It took Carol six months to get back to a semblance of who she was before the crash.
After relocating the Skrull in refugee centers across the Galaxy, Carol knew she had to come back home. Home. It was still odd to think about home as a random house in the middle of an unknown area of C-53 (no, Earth). But something was becoming more and more familiar about it, a warm feeling in her chest that bloomed like a soft ember whenever she thought about it, whenever she thought about Maria and Monica, that hadn't been there when she was Kree. That was the first hint of Carol Danvers she recognized.
Monica had nearly toppled her over when she ran full-speed at Carol, not even before her feet could really touch the dirt on the ground. Maria stayed back, leaning against the post on the front porch with her arms loosely crossed, admiring from afar the image of her daughter being twirled around and the blonde's hair spinning with her. When Carol did eventually reach the steps to the house, she looked up at Maria, Monica dangling from her right hip, and smiled softly.
It simultaneously warmed and broke Maria's heart; she saw hints of the Carol she used to know, the Carol she had reached out to for six years with the hope that she might reach back by some miracle. But even now that Carol was right next to her, Maria was still reaching, reaching out to know who this new Carol was, to understand her, to help her get back to the Carol she used to be. Deep down Maria knew that the Carol she used to be was never coming back; far too much happened, and even Maria wasn't the same person she was six years ago. But Vers, Captain Marvel? She was still adjusting to all of that.
When Carol had first asked to stay, she had promised it would only be one week. "I don't want to intrude, I just-"
Maria had cut her off, an edge of hurt in her voice when she responded "Carol, of course. This is your home too."
Carol had responded with a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod, mumbling something about taking the spare room as she avoided Maria's gaze and walked past her to the staircase. Maria didn't follow.
It wasn't until a few weeks in, after Carol had tucked Monica in and, under intense pressure and the consistent begging of the young girl, recounted the story of how just her and Goose had fended off a not-so-small army of Kree fighters on a world lightyears away from there; Maria had been sitting outside, softly kicking her feet as she rocked slowly on the hanging porch swing and listening to the chirping and buzzing of the insects brought to life every Louisiana summer night. She registered the screen door creaking open, the shift in the pattern of the swinging, the air of the presence of another person beside her. Maria didn't turn, didn't want to disturb the peace of the moment that had been so rare to find these days by trying to question Carol again.
"I don't know what's real."
Maria finally did turn at that moment, partially out of surprise that Carol was speaking so openly with her. Still, she didn't say anything, letting the other woman choose if she wanted to stop there or go forward.
After a deep sigh, the blonde looked off into the night scene, fixating on the fireflies waving around in the air. "The Kree...they didn't just erase my memories. They gave me new ones, fake ones. About how I grew up on Hala, how I joined the fight, how the Supreme Intelligence was kind and powerful enough to gift me these powers" she went on, looking down at her hands. "They planted that belief so deep in me...when I was there I couldn't even imagine a different way of life, much less...this" she said, gesturing at everything around them. "Now that I'm getting my memories back...it's not as easy as I thought. This illusion they created in me, they planted it so deep that I can't tell what's real and what's not real. What's me."
Maria took a pause, analyzing the conflict and hurt on Carol's face before turning towards her. "You don't have to do that alone, Carol. You have people here that remember who you are. People who can tell you what's real and not real. Me."
Carol finally met her gaze and held it, for the first time in a while. Maria had missed how kindly those brown eyes held her. "Thank you, Maria." She intertwined their fingers, resting it on the seat of the porch swing. Maria pretended like it didn't affect her the way it did, instead replying with a soft squeeze.
Over the next few months, it would be a back and forth between Maria and Carol. A flash of an image, an idea or a feeling on the tip of Carol's tongue, and she would go to Maria.
"You used to have a longer curls, when Monica was younger. Real or not real?"
Maria let out a sharp laugh, raising her eyebrows as she continued stirring the pancake batter in the bowl. "Jesus, that was a while ago. Yeah, real."
