Wanda Maximoff had spent the last few hours enjoying the calm and comfortable air of her charming cottage home. After watching the sunset from one of her large French windows, she curled up on her couch in the living room with a blanket across her lap and a nice warm mug in her hand. After a few sips of her beverage, she decided to pick up work on a rather complicated crocheted blanket she was making, but she’d forgone that by now. With the lighting in her house growing dim, it was getting hard to see. Sure, she had magic she could use to solve that - Wanda’s whole house could be illuminated in scarlet light if she wanted - but the growing darkness wasn’t really a problem and it wasn’t the right time to use her powers anyway.
The crackle of a fire drew her attention, and as she looked up, through her screen-door Wanda saw the bright orange flame in her fire pit slowly dwindle to nothing. Wanda knew that meant he would be coming in soon enough, and just waited patiently until she heard the screen-door swing open and the thump of the archer’s boots against the wood floor.
“Hey, Clint.” Wanda greeted him with a smile.
“Wanda-“ Clint replied, surprised to see she was still out in the living room, and not in her bed. He crumpled a ball of charred tin-foil in his hands, and slipped to the kitchen to drop it off in the trash. Wanda chose not to comment on it at the moment, instead asking how the rest of his day had gone as he made his way back to the living room.
“How’d it go with Kate?” She asked. “Was she a fan of the new training arrangement?” Clint had gone to see Kate early in the morning, and returned mid-afternoon. He’d been outside ever since (he’d been sitting at the fire alone for hours), and this was the first chance Wanda had to catch up with him all day.
“I can’t say that she is.” Clint shook his head, collapsing into the chair beside Wanda’s couch. “But I think it’s for the best. It’s a long drive there and back, I can’t make that every day.”
“I’m sure she’ll adjust. Every other day is good enough.”
Clint nodded. He didn’t seem to be one for starting a conversation tonight - at least with words rather than nods or shakes of his head - so Wanda continued again.
“What’d you eat out there? Did you cook another potato?” She asked, and Clint’s eyes widened. “I saw you out there earlier when you got back, with the fire,” Wanda admitted. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” She had a good guess as to why he was out there. It didn’t need to be said.
Clint gave her a nod as he processed that she saw him, and a moment later he gave her another one to answer the question she’d asked. “Yeah.” He said. “You’ve gotta admit, fire-pit-cooked baked potatoes are pretty good.”
“They are.” Wanda agreed.
“I should have offered to make you one.” Clint told her. He peeked out the screen to see the fire-pit, but the embers had already cooled. “Maybe next time?”
“Sure.” Wanda said with a nod, and another smile. “Only if you start the fire though. I don’t like splinters.”
“Says the woman who grows apple trees.” Clint shook his head, and gave her a bit of a chuckle.
“Valid point.” Wanda told him, laughing back all the same.
Wanda’s had another question for him though. And unlike the previous questions she had, Wanda asked this one hesitantly, with uncertainty that Clint hadn’t seen in a long time.
“What…What do you know about the multiverse?”
Clint took a second to answer. He wasn’t sure where that question came from - it seemed rather out of left-field - but he answered it anyway, his voice about as quiet as Wanda’s had been. “A little.” When prompted for more, Clint added, “I know that Strange has been there somehow, and you’ve been there. I know that there are alternate versions of you and him running around in other worlds. It’s multi-dimensional chaos.” His words were serious. Wanda felt the weight too.
“That is true.” She nodded. “Chaos isn’t even the beginning of it.” Wanda added, looking down to her lap. She played with the bottom of her cardigan, moving the fabric back and forth in her fingers before deciding to look back up at Clint. “Have you ever really thought about it?”
“What do you mean?” Clint asked.
“Have you thought about it?” Wanda asked again.
“No.” Clint said. He hadn’t meant to lie, but he wasn’t telling the truth either. He’d thought about it. He’d thought about it enough to put together the reasons why Wanda and Strange had been able to traverse it. Strange had his orange magic that let him make portals and apparently he’d somehow found a way to open a portal to not just another place or planet but another universe entirely, and Wanda was taken over by the Darkhold; a book of dark magic whose powers still weren’t even fully known and hopefully never would be. Of course she would be able to get there, with or without Stephen’s magical portals.
(This explanation was not how their multiverse travels actually happened. It wasn’t because of Stephen’s portals or even the Darkhold’s control over Wanda that they were able to travel the multiverse, but it was the truth to Clint. Sorcerers and witches being able to open doors to other dimensions was well within a normal thought to have.)
Instead saying the strong and certain accusation that she could have made, Wanda took a deep breath before her next words tumbled out of her mouth. “I could probably have America check in on her for you.” No name needed to be said; Clint knew immediately that Natasha was the “her” Wanda spoke of.
“What?” Clint asked, brows furrowed in a mix of confusion, pain, and alarm. “America?”
Wanda’s expression changed to one of surprise. “Yeah, America. I, uh, found her when the Darkhold kinda… took me over for a bit. She’s a kid with powers… that allow her to travel the multiverse.” Maybe that was a bit too direct, but it was the best way to explain the girl and her powers.
Clint didn’t respond, but his eyes never left Wanda.
“America’s been working with Strange for a few weeks.” Wanda continued. “Wong and I thought it would be best if she learned from a few different people how to access and control her powers. She used to only be able to use them when she was scared, but she’s made some real progress.“
“Just when I thought we’ve seen every superpower in the book.” Clint said, when Wanda had concluded. Clint spoke lightly, but his eyes betrayed him. They were empty. He - and his thoughts - were clearly stuck on something else.
“Asking America to check in on her…” Wanda clarified. “It’s just an idea, if it will help.”
But looking at Clint again, Wanda wasn’t sure that it would, and she regretted suggesting it. Getting involved in the multiverse had caused plenty of problems to say the least, but in the end, it was the multiverse that helped to save her. Who else would she believe when she was told her children would be loved and taken care of but herself? Clint, for sure, but he had been knee deep in his own grief.
Maybe Clint needed to know that Natasha was alive and well in some distant corner of some multiverse. Maybe knowing that she was there would help to ease some kind of pain. make things okay. Wanda wanted Clint to have the opportunity to heal, but maybe involving the multiverse would be pouring salt into a still-gaping wound.
“You know what, it’s a bad idea. Messing with the multiverse-” Wanda spoke again, and jumped up from her seat on the couch to get Clint some water. It was the end of that conversation, and it was time to change the subject.
But she hadn’t expected him to agree.
Wanda spun on her toes when she heard him. His eyes - bright blue and unwavering - were locked onto hers.
“I don’t wanna see anyone else but her.” Clint’s voice carried weight that his volume didn’t.
When Wanda didn’t respond, even after a few beats, Clint thought maybe she hadn’t caught it. Or hadn’t understood it. “I mean, I know it would be her,” Clint wiped his eyes as he spoke, “in the multiverse. But...”
As Clint’s head fell toward his lap, Wanda made her way back to the couch. “It’s not the same?” She sat down beside him again.
“It’s not the same.” He confirmed.
Then Clint smiled - minuscule as it was - as he looked up at her. Even if only for a second, Wanda mistook the tears in his eyes for light. “Am I selfish in thinking that the Natasha in this universe is the best one?” He asked, voice shaking.
Wanda pulled him into a hug. “Not at all.”