Chapter Text
Wanda Maximoff sinks to the floor, her back against the wall behind her, her ears ringing and her palms sweating. The words replay again and again in her head, her mind racing as she realises what the doctors have told her.
Pietro.
Crystal.
Car crash.
No survivors.
"Miss Maximoff," The doctor kneels beside her, concern in his eyes. "I am so sorry for your loss."
"W-What..." She trails off, knowing the question on her mind, but she can barely form the words, too terrified to know. "What about Luna?" She asks, her voice breaking at the thought of her niece being hurt.
"It appears Luna is with a friend of Pietro's. She was not there."
Relief floods her for a split second, grateful that Luna was still here, that she is safe, but then guilt flows through her at being relieved, and she wonders whether her poor niece would be better off with her parents. Her parents are now dead.
Her brother is dead.
The day had started like any other. She had woken up and spoken to Pietro on the phone for five minutes, with him teasing her and her having to rush off to go to work before she was late. She'd gone to work, worked late like she usually does, and then gone home, settling on the couch with a glass of wine.
A call had come through on her phone, and when she had answered it, a nurse at the hospital informed her that her brother and his wife had been in some kind of car accident and that Wanda needed to get to the hospital.
She'd raced there still in her sleeping clothes, her feet only in a pair of fluffy slipper boots that she would be embarrassed about if she was in another situation.
She was too late.
They were already gone.
Some dickhead decided it would be a good day to drive whilst high on god knows what, speeding down the street and colliding into Pietro and Crystal's car at a red light. The driver died on the impact, a fact Wanda couldn't care less about, but her brother and Crystal had been alive when the ambulance came.
Her brother had mustered the strength to call an ambulance, and when the paramedics came, he insisted they see Crystal first, but it didn't matter. By the time they were in the ambulance, Crystal had died, and no amount of resuscitation could help.
When they'd called her, Pietro was alive, but within the fifteen minutes it took for her to get to the hospital, he had died, and she despises every minute she spent in traffic that meant she lost precious seconds with him.
Now he is gone.
Her brother is dead.
And she is alone, curled up in a hospital corridor staring at a wall, her whole body numb, unable to believe that her brother, her best friend, her protector, her comfort, the one person in the world who has ever loved her without condition and understood her and kept her safe...is dead.
The doctors and nurses whizz past her as minutes turn into hours, and she spends her time unmoving, staring ahead of her. Her legs feel like jelly, and she doesn't trust herself to move, but she does turn her head when she hears someone calling her name.
"Wanda!"
When she looks up, she sees her best friend running up the hall with a bag in one hand and her handbag in the other, both hanging loosely by her side. Her hair is as frazzled as Wanda's, though she is wearing an elegant dress and heels that lead Wanda to believe she must have been out or on a date before she came.
"Wanda," Her friend says again, stopping in front of her and sinking to her knees. "I'm so sorry it took me fucking forever to get here. Steve and I went to the movies; I have only just seen my phone! Steve is parking the car now but I had to see you."
She remembers sending a text to her friend telling her that Pietro and Crystal were in an accident, but she hasn't sent one since meaning her friends have no idea what has happened.
They don't know that they are both dead.
"What happened?" She asks, placing the bag she had in front of her. "You asked me for clothes in case you had to stay the night with them, so they're here...Where are they?"
"Nat," Wanda whispers, wrapping her arms around herself. "I...Pietro..." She trails off. "Crystal...Pietro is...They're both...They're both dead."
The word makes a tear fall down her face, the words finally sinking in, and the realisation hits her. They're not coming back. They will never see her again, they will never see their daughter again, never tuck her in or tell her they love her or hug her or-
"D-dead?" Natasha's eyes widen in shock. "I-What happened? What happened? W-What happened?" She asks repeatedly, as if she can't quite believe it, and she sinks into the floor just as Wanda has.
"Driver hit them, and they both died..." Wanda brings her knees to her chest, hugging them close. "Pietro's dead. Pietro is...Pietro's dead." She whispers, and a sob escapes her. "Nat, he's gone. He's...dead, I-"
"I know," Nat quickly brings her into a hug, rubbing her back as Wanda sobs into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Wanda...I...Where is Luna?" She asks worriedly. "Is she okay?"
Wanda nods into her, "She's with Clint I think. They just said a friend, I-I don't know, I don't know anything, I just...I know she's safe, that's all." She admits, ashamed that she is only thinking of herself. "Oh God, Nat, she's only four months old...She's too young!"
"I know," She repeats. "Don't worry, Steve and I will pick her up tonight when we take you home." She promises.
She shakes her head, "I need to do something, they said I need to collect their things or...I don't know...I can't think."
"It's okay," Natasha says, even if it is anything but okay. "It's okay. We'll figure it out together." She swears, glancing up when Steve rushes down the hall to meet them.
