for so long, finally coming to the surface.

When you pull away, you lean your forehead against hers, “You still shouldn’t have done that.”

“You can tell me off when I’m feeling better.”

“I wish I had healing powers instead of these stupid ones. Seeing you hurt fucking kills me.” You press a kiss to the back of her hand. “I wish I’d been the one to find you.”

“You’re here now. And you know everything and… You didn’t rat me out.” Kate’s eyes are teary and she blinks quickly. “Everyone’s going to be so mad when they find out. I told them so much-”

“It’s fine,” You tell her quietly. “I already told Tony. He said to keep it between us for now, that he’ll figure it out with Fury, but… You were under a lot of pressure Kate. Please don’t feel bad. He’s not mad at you and nobody else needs to know except for us, okay?”

The lie was worth it just to see the relieved expression on Kate’s face.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” Kate asks.

You hesitate, “I uh… I’ve actually been assigned a mission that begins tomorrow.”

Another lie. You’d requested a week of last minute personal leave which Tony had granted without question; probably still feeling bad for making you sift through Kate’s memories. You were going to begin your hunt, find those motherfuckers one by one until they were all dead. They’d chosen to use you to get to Kate – you weren’t about to let them get away with that.

Kate looks disappointed and you lean over to press another kiss to her lips, “I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll pick us up some ‘Bad Pizza’ and then we can watch a movie together. Maybe you’ll feel well enough by then to leave the medbay and we could… Maybe we could spend the night in my room.”

Kate feels her cheeks heat up at the thought and she can only nod mutely. It makes you smile and you can’t resist kissing her again.  “Are you mad?”

“About what?” Kate asks breathlessly against your lips.

“That I looked through your memories.”

“I can’t say I’m thrilled,” Kate admits. “But I’m glad it was you.”

“I only looked at the last few weeks,” You mumble in between giving her more quick kisses. “I promise.”

Exhaustion catches up with Kate and you help her lie down, fussing over her pillow, the blanket, making sure she’s as comfortable as possible before kissing her again. Kate gives you a small, drowsy smile as she allows her eyes to close. You sit by her bed, stroking her hair to help her drift off to sleep, your eyes burning as you remember your plan for tomorrow and the next few days.