Baby witch (avengers edition)

My Girl

The morning after their tumultuous night in the tower was filled with a restless energy. The Avengers, unable to find sleep, were buzzing with anticipation and anxiety. The noise from the boys' activities only added to the general unrest. Natasha and Steve lay in bed, struggling to find solace, their minds racing with what lay ahead.

Tony had called the entire team into his workroom, replacing their usual meeting spot in the garage. The room was now lined with white suits, each meticulously designed and hanging in neat rows. These new uniforms had been crafted for the team during Wanda's time with them, though they had never been used. Tony had even made a smaller suit for Wanda, which hung at the end of the row, personalized with her name.

The suits were designed to be flexible, capable of stretching to fit different body sizes. Tony's intention had been for the suits to serve as a gesture of acknowledgment for Wanda's official place in the Avengers. Publicly, she had been known as the "Baby Avenger" or "Scarlet Witch" due to her magic, but this gift was meant to signify her formal acceptance into the team, away from the prying eyes of the media.

As the team silently picked out their suits, Bruce eyed them with skepticism, though Tony reassured him that they would stretch to fit. Clint, however, was the only one not donning the suit, preparing instead to test the time machine.

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Clint stood at the center of the time machine platform, a massive construct requiring steps to reach its elevated position. He glanced up at the mechanism above him, feeling a mix of determination and apprehension.

"You don't have to do this," Natasha said, her hand resting gently on Clint's shoulder. He looked at her, trying to muster a brave expression despite the lump in his throat.

"I'll be back before you know it," Clint assured her with a forced smile. Natasha nodded, stepping away from the platform and descending the stairs, her black sweater and pants contrasting sharply with the sterile environment of the lab.

The team gathered in tense silence, watching as Scott prepared to initiate the test.

"Okay, Mr. Barton," Scott said, explaining the procedure. "We're sending you back just before Thanos, and we'll pull you back after three seconds. It'll feel like three minutes to you."

Bruce, focused on the control panel, adjusted a series of buttons and switches. The machine overhead began to glow as it powered up.

"Ready?" Tony asked, his eyes scanning Bruce and Clint.

Clint nodded, his helmet activating as Bruce inserted the date—April 27, 2015—into the system. With a final look at Clint, Bruce pulled the lever, starting the countdown.

The machine hummed to life, and a brilliant blast enveloped Clint. He vanished, leaving Natasha gasping in worry.

"It's okay," Bruce said, trying to reassure everyone as he manipulated the controls. "Just counting down."

"Three, two, one," Bruce counted, pulling the lever back down. Clint reappeared on the platform, kneeling and catching his breath.

Natasha rushed up the stairs, her concern evident. "Hey, hey, you alright?" she asked, gently holding Clint's face and inspecting him for injuries.

"It works," Clint said, his voice trembling with a mix of relief and emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes as he recalled how close he had been to seeing his daughter.

Bruce, noticing Clint's emotional state, intervened gently. "We need to stay on track. Widow and Rogers, are you two ready?"

Natasha, still with Clint, exchanged a glance with Steve. They nodded in silent agreement, understanding the gravity of the situation. As they suited up, Natasha stared at Wanda's custom-made outfit, her emotions a tangled mess. She imagined how happy Wanda would have been to receive this gift under different circumstances—a symbol of her official place in the team, a moment of pride and joy.