Azara's pov

A cool breeze sweeps through the otherwise mild twilight. While it was only just gone 6, the day seeps into night much too quickly for my liking at this time of year.

Today was also thanksgiving: another kick in the teeth. In London, it was ok. They don't celebrate thanksgiving over there but instead burn a scarecrow model of a 300 year failed terrorist who nearly bombed the houses of Parliament and have fireworks, sparklers and hotdogs, along with tacky plastic lightsabers and glowstick swords.

But, as I said, it's just another kick in the teeth. I'm sitting on my makeshift bed with the door of my stolen tent wide open. No one can see me but I can see everything: Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State building in the far distance; even Stark Tower.

All is quiet and calm and for the first time in over a year, I can finally breath. Being alone is therapeutic and 'clenses the soul' as an ad on the side of a bus for aloe vera blackhead remover said.

But I miss it. Yes, it's only been a week, but I want to go and apologise to them... again. But I just can't bring myself to.

After another hour or so of just staring out at the city skyline, I merge into the shadow of my tent, hoping to find a 7eleven open.

But I definitely wasn't in a 7eleven. Nor anywhere I'd ever seen before.

I look down the rubble strewn street and see a newsagents sign displaying the words:

Газетные киоски Sokovia
(Sokovia newsagents)

I hear yelling and the screams of children but I'm stuck in my spot; unable to understand just how I got here.

"Wanda, if you're here to help, so be it, if not, get to safely." a man who I recognise to be Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, runs from a nearby shop and doesn't see me.

Wanda.

Wanda!

I run towards where Barton had just existed and am faced with a certain browny-red haired girl I'd grown to know well over the months in HYDRA.

"W-Wanda? Is it you?" I approach warily as I see the flicker of scarlet light fill the dark ruins.

"Azara?" her voice is no louder than a whisper and I pity her curled up and still form on the floor.

"Yeah, it's me, ginger witch," I smile softly at my friend, crouching to her level.

"Y-you remember?" she mirrors what Tony had said in Stark Tower.

"Yeah, you hated that nickname," I laugh softly.

"Yeah, I do, because I'm not ginger," She huff in a failed attempt to appear annoyed.

"How's Speedos?"

Again, she laughs slightly, "Still annoyingly speedy as ever."

We look at each other and I give her a sympathetic smile. We're not fooling each other. We both fell asleep to each others' pained and tortured screams. We both saw the fear in each others' eyes as Strucker came in. We both can still feel a tingle from the electric chair.

I pulled her into my chest as I felt a quiet sob shake through her body. She clung to me like I was about to disappear forever. I couldn't do that to her, not again.

She slowly pulls her head out of my shirt and wipes her tears before looking up at me with an expression of nothing but gratitude. She was there for me when I needed her and now I'm here when she needs me.

After a moments silence, she sighs slightly.

"Either I have to feel as if I'm about to puke or I have to fly through the air, holding on to you for dear life."

"Still haven't mastered your flying yet, ginger witch."

She huffs but nods her head.

"Right, well the real question is: do you want a dramatic entrance or a subtle one?" I smirk knowingly.

"I'm always one for ameteur dramatics, you know that."

"Thine wish is thy command, fair maiden," I stand up and extend a hand to her in faux politeness.

She accepts it with a pretend glare of annoyance.

"Taketh to the sky's, thy mighteth stead." she deadpans, knowing I won't take her if she doesn't play along with my stupid little game sort of thing.

"Humour me, Wanda, humour me." I laugh as we walk out side.

I see a wide grin appear on her face and she laughs as well at my antics. Laughter was incredibly rare in HYDRA and it made me smile as well to hear it. I pick her up bridal-style as my wings extend from my back and my armour melts onto me.

"Well, isn't this... comprising," I smirk as our faces as mere inches apart as she secures her arms around me neck.

"Oh, shut up," she sways my arm lightly as she laughs at my fake flirting and I take off.

Looking around, I spot the main group about 500 meters to my right. I drop down behind them and let Wanda back onto to her feet.

"And you say I'm the dramatic one." she mutters to me.

They all turn at the same time and look wide eyed at the two of us.

"Happy thanksgiving!" I greet them sarcasticly.

"You're back," Tony states wide-eyed.

"Well yes, it appears I am, aren't I?" I inspect my clothing and pick at a loose thread as if they might dematerialise (which would be rather embarrassing if I didn't disappear with them).

"And the wings are back," he states again, in what seems to be an impromptu game of 'say what you see'.

Again, I prod at my wings, "Yes, appears they ar-" the left wing smacks me in the eye and pulls away from me trying to catch it. I chase around in circles in a weak attempt to restrain it, playing a sort of cat-chasing-its-own-tail kinda thing with the rouge wing and the right one pokes me in the ear as I'm distracted.

"No, don't you start now! Your brother's in a lot of trouble when we get home so advise you don't put your foot in it aswell!" I scold the right wing, which droops slightly.

"Oh, no darling, mom didn't mean that, I know your insecure about not having... feet. But I'll always love you anyways," It perks up slightly and lightly nuzzles up to my face.

