She's Got a Temper || Wanda Maximoff || Natasha Romanoff ||

Chapter 27

A/N: I don't usually put author's notes but I thought I would put a disclaimer about who this story is about since some of you are saying this is just a Wanda fic.

I just want to say that this story is not even close to being finished and it's meant to be a slow burn for a reason. Stick with me, it'll be worth it. For now, enjoy.

2023- Alberta, Canada

The farm was quieter than usual today. Probably because I didn't feel the sense of urgency I usually do since I had finished most of my work yesterday. I think I felt relaxed but I couldn't tell anymore what that could even look like.

Today the only thing I had to do was chop firewood for later tonight and visit James for a bit. For the last 2 years I had been living on my family farm. It was left abandoned after the fight with Victor and Jean so I decided to return, try to bring it back to life and it was a great distraction.

I hadn't seen any of the Avengers in the last 2 years nor have they tried to contact me; a part of me was relieved that they had given up, I could finally do what I wanted. My rage at the world had subsided a little since Paris but I still took the odd job here and there to put some criminals out of their misery; it made me feel something at least.

When I arrived in Alberta in 2021 the first place I went to was the old cabin the guys and I stayed at while staking out my brothers. I realized I had forgotten something and that was the 'I Love Lucy' box set I had got for Wanda. So since then I've only really re-watched the series considering there wasn't cable out here in buttfuck nowhere. I enjoyed it though, the show was definitely lovely for it's time and it reminded me of Wanda so I held onto it.

Nothing really changed in the brokenness department. I still was nowhere near who I was 5 years ago; I was still angry and selfish and just because I had stopped killing people every week doesn't mean I didn't want to. The temper is bad again along with the drinking; it was just a lot of feeling nothing for no one and not caring what happened to myself. I guess you could call that depression but I wouldn't know.

I tried the whole not drinking thing and not killing people but I was too antsy and angry for that so I found a compromise. The more scattered killings didn't draw too much attention; it was smart and I had a system for it now.

For someone who's 186 years old having a T.V with cable wasn't my first priority so I never got around to it. I had no idea what was happening in the world, all I had was my ancient flip phone because that's all I really knew how to work. I still couldn't figure out the computer that well either, I always let Steve and Natasha do that.

The quiet out here was deafening at first as well but I grew to enjoy it; I never had to communicate with anyone and I enjoyed the isolation along with the hundreds of books I had re-read twice already. But they were all classics so I could never get tired of them. Now though, I'm finally reading that series Wanda had told me to read for shits and giggles, she hated it as well but found it comical and I could see why; vampires that glitter? Okay then.

I laughed a little to myself at the memory of Wanda telling me about the ridiculous book. I had begun trying to associate Wanda with more than just the pain I get in my chest when I think about her so I decided to remember her the way she deserved to be. The image of her full of life in France, the one who stood by me even though I gave her every reason not to, she was my love and I held onto that the most.

I sighed and finished the coffee I was drinking. I put my flannel on and headed outside to pay a visit to James. I had found solace in visiting my brother's grave; when I first arrived the stick with the dog tag wrapped around it was still there but I decided that wasn't good enough so I made him a real tombstone. It was more comforting to talk to that instead of a stick.