His eyes are wide and panicked, and all she has to do is shake her head for Steve to realise the crying Wanda on the floor and sombre atmosphere can only mean one thing. He deflates as he realises, his hands going through his hair, "No." He whispers, shaking his head.
"Steve..." She starts, her hand rubbing up and down Wanda's back. "We're going to take Wanda home in a bit, collect Luna, and I think we should stay with her tonight."
He nods, having thought the same thing. "Of course." He agrees, moving to kneel by Wanda, and when she lifts her head, his heart breaks at the tears streaming down her face. "Wanda, I am so sorry."
"Please don't." She whispers, her voice breaking. "Just don't say sorry. Just don't...say anything, please."
Words will change nothing.
Her brother should be beside her, laughing and joking about a near miss. He was only twenty-four, not even two years married with a four-month-old baby girl. He had everything going for him, a whole life to live and a future to carve out. He should be here.
His daughter is only four months old, she can just about hold her head up, and now she is going to live her life without her parents, an orphan before she is even a year old.
Their parents are dead, they have no blood relatives, and no one left. They only had each other, and then Crystal and Luna. But now, they're gone, and she has no one.
Parent's dead.
Brother dead.
Just her.
Luna has no one too. Luna only has her, a twenty-four-year-old doctor's receptionist who can just about afford her one-bedroom apartment in a somewhat decent area in New York.
She only has a woman whose only culinary dish is paprikash, and who only washes her clothes once a week when she runs out of clean ones, and who still parties with her friend's until the early hours of the morning.
Luna is all she has left of her brother, and the only family she has left in the world, the only person in the world who matters to her now. She has to keep going, not for her, but for Luna, the little girl she promised to protect if anything ever happened to Pietro and Crystal.
Of course, she never thought she would have to follow through on that promise.
She never thought she would have to do it alone, she never thought she would have to care for her niece, be the only person in her life. She always saw Crystal teaching her everything, with Wanda only chiming in every so often as the single aunt who goes on holiday and brings back presents. She saw Pietro and Crystal raising her and a couple of children together, growing old together as Wanda watched with joy in her eyes.
That could never happen now. Her brother begged Wanda to take responsibility for Luna if he ever died or Crystal, or both. He begged her to, and she had agreed reluctantly, not liking the idea of tempting fate.
She was right to be wary.
Pietro had made her agree, made her sign documents and written it in his will – something he only came up with when he got married, aware that someone would care if he died as if Wanda didn't. He had stated he wanted Luna to go to Wanda, for Wanda to raise her as her own, to be her mother until the day she could tell her the truth.
He wanted his daughter to have a mother, no matter what. He never wanted her to think she had no parent. Wanda understands. They both knew what it was like growing up with no parents. She had agreed, promising her brother on the day Luna was born that if she had to if they died and Luna was still young enough to not understand, that she would become her mother.
She wishes she had never said yes.
At the time, the thought was daunting enough. Now, she is faced with the situation, and she knows she has to follow through, not wanting to go against her now...dead brother's wishes. It was the only thing he has ever asked of her. She will do as she promised.
Luna is all she has.
Wanda is all Luna has.
They only have each other now.
When she collects Pietro and Crystal's things from the nurse's desk, she is given Crystal's handbag, but she doesn't open it, only holds it close. Pietro's keys and wallet are given to her, and her hands shake when she glances in his wallet to see a photo of them as children, only ten years old at home in their beloved Sokovia.
Two days after that photo was taken, her parents died, and in a cruel twist of fate, she realises that they also died in a tragic car accident. She wonders if it is just a theme, for Maximoff children to lose their parents in car collisions, and she fears her untimely demise isn't too far away.
She strokes her finger over a young Pietro's face, closing her eyes as she recalls her time with her parents, the comfort she took in them, and the loss of them, and now the loss of Pietro.
Her parents speak Sokovian to each other as her father walks in the door, a suitcase full of DVDs under his arm.
"Papa!" A ten-year-old Pietro scolds, greeting his father with a hug, though he steps away when his father kisses his hair, "You said the only rule of TV night is we try to practice our English."
"Yeah." Their mother smirks. "Yes, he is right."
"We were just making rid of last little bit of Sokovian." Her father promises. "Where is your sister?"
Pietro rolls his eyes, turning to face the ten-year-old Wanda as she runs into the room, "Wanda?
Their father smiles, kissing her head as a greeting, "Now we can begin." He says, opening his suitcase to show Wanda all of the TV shows inside, her eyes lighting up at the sight. "Wanda, you pick."
Wanda scrunches up her nose, tilting her head, "My pick isn't here."
Her father clicks his fingers, "I have forgot!" He goes to a safe, pulling out the Dick Van Dyke show DVD case. "I put it in the special place for extra safekeeping." He realises, passing her the case. "This is your pick, yes?"