"Love you too, Righty," at this, my left wing trys snuggle into me too.

"Nuh uh uh," I waggle my finger at him, "you haven't been polite to the new people or said hello." my right wing waves at the slightly perplexed Avengers. Lefty gives as much of a sarcastic and sassy wave as a wing can.

I face back to the group of confused heroes, still well aware of the two of my wings jabbing at each other above my head, the only two who aren't completely perplexed are the Maximoff twins, who had gotten used to our little family squabbles, and just had bemused grins on their faces.

"Sorry about the two of them, they have no manners," they stop squabbling and both give me very pointed and annoyed 'looks' so I make them dematerialise.

"Is she... mentally stable?" Captain America ask warily.

"Probably not but hormones are a bitch."

A silence prevails as all the Avengers look at me still confused.

"Anyhoo... I just came to drop of this one," I jab my thumb in the direction of Wanda.

"Yeah, you certainly dropped me," she mutters but I choose to ignore her.

"I'll be off now." I turn to go but a voice calls me back. Not Tony, not Steve, not even Wanda.

"You know, we could use an extra helping hand around here." the voice of one Natasha Romanoff cuts through the tension.

I turn to face her with a straight face, my humour and sarcasm draining from me as a familiar feeling bubbles in my stomach.

Wanda, from her slightly fearful expression, knows what's happening.

"And why would I help you?" I stalk towards her, Lefty and Righty springing out of my back quickly, and luckily not squabbling, because that would've been incredibly awkward.

"To fight Ultron." she states matter of factly.

"Utra-who now?" I raise a confused eyebrow at her.

She appears to begin to try and formulate an proper explanation before settling with a simple, "a bad guy."

"Right well, I'm one of them too so maybe we can exchange numbers or something."

A convincing poker face hides whatever expression she was thinking but it was probably just an exasperated eye role.

Tony pipes up and gives me a caring look, his helmet now fully away.

"You're not a bad guy, Azara, don't let HYDRA let you believe that. You're strong and confident and are a person who can help so many. You try to hide behind a wall of your own creation, blocking out anyone who tries to help. But we're not HYDRA. We won't hurt you. We won't put you through months of torture. We won't brainwash you. You can be you and we can be your family; your friends."

"Trust them, κόρη (daughter). Their intentions are true."

My mother's words flood my memory and I try hard to disprove them.

I can't bring myself to walk over and join their ranks but I also can bring myself to abandon them fully and insult their seemingly genuine intentions once again.

"Thank you, Tony, thank you." I smile softly before turning and leaving.

Natasha's pov

As she walks away into the unstable, smouldering, rumble, the sense of finality I felt in Stark Tower after Loki wasn't echoed now.

While never in a million years would I thank HYDRA for anything, I'm happy fate has brought us back together again, even if she is a turmoiled, brainwashed, slightly mentally unstable demigod.

But she's back.

I can still see the remiments of Tony's smile from her thank you plastered across his face.

Steve orders us all around per usual and we disperse.

As I'm walking through the streets, my sixth sense picks up someone watching over me. Even in a battle, paranoia is a very really and very irritating thing for me.

That is until I hear a single gunshot headed in my direction.

I instinctively shut my eyes, ready for the inevitable impact, but it never occurs.

I look around and see none other that Azara stumble a few meter down the street, a red-stained bullet wound clearly piercing chest and heart area, her breast plate all but gone.

"N-no! AZARA!" I rush towards her and catch her as she falls, paling quickly by the second.

"B-bet you d-didn't see t-that one c-c-coming." a faint smirk flicks across her purplish lips.

She begins to fade into the shadow of the building and I uselessly try to grab at her fading form to keep her here.

"No... No you c-can't just..."

"You ok there, Romanoff?" Steve's voice on the coms cuts through the eerie silence that had fallen on the street.

"She's d-dead, Steve..." I mumble in a tone full of too much emotion for a Black Widow.

"Who's dead, Natasha?"

"A-Azara. She's dead."

Azara's pov

"Was it really necessary to take a bullet for the pretty girl? You could've just, I don't know, asked her on a date or something." a calm voice, which appears to sound a bit like a playful scold, cuts through the quiet and quickly fading begs of Natasha.

"No... no you c-can't just..."

"Mother?" I ask with a shaky voice.

"Yes, very good Το παιδί μου (my child), very good."

Heyaaaaaa! Cliff hanger there guys ik I'm mean like that. I'm writing this at 2:48 am according to my clock but it's all good cos I really liked this chapter (I mean, apart from the part where she momentarily died).

I also wanted to say sorry to any Greek or Russian speakers because the phrase were translated using the one and only Google translate, so sorry about any inaccuracies.

Lastly, about the timeline: I know she was kidnapped at Christmas and I said them getting sceptre from Sokovia was April time and now it's Thanksgiving so please don't come for me and just ignore it merci beaucoup.

I shoud definitely go to sleep now after a proof read (it's now 3:24 am after said proof read).

Thanks again,

Much love, Shrimpward xx