Changes (A Prequel to "Through, Together")

A Friend in Need

Goodbyes were had somewhere outside of Ensenada, Mexico. The plan was that Scott and Clint would be able to cross the border up near Mexicali and make their way up into San Diego before going their separate ways. Scott lived in California and hopefully wouldn't have far to go before reuniting with his family. Clint's situation would be up in the air, Natasha knew, but she hoped that he would at least be able to find some time with Laura and the kids before he was inevitably tracked down by the feds. She knew that this was for the best, but it was always difficult saying goodbye to her old friend.

"Take care of each other."  Clint reminded her, as if she needed it.  

"Give the kids a kiss for me," she replied with a small smile.  "And tell Nathaniel he's still a traitor."

They were parked at an overlook along the coastal highway. Scott and Clint drove off in a clunker they'd acquired a few miles back, leaving Nat, Steve, Sam and Wanda with the minivan they'd "borrowed" a few miles outside of where they'd landed the jet. Natasha leaned against its rust-spotted bumper, arms folded across her chest, and watched the waves lapping calmly in the ocean. Her red curls were tossed carelessly in the warm breeze as she took a moment to breathe in the salty ocean air. Wanda sat on the guardrail, legs swaying slowly as she looked out at the horizon. Sam and Steve stood somewhere in between.

"You should've gone with them, Sam." Steve was saying. His brow was furrowed; his cheeks slightly flushed from the sun. He'd removed his jacket and stood in just a t-shirt and jeans. As much as he said he hated the cold, Natasha thought Steve handled it much better than the heat.

"With your record of service, they might have struck you some kind of deal."

Sam's eyes were unreadable behind the dark sunglasses he wore, but Natasha could see a smirk bubbling to the surface, pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah," he said, shoulders shaking with a chuckle, "pretty sure you've got the best record of service out of anyone I've ever met. Look how much good that did you."

Wilson tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and turned his face toward the ocean. "Nah, I think I'll stick around. There's plenty of work to do, and besides..." he turned his head and looked over his shoulder toward Natasha. "What kind of friend would I be if I forced Romanoff to put up with you on her own?"

Natasha wore a half smirk, perked a brow and shrugged one shoulder as if to say "he's right". Wanda moved, then. She swung her legs back around the edge of the guardrail and stepped onto solid ground once more. The tail of her red leather jacket flapped in the breeze behind her.

"I'll stay as well," she told them again. "This world has shown that there is no place in it for someone like me. Except for right here."

She nodded and gave them all a small smile that Natasha could feel the sadness in. She couldn't possibly fathom what it was like to be experimented on the way Wanda had been, but she knew a thing or two about what it was like to be treated like a weapon instead of a person. To be locked up and beaten down day in and day out, all for a result. All for a stat or a number or some piece of empirical data that would satisfy someone who didn't deserve satisfaction. The world had taken Wanda's home from her. It'd taken her brother from her, as well. If she felt some sort of kinship here with the three of them, well... that was a feeling Natasha could understand. She stepped away from the van and unfolded her arms from across her chest. Standing in front of Wanda, she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and offered a smile.

"You do belong here," Natasha told her. "I may not have much to compare it to, but when it comes to family," she looked over at Sam and Steve. "I'd say this is a pretty good one."