"She's back! She's back!"
Scott Lang's shout echoed across the Coruscant landing pad with enough enthusiasm to make several nearby maintenance droids pause in confusion.
"Finally!" Peter Parker added, practically bouncing on his feet. "The band's back together!"
Wanda Maximoff stepped off the Republic transport into a wall of friendly chaos. For a moment—just a moment—she froze, overwhelmed by the sheer muchness of it all. Months of living on Dathomir, surrounded by the measured mysticism of the Nightsisters, had not prepared her for the enthusiastic chaos of the Avengers at full volume.
Then Hope van Dyne and Natasha Romanoff were there, pulling her into a three-way hug that drove the air from her lungs.
"Don't you ever disappear like that again," Natasha said, her voice muffled against Wanda's shoulder.
"We thought—" Hope's voice cracked slightly. "We didn't know if we'd find you."
"I'm here," Wanda managed, her own eyes stinging. "I'm okay. I'm here."
Sam Wilson was next, his embrace warm and solid. "Good to have you back, kid."
Then Rhodey, his war machine armor retracted to reveal the man beneath. "The team wasn't the same without you."
Scott practically lifted her off her feet. "You have no idea how worried we were!"
Steve Rogers's hug was gentler but no less heartfelt. "Welcome home, Wanda."
Vision approached with his characteristic careful grace, his expression carrying warmth that still seemed to surprise him every time he felt it. "Ms. Maximoff. I am... very pleased to see you safe."
"Vision." Wanda's smile was genuine. "It's good to see you too."
She turned to the two members she didn't recognize—though Matt had filled her in during the journey. "You must be Peter," she said to the young man in the spider-themed suit. "I've heard a lot about you."
Peter's eyes widened behind his mask. "You have? About me? That's—wow, okay, I'm definitely not freaking out right now."
"Breathe, kid," Sam called from behind her.
Wanda's attention shifted to the tall, regal figure in Wakandan dress. "Prince T'Challa. It's an honor to finally meet you."
T'Challa inclined his head with diplomatic grace. "The honor is mine, Ms. Maximoff. Your brother speaks very highly of you."
"Matt filled me in on everything during the flight," Wanda explained, noting their curious looks. "Months of updates compressed into one hyperspace journey."
"I did my best," Daredevil said with a slight smile, descending the transport's ramp. "Though I'm sure I missed details."
"You can say that again," Sam said, his attention drifting past Wanda to where Pietro stood with two young girls literally hanging off his arms. "Looks like Quicksilver brought back more than just his sister."
Pietro was in his element, letting Illyana and Merlin take turns swinging from his extended arms while they giggled uncontrollably. "What can I say? I've been searching for my sister for almost a year. You think I wasn't going to make friends along the way?"
Steve approached the trio, and something in his posture shifted—became gentler, more approachable. He knelt to bring himself eye-level with the girls, who immediately stopped playing and stared at him with wide eyes.
"And who are these lovely young ladies?" Steve asked, his voice warm.
Both girls turned bright red and immediately hid behind Pietro, peeking around his legs.
Pietro laughed. "That's Captain America, girls. He's actually a nice guy, despite looking like he could benchpress a truck."
"I would never benchpress a truck," Steve said seriously. "Terrible form. Bad for the back."
Wanda moved to stand beside her brother, gently coaxing the girls out of hiding. She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "These are Illyana and Merlin. They're... well, they're with me now."
"Oh boy," Rhodey said, fighting a smile. "Here we go again."
"Is our place even big enough for more kids?" Sam asked, though his tone was more amused than concerned.
"That seems like a redundant question at this point," Pietro said dryly. "We've got Mara and Grogu. What's two more?"
Hope's grin was absolutely wicked. "So you became a mom while you were gone. Welcome to the club."
"Well," Natasha added with similar mischief, "I guess we should form a parents' support group."
Most of the male Avengers looked thoroughly confused. Scott, in particular, went pale. "What does that even—Hope, we talked about this, remember? The conversation about timing and—"
"Relax, Scott." Hope patted his cheek. "I'm just messing with you."
Wanda looked at Natasha, connecting dots. "Wait. The rumors I heard on the way here—you actually adopted a daughter?"
Natasha's entire demeanor softened in a way Wanda had never seen before. "Her name is Mara. She's five. And yes, before you ask—she's perfect."
"I can't wait to meet her," Wanda said sincerely.
Behind them, chaos magic manifested to lift the various bags and containers they'd brought from Dathomir, suspending them in mid-air like a impromptu parade float.
"Show off," Pietro muttered affectionately.
"Says the man who literally runs faster than sound," Wanda shot back.