"You looked good with them" Carol admitted, swiping a bit of batter with her finger and sticking it in her mouth like the child she was (Maria let it slide, figuring that if she could fly in space, salmonella was nothing).
"Thanks. What, uh, memory was that, by the way?" She knew she shouldn't pry, but she was grasping at the hope that Carol would remember how they really were back then.
The other woman scrunched her eyebrows, finger still stuck in her mouth as she tried to form a good description for such a brief image. "It was you carrying Monica on your hip, middle of the day, heading back towards the house. I was behind you. It felt...I don't really know how to describe it. It felt like settling into bed, almost. Like, I felt relaxed, and lighter, just watching you both."
Maria stared at her almost incredulously. She didn't know whether she wanted to rejoice or cry, but to avoid either, she looked back down at the bowl and kept whisking.
"Monica was born early, real or not real?"
The sudden interruption of the comfortable silence at the dining table took Maria by surprise a little, before she really registered what Carol was saying. A small smile grew on her lips as she remembered that whirlwind of a day, simultaneously one of the most stressful but absolutely the most rewarding day of her life. "Real. That's why we nicknamed you Lieutenant Trouble" Maria said to her daughter, who just made a slightly annoyed face. She toyed around with the green beans on her plate for a little while before continuing. "You know you were the first one to hold her when she was born."
Carol and Monica let out a simultaneously-shocked "really?" Maria chuckled and nodded. "The doctor at the base's hospital said you could help with the delivery, she guided you and everything. Then she let you cut the cord, and you handed her over to me, but technically you were the first person to ever hold her, not me or the doctor."
The superhero shook her head. "I don't know if I could've done all of that, I feel like I would've been way too nervous about dropping her."
Maria chuckled. "Oh, I didn't say you weren't. You just kept repeating 'take her before I drop her' when you were handing her to me."
Monica laughed and pointed at Carol, who made a face back. Maria noticed how her face softened into a grin as Monica continued giggling softly, and for a split second, things were how they were supposed to be.
A week or so after, Maria found herself laying awake for no particular reason, turned on her side and staring mindlessly at her closet door. She heard soft padding on the floor leading up to her room, and assuming it was Monica, didn't bother to turn. It wasn't until she caught Carol's scent in the sheets next to her, a mixture of the lingering grass from outside and the plastic of her suit, and the sweet scent that was just Carol, that she froze momentarily. She still didn't turn.
"I think I remembered something else."
Maria turned, now face-to-face with the blonde whose features were partially illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the bedside window. "What did you remember?"
She saw how Carol's eyes searched hers, for what she didn't know. "It was you...and me."
It was so vague, yet Maria knew what those words implied. The realization that she had waited for Carol to come to was finally there, in front of her. She so desperately wanted to give Carol that final nudge, the declaration that was she remembered was real, so real. That what they had was real.
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, Carol was already asking her a question.
"You have dimples on your lower back" she stated quietly, like she already knew, like she had seen them. Carol's hand hesitated slightly before sliding under the fabric of her night shirt, pressing into the dimples as if to confirm they were really there. "And you have a birth mark on your hip" she continued, her fingertips traveling below her waistband to across the patch of skin that was barely different from the rest, but held a birthmark that almost resembled a small star. "You like to be kissed there, real or not real?"
The sound of Maria's breath hitching was quiet, but reverberated slightly though the silent room. Her eyes widened, and her lips moved open, but nothing came out. Just when she needed her words the most, nothing came. Just goosebumps along her skin and her heart pounding faster in her chest.
Instead, Carol moved closer to her, the warmth of her breath now mixing with Maria's. With less hesitation, Carol brushed a few strands of Maria's bangs out of her eyes ever-so-gently, and Maria watched as she felt her chest tighten. For someone who could harness the power of suns, Carol could treat her so delicately.
"You love me. Real or not real?"
"Real."