She nods, "Season 2, Episode 21."
Pietro rolls his eyes, settling on the floor with Wanda, "Dick Van Dyke again? Always 'sitcom, sitcom, sitcom…' The Walnut episode!"
Wanda giggles, "Yes, Rob and Laura have for the most fun shenanigans."
Her brother tilts his head in confusion, "What is "shenanigan" again?"
She tuts before explaining simply, "Shenanigan is like problem, but more silly than scary, but can sometimes be a little scary. Yeah, like mischief. But a silly mischief that always becomes fine."
Their mother smiles down at them from her place on the couch, curled up with their father comfortably, "Okay, Papa, start it for us."
The TV is turned on, and Wanda is giggling within minutes. Her mother grins, quickly grabbing a small camera, the only one they own, and she snaps a photo of her children watching. "Wanda, Pietro, turn." She requests.
They both groan, but comply, grinning overdramatically to their mother. Pietro sticks out his tongue, and Wanda gives two thumbs up just as she clicks to take the photo.
Now that photo is still in his wallet, torn and old, but intact. He kept it for all of these years, a piece of their parents, a piece of their home, a piece of Sokovia. And now he is gone too, and it is the piece of him she has left that he kept, never parting with it, carrying it every day of his life.
"Wanda," Natasha's voice brings her back to the present. "C'mon, we should go now."
She nods numbly, taking her brother and Crystal's things before Steve moves to carry them for her. The only thing she keeps is her brother's wallet, staring at the photo as she walks down the corridor and out to the car.
The world is a blur to her, and she doesn't do so much as look up when she feels the car stop. She hears Natasha mention Luna, and she knows they are at Clint's to collect her.
They don't make her do it, thankfully. Natasha goes inside whilst Steve stays with her, his eyes sad when he turns from the driver's seat to see her in the back, still staring at the photo.
"I'll go and pick up your car from the hospital tomorrow." He says as if it matters. She had forgotten she ever left it in the first place. "Nat and I will stay on your couch tonight, help you with Luna."
She nods.
"You have a crib for her right?" He questions, knowing Wanda has babysat for her on many occasions.
She nods.
"Okay...That's good." He comments. "Nat and I will keep an eye on her, let you sleep...We'll stay as long as you want."
She nods again.
Natasha comes back with Luna asleep in her car seat, bringing her into the car. She doesn't put her next to Wanda; not wanting Wanda to have to face the little girl that looks so much like her now passed brother. She puts her by her feet, making sure she is safe before they drive off again.
When she gets into her apartment, she merely stumbles to bed, clutching her brother's wallet to her chest tightly.
The moment she sits on her bed, she hears it.
Luna cries.
No, not cries.
Luna screams.
And she is up, dropping the wallet and running out to her living room to see a wailing Luna in Natasha's arms. "Give her here." She requests abruptly, taking her niece from her friend. "Sh, it's okay Luna." She whispers.
The baby in her arms calms in seconds. She knows Wanda, Wanda loves her, and she's safe in Wanda's arms no matter what.
"It's okay." She whispers again, repeating the words as she walks back into her bedroom, her hand stroking Luna's dark curls. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." She promises, brushing a kiss to her head.
No matter what happens, Wanda knows that will never change. Luna is hers now, hers to care for and love and raise as her own. It does not matter how she feels now, or how all she wants to do is sleep. Luna needs her, she needs her to be strong and capable and be her mother, just as Pietro begged her to.
She cannot be Pietro's sister who falls apart. She cannot be the aunt who ignores her or only does half of her duties. She has to be the person her brother asked her to be, no matter how badly it hurts her heart or how foreign the words will feel to her.
She has to be her mother.
Luna whimpers against her when she tries to put her in the crib at the end of her bed, and so she stands tall again, not wanting to upset her.
Wanda sits on her bed again, her back against her headboard and Luna curled up on her chest. "We can do this." She whispers though she is uncertain. Luna needs to hear it, even if she doesn't understand. "You and me, munch...I promise I'm not going to fall apart. I'm going to try really hard."
Her niece looks up at her, her blue eyes bright and wide.
"I made your dad a promise. I am going to keep it, Lun, even if you hate me in fifteen years when you learn the truth." She whispers, her heart clenching painfully. "I'm going to try so hard, harder than you know, to be good at this, to be good...to be a good mom."
There is no response, and when she looks down, she sees that Luna is falling asleep, curled up with her mouth half-open.
"We'll be okay." She sniffles. "You and me, Luna-Buna, we're going to be just fine...We'll be alright." She whispers, a tear falling down her face, and it lands on Luna's head, waking her up from her slumber and making her whimper.
When her whimpers turn into cries, Wanda curls her knees to her chest. "Well," She says, her voice breaking. "If you're going to cry..."
Pressing her forehead against Luna's, she sobs, their cries echoing together into the night.