Tied

Four

Dahlia hadn't even noticed Wanda join the fight, having been too preoccupied with not dying, though she did notice when the purple bastard appeared. 

She didn't know how long they'd been fighting, but she knew the end was near. 

Dahlia arrived in the wooded area just in time to see Thor hurl Stormbreaker into Thanos’ chest and to see Wanda weeping over Vision. 
She approached Wanda, kneeling and pulling her into a hug. 

Wanda, overcome by grief, sobbed onto the woman's shoulder. She found comfort in the way Dahlia stroked her hair and whispered revenge plots. 

They hadn't known each other very long at all, but they found comfort within the other. 

“I told you. You'd die for that!” Thor took the back of Thanos's head and forced Stormbreaker deeper into his chest, staring angrily into his eyes while Thanos cried out in pain.

“You should've. . . You. . . You should've gone for the head.” Thanos raised the gauntlet and snapped his fingers. 

Dahlia gasped in horror, looking at the scene before her. 
“NO!” Thor yelled. “What did you do!? WHAT DID YOU DO!?” 

Thanos mockingly smirked at Thor before he used the space stone to teleport away, leaving Stormbreaker on the Wakandan field. 

Then Steve arrived. “Where’d he go? Thor. . . Where'd he go?

“Steve?” Bucky collapsed into ash. 

Less than a moment later, Wanda disintegrated in Dahlia's arms, leaving her feeling cold. “Wanda?” She whispered.

Standing quickly and leaning against a tree, a sick feeling settled in Dahlia's stomach. She felt like she was going to puke, watching most of the people she fought beside, disappear into thin air. 

Captain America, Thor, War Machine, Black Widow, Artemis, Pietro, Bruce Banner, and Rocket are left mourning near Vision’s dead body. 

“What is this? What the hell is going on?” Rhodes asked. 
“. . . Oh, God.” Steve muttered. 

Dahlia's eyes suddenly widened. “Mom. . .” She muttered. 

𓆩♡𓆪

Dahlia busted into the Manhattan penthouse, panic written all over her face. “Mom?” She yelled.

“MOM!?” She ran all through her old home, hoping to find her mom fast asleep. 

Instead, she found her moms phone going off on the floor beside the unmade king sized bed, barely hanging on from the nearly dead battery. 

“Mommy. . .” She cried, falling to her knees. 

Dahlia sobbed into the duvet that hung off the bed haphazardly. 

When Natasha finally entered the room, she immediately went into action, pulling her dear friend into a tight embrace. They thought things would have changed between them, but they hadn't. 

Through the tears blurring her vision, she saw Steve leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. Dahlia squeezed her eyes closed, so she didn't have to see the look of pity he likely had. 

“She's all I had left. . .” She whimpered, finally gaining the slightest control of her voice. “I'm alone. . .”

“You're not alone.” Natasha hushed her. “You have us.” 

Dahlia pulled away from Natasha and picked up her moms phone. It had finally died. 
She wiped her tears, forcing herself to stand on her feet with Natasha's help. “Take me home, Tasha?” 

“Yeah, let's get you home. . . Steve's gonna lock the place up so nobody can get in and take your mom's stuff, okay?” Natasha gave Steve a look and he reluctantly went to grab the keys from the door. 

Dahlia nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from crying again. She felt weak. She hated feeling weak. 

𓆩♡𓆪

Once Dahlia arrived at her little home tucked in the mountains of Buckhannon, West Virginia, she changed clothes and passed out from exhaustion. 

When she woke up sixteen hours later, she didn't expect anyone to be there. Dahlia thought they would've gone back to New York to let her deal with things on her own. 

She didn't expect Pietro to be napping on the couch with Morticia perched on his broad chest, purring. 

She didn't expect Natasha in her kitchen putting stuff together for breakfast, with Steve off to the side reading the newspaper that had likely been tossed at the end of the long driveway before the sun even broke the treeline. 

Dahlia ignored Steve as she entered the kitchen. The events that occurred in Wakanda seemed to come back to her mind in waves. 

She stopped short of the coffee maker, grasping the counter top with her eyes screwed closed. 

Outriders. 
Thanos.
Dust. 
Death. 

Clearly, for some people, things didn't change. They had nothing to lose and it was just another day. 

For others, their entire worlds were falling apart, because they had everything to lose.

Twenty-four hours post snap, and the people were fighting for their lives. The radio on the kitchen table told stories of people running rampant in the larger cities, trying to find their families. 

Twenty-four hours and crime was at an all time high, anywhere from arson to bank robberies and home invasions. There was a chance that it would get worse as time went on, but Dahlia hoped that it would get better. 

Dahlia opened her eyes again and pulled open the refrigerator door. 
The condiments in the door rattled from the sudden movement, she ignored it, reaching her hand in and grabbing the Baileys from the top shelf that was next to the half pitcher of sweet tea. 

“Morning, sleepy head. Since when have you taken Baileys in your morning coffee?” Natasha asked, watching as Dahlia poured coffee and Baileys into the Star Wars mug she stole from the S.H.I.E.L.D. break room. 

“Since I started working a basic nine to five. . . You don't suppose I could fake my death, do you? I have enough money to live in secrecy until the day I die. . . No, I'm gonna quit. My boss wanted to fire me anyway.”

“You're a mess.” Natasha said. 
“I know.” Dahlia replied, stirring her morning mixture. 

“You want a bagel?” Natasha asked. 
“Absolutely.”
“Buttered with cream cheese on one half?” 
“Yes.”