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CHAPTER XXXIII. The Farmhouse
The quinjet touched down with a low hum, its sleek metal gleaming against the open, unfamiliar landscape. This wasn't another secret mission or a barren battlefield. Instead, as Elina glanced out the window, she saw acres of peaceful farmland stretching under the bright morning sun, dotted with patches of green and gold. The air here smelled different-fresh, pure, carrying the scent of open earth and wildflowers. It was almost surreal, as if they'd landed in another world entirely. The moment she stepped off the jet, a wave of calm washed over her, loosening the grip of the pounding headache that had haunted her for hours. She rubbed her temples, trailing quietly behind the others as they approached the farmhouse.
Laura Barton was there, stepping out to greet them with a warm smile, and for a moment, Elina froze, blinking in surprise. The last time she'd met Laura, she'd been just as serene, just as grounded, but now there was a visible, tangible change. Laura's belly was round with pregnancy, a silent testament to time that had passed without Elina even noticing. It was a strange sight in their world of fights, espionage, and battles-life, in its purest form, growing amid the quiet chaos of this farm.
"Gentlemen, this is Laura," Clint introduced, his voice tinged with something softer, almost reverent.
"I know all your names," Laura chuckled, her laughter light and warm, effortlessly filling the space with a familiarity that felt foreign to Elina.
Elina watched as Clint's kids darted out from the house, their excited squeals echoing in the air as they threw themselves into their father's arms, clinging to him as if he'd been gone for a lifetime. His daughter ran straight to Natasha, who caught her in an easy, affectionate embrace. There was a bond there, a closeness between Natasha and Clint's children that Elina hadn't expected but somehow wasn't surprised by. She cocked her head, trying to make sense of the warmth that seemed to settle around them, a warmth she felt on the edges but couldn't quite grasp. Of course, Natasha would have some kind of relationship with Clint's family-she and Clint shared an unspoken loyalty, a deep, resilient bond that went beyond missions and danger.
As everyone settled into the introductions and laughter, Elina slipped away, feeling the pull of the headache creeping back in. She found the bathroom, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, the sudden quiet soothing but not enough to ease the throbbing pain behind her eyes. She perched on the edge of the bathtub, pressing her fingertips against her temples, hoping the ache would fade, that whatever Wanda's powers had done to her mind would wear off with time. But even now, it lingered, pulsing with a haunting consistency that wouldn't let her forget.
With a sigh, she pulled out her phone, staring at the screen as she scrolled through her contacts. The thought of calling someone felt strangely daunting. She considered Celia, but dismissed it; she wouldn't understand. Blake was with her family, and after everything that had happened at the party, she wasn't even sure how to talk to Xavier anymore. But in her heart, she knew he would understand if anyone could. It took her a moment, but finally, she tapped his name and pressed the call button, listening to the steady rings on the other end.
