Pocket-Sized Avengers: Assembling the Heroes P.3 (Wanda)

Chapter four: A Blazing Soul
There were muffled voices coming from outside. Voices that spoke of the past and of destiny, not machines that cluttered and clinked, nor the deadpan tone of humans working paintbrushes over plastic. They spoke strange words, words that sounded unreal. Words that begged to be listened to, if there was a listener.
And in a small gray capsule nestled between sheets of cardboard, there was.
Human, they thought, or at least with a human form. They began to move, slowly, quietly, as an animal awakes from hibernation.
How long had they been asleep? If they hadn't been sleeping, how long as they began alive? The body opened and closed their eyes, seeing nothing both times.
"...another soul, probably Tier Four..."
"And Rogue?"
"Definitely."
They could identify two voices now. The first one, male, and the questioner, female.
And which one was this entity in the box?
"...we'll need to keep a close eye..."
"Doubtless."
"...and restraints, if need be..."
"...borrowed some from..."
The female voice got closer, as did the sound of light and miniature footsteps. Instinctively, the person inside shrunk down further into the box and began making fists, preparing to fight. A soft weight rested in the lid of the box. A hand.
"Well now, shall we wake him?"
The male voice followed. "Him? We have been told the Rogue was a her."
The box-dweller felt a sharp tingling on the back of their neck. They knew this gossip was about them. And if they knew nothing else, about the world or themselves, they were not a her.
Something overcame the doll then, something big. The doll felt a rush of heat, then a lurch of power as they went flying into the air, breaking through the box with a great war. They saw before them a body, their body, probably, and it was a woman's. That was the first hint that something was wrong.
Two other dolls were there, waiting, the male and the female that she had heard earlier. Both were shellshocked at the sight of a flying doll that seethed with magic and chaos.
Her eyes burned and her voice crackled with fire. "Who are you? What's happened to me?"
The woman, bald and clad in all yellow, inhaled and stepped forward without fear. "Well, I can answer one of those questions. I am the Ancient One, and this is my assistant, Karl Mordo. If you want your second question answered, we might be able to help you. But you will need to come with us."
"Can you control your power?" The man beside her asked, her voice slow and soothing.
The doll looked down at her hands. There was a red aura around them, pulsing and swirling like fog on a haunted night. It was amazing to see, but no gift like this came without danger. She slowly drifted towards the ground, only stopping when her feet connected with a solid, flat surface.
"I... I think so." She murmured, letting her hands relax by her sides. The magic faded, and a weight was released from her shoulders. To see such a light die in her own hands was exhausting.
The man nodded, impressed, his eyes only leaving her hands to look the doll in the eyes, beckoning her to follow him. The Ancient One had already turned away with a swish of her cloak.
The doll looked behind her at the box, with its zip ties having been snapped away. She had done that, with this power. If these people were going to help her use them, there was no point in staying here. She swallowed hard and allowed them to lead the way.
They traversed over more boxes and packages of toys, some as tall as mountains, and some as low as empty lakes. The Ancient One didn't speak at all, the only noise coming from her being the swish of her cloak over the objects they passed. She didn't look behind her, either, putting complete trust in the the man in the green tunic.
"Do you have a name for yourself, rogue one?" He had asked her.
"No."
"It is Wanda, then," he decided. "You are a Scarlet Witch figure. Most of your kind have that name."
"Okay... is that what I am, then?"
"A doll, or Scarlet Witch? You are a Blazing Soul. Surely this is not your first time in plastic." The man chuckled.
"You know, you can call me whatever you want, I'm still not going to understand it," Wanda replied, getting impatient. "You're a Karl Mordo figure. Do 'most of your kind' have that name, too?"
"Would it surprise you to know that my name is also Karl Mordo?" Karl said.
"A lot surprises me, considering I just came into existence," Wanda folded her arms. There was a softness in her chest that she wasn't familiar with. Feeling awkward, she dropped her arms again. "I know this isn't my first pony show, Karl Mordo. I've been a doll before. Many times. But I don't think I've ever seen this power before. The red stuff," Wanda crimped her fingers again and watched the alluring magic dance around them. "What does it all mean?"
"The Ancient One will explain everything once we return to base."
"Where's base?"
"Here." The Ancient One suddenly spoke, stopping short of a man-made, or doll-made cavern carved into the side of an empty cardboard box. The inside was sparse, just a couple of fabric strips for rugs, or beds, or something, and there was a stash of Tootsie Rolls in one of the corners.
"Quaint." Wanda nodded.
"Quaint works for us," the Ancient One agreed, unoffended. She gathered her skirts and stepped inside. "Come in, Wanda. We have much to discuss."
There was already someone inside. A dark-skinned girl dressed in primary colors sat criss-cross on one of the rugs, deep in meditation. It was broken when she heard the footsteps of the Ancient One before her, and her eyes immediately noticed Wanda. She froze, as if she had seen a dead man.