"So what's the plan?" Peter asked, watching the floating luggage with barely contained excitement. "Where are we going? What are we doing? Is there food involved? I'm always hungry after interdimensional travel. Wait, is this interdimensional travel? I never actually confirmed—"
"Kid." Sam placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Breathe."
Pietro jumped in before Peter could spiral further. "We'll hit the Jedi Temple so Wanda can reconnect with friends there. Then the Senate building because apparently we have to do paperwork. Then Dex's Diner because I've been talking about their nerfburgers for weeks. Then—"
"Then we get Wanda and her kids settled," Steve interrupted gently but firmly. "She's been gone for months. Let's not overwhelm her on day one."
"Too late," Wanda said, but she was smiling. "I think I'm already overwhelmed."
"Where are the girls sleeping?" Rhodey asked practically. "We've got limited space as it is."
"My room," Wanda said immediately. "Until we can arrange something better. They'll be fine."
Peter looked skeptical. "Are you sure? Three people in one room?"
"Peter, Pietro and I grew up in a cramped apartment in Sokovia." Wanda's voice was matter-of-fact. "After that, pretty much anything feels spacious. Besides—" She looked down at Illyana and Merlin, who were still pressed against her sides. "—they've been through a lot. They need to feel safe."
Pietro's expression softened. "We take care of our own."
The banter continued as they made their way to the transport that would take them to the Avengers' residence. Wanda found herself sandwiched between conversations—Pietro catching her up on team gossip, Steve asking gentle questions about her time on Dathomir, Vision hovering nearby with that peculiar protective concern he'd developed.
Illyana and Merlin pressed against the viewport, watching Coruscant's incredible cityscape scroll past with mouths slightly open in awe.
"It's so big," Merlin whispered.
"And tall," Illyana added. "Everything is so tall."
"Welcome to the big city, girls," Sam said kindly. "Dathomir's probably feeling pretty small right about now, huh?"
Both girls nodded, still transfixed.
The culture shock was real and immediate. Dathomir had been all red earth and crimson mists, ancient magic and primal power. Coruscant was steel and light, technology and chaos, millions of beings crammed into impossible vertical space.
Hope knelt beside the girls. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it? Don't worry—you'll get used to it. And if you don't, well, Wanda's pretty good at making safe spaces."
"The best," Pietro confirmed.
The Avengers' residence was tucked into one of Coruscant's mid-levels—not quite the heights where senators lived, but well above the dangerous lower levels. It was a commandeered apartment complex that had been modified, expanded, and secured to serve as both home and operational base.
The team descended on Wanda's designated quarters like a helpful but chaotic moving crew. Bags were carried, furniture was rearranged, suggestions were offered (many of them contradictory), and through it all, Wanda just stood in the doorway and watched her found family being aggressively supportive.
"Okay, we're heading out," Hope announced once the worst of the chaos settled. "Scott and I are taking the girls shopping. They need clothes, supplies, probably some toys—"
"Toys definitely," Scott confirmed. "No kid should be without toys."
Illyana and Merlin looked at Wanda with barely concealed panic.
"It's okay," Wanda assured them, kneeling down. "Hope and Scott are good people. They'll take care of you."
"But—" Merlin started.
"I'll be right here when you get back," Wanda promised. "I need to unpack anyway. And besides—" Her eyes twinkled. "—you'll want new clothes, won't you? Coruscant fashion is very different from Dathomir."
That seemed to tip the balance. Both girls nodded, though they still held hands as they followed Hope and Scott out.
The door closed. Sudden quiet descended.
Wanda stood in the center of her new room—a studio-sized space that would house all three of them—and just... breathed.
"I could probably expand it with chaos magic," she murmured, studying the walls. "But that might cause structural issues. Better not risk it." A pause. "For now."
She began unpacking, using a combination of hands and telekinesis to sort belongings. Most items were from Dathomir—practical clothing in earth tones, ritual components, a few weapons that probably violated multiple Coruscant safety regulations.
The communication device Mother Talzin had given her went on the small desk. It wouldn't work reliably—not with Gethzerion's actions disrupting Dathomir's communication networks—but Wanda wanted it accessible anyway. When things stabilized, she'd need to check in.
The two Sith holocrons—Kreia's pale pyramid and Ajunta Pall's crimson one—went into the desk's locked drawer. Too dangerous to leave out, too important to discard. The ancient Sith Lords had helped Asajj. Maybe they could teach Wanda something too.
Eventually.
Her lightsaber stayed on her belt, hidden under her coat. Old habits from months of living among Force-users.
Then came the clothing. Wanda used chaos magic to float garments from bags to closet, creating an impromptu fashion show of reds—deep crimson, bright scarlet, burgundy, rose.
