The days after the convoy clash settled into a fragile rhythm.
Alex, Gwen, and Wanda moved through the apartment like people learning to dance together—tentative steps, soft touches, quiet reassurances. Breakfasts stretched longer than they used to. Evenings ended with the three of them tangled on the couch, watching the city lights, breathing in sync.
Natasha's shadow lingered.
She didn't call. Didn't text. But Alex felt her—watching from rooftops, slipping through crowds, a ghost who hadn't yet decided if she wanted to be seen.
Then the call came.
Late—2:17 a.m. Encrypted line only Natasha knew.
Alex answered on the first ring.
"They've got me pinned," she said—no preamble, voice low and tight. "Accords black-ops team. Off-book. They want my intel on unregistered assets. Including you three."
Alex was already moving—pulling on gear. "Location?"
"Warehouse district, Brooklyn. Pier 17. They cut my exit. Eight operatives. Enhanced gear. I can hold them… maybe twenty minutes."
"We're coming," he said. "Hold on."
He woke Gwen and Wanda—gentle but urgent.
"Natasha's in trouble."
They didn't hesitate.
Gear on. Jet prepped. Aether plotting fastest route.
The warehouse was dark—rain-slicked concrete, sodium lights flickering. Gunfire echoed inside as they landed on the roof.
Gwen's spider-sense screamed. "Eight inside. Two snipers on the catwalks."
Wanda's red flared—protective. "She's cornered. Bleeding."
Alex nodded. "We go in fast. Gwen—web the snipers. Wanda—barrier and extraction. I'll draw fire and get to her."
They dropped through a skylight—glass shattering like stars.
Chaos erupted.
Gwen swung low—webs snapping out, yanking snipers off the catwalks. They crashed into crates, unconscious before they hit ground.
Wanda raised both hands—red dome snapping up around Natasha, deflecting a hail of bullets. She swept her arm—chaos wave knocking three operatives flat.
Alex blurred through the center—copied speed + spider-sense guiding him. He disarmed one with a telekinetic pull, webbed another, took a stun blast to the chest that made him stagger but not fall.
Natasha was backed against a wall—black suit torn, blood on her side, knife in hand, eyes fierce.
She saw them—relief flashed across her face, quickly masked.
Alex reached her first—took a grazing shot meant for her, shoved her behind a crate.
"Stay down," he growled.
She grabbed his arm. "You came."
"Always," he said.
Gwen swung in—landing beside them, webbing the last two operatives together.
Wanda lowered the dome—red fading to soft glow. She crossed to Natasha—kneeling, hands gentle on the wound.
"Let me help."
Natasha hesitated—then nodded.
Red energy flowed—soft, healing. The bleeding slowed. Natasha exhaled—shaky.
The fight was over.
Silence fell—heavy, charged.
Natasha looked between them—bloodied, breathing hard, standing together like an unbreakable unit.
"You didn't have to come," she whispered.
Alex knelt beside her—hand on her shoulder. "We did."
Gwen crouched too—voice soft. "You're not alone anymore. Not if you don't want to be."
Wanda reached out—hesitant—took Natasha's hand.
"We've all lost things," she said quietly. "But we found something here. You could too."
Natasha stared at their joined hands—then at Alex.
Tears shimmered in her eyes—rare, unguarded.
"I've spent my life running," she admitted, voice breaking. "From attachments. From softness. From anything that could be taken away. But watching you three… the way you fight for each other… the way you love without fear… it hurts. Because I want that. I want it so badly it terrifies me."
Alex cupped her cheek—thumb brushing away a tear.
"Then stop running," he said softly. "Stay. Let us show you it's safe."
Natasha closed her eyes—shuddering breath.
When she opened them again—something had shifted. Walls cracking.
She leaned forward—slow, tentative—and kissed him.
Soft at first—testing. Then deeper—hungry, desperate, years of loneliness pouring out.
Alex kissed her back—gentle but sure—hand cradling her neck.
When they parted—breaths mingling—Natasha looked at Gwen and Wanda.
"I don't know how to do this," she whispered. "But… I want to learn. With all of you."
Gwen smiled—tears in her eyes—leaned in and kissed Natasha's cheek.
"Welcome home," she said.
Wanda followed—soft kiss to Natasha's forehead. "We've got you."
Natasha exhaled—shaky laugh.
Then she reached for them—all three.
They pulled her in—four bodies, four heartbeats, one shared breath.
Rain kept falling outside.
Inside, something new was born.
Not perfect. Not easy.
But real.
And worth every scar.
(Word count: 1005)