[the hand on her arm is warm, and it surprises wanda over and over how easy it is to feel something that isn't visceral contempt against her—like all those people from westview feel towards her. in many ways, she appreciated monica's understanding of her situation, but this is sam, she's known sam for a long time, and it's the honesty of his feelings that rupture the wall she's put up to protect herself from this topic in specific.

her eyes well with tears, but wanda is quick to dry them with the back of her hand. her voice is quiet, sound barely formed, the thickness of her sorrow catching in her throat.]

It's okay.

[and she swallows.

vision is gone, forever, nevermind there is a duplicate of him somewhere in the world now—honestly? wanda could care less for it. it's not her vision, and their goodbyes had already been said in wakanda, cemented in that small moment in westview.

wanda reaches to hold the hand on her arm, holding tight, like she's afraid of pushing away one of the very few who root for her no matter what.]

S.W.O.R.D. had taken his body, you know? Dismantled it, because the material he was made of was too expensive to just bury. [she cannot understand how tony stark and bruce banner could have allowed that—but she cannot question a dead man who had other priorities after the world went to shit.] But the Avengers don't get to be upset at the sacrifices we make for the benefit of the world.

[—she doesn't mean westview, but what she had to lose by vision's death. what of pepper? of tony's daughter? what of all their losses, and how broken up they all are?]

And now we're here, with all sorts of... things happening, a responsibility to save the worlds we come from. [she shakes her head.] All I wanted was to have a home, and maybe a dumb picket fence and — and kids, and...

[she's crumbling again, thinking about this. her lower lip trembles.]

I'm tired, Sam.