"So much red," she said aloud. Then, with growing realization and delight: "But I don't have to wear only red anymore. I can get other colors. Blues. Purples. Maybe even something pastel—" She paused. "No. Definitely not pastel. But options!"
The thought was surprisingly liberating. Dathomir had been wonderful in many ways, but the Nightsisters' fashion sense was... limited.
She was contemplating color palettes when a familiar breeze announced Pietro's arrival.
"Knock knock," her brother said, leaning in the doorway. "Settling in okay?"
"Getting there." Wanda gestured at the organized chaos.
Pietro stepped fully into the room, his usual frenetic energy muted by genuine concern. "How are you really doing? And don't give me the 'I'm fine' speech—I'm your twin. I can tell when you're deflecting."
Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted. "I'm... processing. It's been a lot. Dathomir was incredible—the magic, the training, becoming part of something ancient. But it was also exhausting. Every day was lessons or missions or dealing with cosmic threats."
"Gethzerion," Pietro said quietly. "Matt mentioned her. Said she's bad news."
"She's terrifying." Wanda's voice was flat.
"Well, when she shows up, we'll deal with her." Pietro's confidence was absolute. "That's what we do. We deal with threats. Together."
Wanda looked at her brother—her other half, her constant, the one person who'd never left her side even when she pushed everyone away.
"I missed you," she said simply.
"I missed you too." Pietro sat beside her, and they leaned against each other the way they had as children in Sokovia, taking comfort in proximity. "The team's not the same without you. I'm not the same without you."
"You found a girlfriend, though," Wanda teased. "Tell me about her."
Pietro's face transformed—went soft in a way Wanda had never quite seen before. "Her name's Riyo. She's... she's amazing, Wanda. Smart, tough, way too good for me. She keeps up with my speed, which is impossible, but she manages anyway."
"You love her."
"Yeah." Pietro's smile was helpless. "Yeah, I do."
"Good." Wanda bumped his shoulder. "You deserve to be happy, Pietro. After everything we've been through—you deserve someone who makes you smile like that."
"So do you," Pietro countered. "And before you say anything, I'm not talking about romance. I'm talking about those two girls who look at you like you hung the moons. About the team who just spent an hour helping you move in. About having people who give a damn whether you're okay."
"I know." Wanda's throat tightened. "I know I do."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just being. Then Pietro's stomach growled—loudly.
"Nerfburgers?" Wanda suggested.
"Nerfburgers," Pietro agreed solemnly. "But first, we wait for the girls to get back. Can't have our first family dinner without all family members present."
"'Our' family," Wanda repeated, testing the words.
"Yeah." Pietro stood, offering his hand to pull her up. "Our weird, chaotic, superhero family. You, me, two magic Nightsister kids, and whatever other strays we pick up along the way."
"Plus Natasha's daughter and the Grogu."
"Plus them," Pietro confirmed. "We're basically running an orphanage at this point."
"The most dangerous orphanage in the galaxy," Wanda amended.
"The very best kind."
Later—after Hope and Scott returned with Illyana and Merlin bearing bags of new clothes and barely contained excitement, after the team gathered for dinner at Dex's Diner (which was everything Pietro promised and more), after the girls fell asleep in their new beds with Wanda keeping watch—Wanda finally had a moment alone with her thoughts.
She stood at the window, looking out at Coruscant's eternal night-that-wasn't-night, the city's lights banishing darkness as far as the eye could see.
Behind her, Illyana and Merlin slept peacefully. Around her, the Avengers' residence hummed with the quiet sounds of heroes at rest. Somewhere out there, Pietro was probably talking Riyo's ear off. Natasha was reading to Mara. The rest of the team was recovering from their various missions, wounds physical and otherwise healing in the relative safety of home.
Home.
Wanda tested the word, found it fit better than she expected.
Dathomir would always be part of her now—the magic in her veins, the lessons learned, the family found there. But this... this was home too.
She was the Scarlet Witch. Avenger. Guardian. Nightsister. Friend. Sister.
And for the first time in longer than she could remember, Wanda Maximoff felt like maybe—just maybe—that was enough.
A soft sound made her turn. Illyana stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.
"Can't sleep?" Wanda asked gently.
"Too bright," Illyana mumbled. "Too much noise. Too... everything."
"I know." Wanda opened her arms, and Illyana came immediately, burrowing into her embrace. "It's different here. But you'll adjust. We all will."
"Promise you won't leave?" Illyana's voice was small, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
"I promise." Wanda pressed a kiss to the top of Illyana's head. "We're staying together. All three of us. No matter what."
"Okay." Illyana's grip loosened slightly. "Okay."
They stood there for a while, silhouetted against Coruscant's eternal glow, finding comfort in presence and promise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~