"It is rude to stare, Kamala." The Ancient One said.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Kamala stood and brushed herself off in a hurry. "You look familiar to me."
"There are other Wandas." The Ancient One reminded her.
"Yes, but not one like this one," Karl said, a touch of pride in his voice. He touched Wanda's shoulder. "We have finally found another Blazing Soul. Like you."
Kamala muttered something in Arabic before grabbing eagerly onto Wanda's hand. "Oh, gosh! Nice to meet you! It's always nice to see another Blazing Soul. Blazers, as I call them. Haha. Good to see a woman, too! There's not enough of us ladies, right?"
"Right." Wanda agreed, but she felt like an impostor. "Woman" was not the right word for her. She may have been built as one, her mind was a different matter.
"Well, I've got to go, thanks for letting me use the base."
"Of course," said the Ancient One, and then, quieter, "Is it Loki again?"
Kamala bit her lip, changing suddenly. Wanda noticed her shoulders shake a little. "Mm-hm. I've been made chief assistant a while ago. It's too late for me to bail."
"We could hide you, Kamala. We're good at that. You can help us find other Blazers." Karl softly touched her arm, begging her to stay.
"No!" Kamala shouted, pulling away with lightening speed. Her arm, as it seemed, was made of elastic. "No. I can't," she blinked rapidly and looked towards the door. "I've got a group to take care of. Clint number 42 recently lost his wife to his own hand. It was a mistake. It was all a big mistake. And I wasn't able to help him. Another teammate had his hand broken that same day. I had to stay."
"I wouldn't expect anything less of you," said the Ancient One. "It's in your nature to stay."
"Mm-hm," Kamala wiped her eyes, even though nothing could be there. "I have to go. I do. Thank you. I promise to visit later. Goodbye." Kamala sprung through the doorway and into the night, stealthily creeping amongst the boxes until no human shape could be found.
The Ancient One breathed deeply and held it for a long time. Then she sat in Kamala's place.
"I apologize. That wasn't the best way to start our introductions."
"Life is tough around here," Karl added. "We're here to make it better in the only way we can. Providing sanctuary."
"Our focus is to find and save dolls like you from those who seek to steal your power. They are the bounty hunters. We are the liberators for the Blazing Souls."
Wanda sat on the second rug. She tried her best to shake Clint number 42 from her mind. She couldn't imagine doing that, not in this life or her previous ones. Staring into your loved one's face as the light died from their eyes, and knowing that their expiration was your own doing. Every second his situation dwelled longer in her head, the more it hurt, until the pain became almost her own.
"Wanda? Are you alright?"
Wanda broke her daydream. "Yeah. I will be once I learn what I am."
The Ancient One beamed matronly. "Karl, the door, please."
Karl rolled a slat of broken wood in front of the doorway, bathing the base in darkness. He took the rug next to Wanda, and she suddenly recalled a time, maybe, if it were real, a time when she had sat on a rug next to someone else, ready for their teacher to tell them a story.
What the Ancient One did wasn't much different. She painted a picture with golden shapes and discs, illustrating the four tiers of doll reincarnation. The fourth tier was Wanda's, and that made her a Blazing Soul- a rare type of doll imbued with strong and mystical powers.
"And what happens after the fourth tier? Expiration?"
"Nobody knows," said the Ancient One calmly. "There is no proof of Tier Five. There is no proof that expiration is the end. We can only hope that it is something nice." She tapped one of her hexes and the hologram drifted forward, passing through Wanda like a ghost.
"Blazing Souls are hunted for their power. The bounty hunters believe that the only way to gain a Blazer's power is to kill them."
"Forceful expiration." The Ancient One said, twitching slightly the word "kill". "We don't like using the word kill. It is too harsh a word, even for the bounty hunters."
"Right," Karl nodded. "Forceful expiration. Ever since the Ancient One and I teamed up, it has been our goal to find and protect as many Blazing Souls as possible. Kamala Khan is one of them, as you saw earlier. But... she has been found by the bounty hunters. And she works for the worst one of all."
"Loki." Said Wanda, happy to know at least one thing before it was told to her. She knew that, by being a doll, she was immediately given all of her character's information. Still, there was something about Loki that was untouchable, inaccessible. Wanda Maximoff had been around for most of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but her character and Loki's had never collided. She wondered what he was really like, if the one in the warehouse was just a bad egg. She wondered if it was deadly of her to wonder these things.
"Exactly," Karl said, getting up and going into the corner for three of the Tootsie Rolls. "Now on to a lighter subject. An old man named Paul works here, and every Friday he carries a handful of Tootsie Rolls in his pocket. They were supposed to be for his friends, but..." Karl shrugged. "Some get dropped. You could say we're good at finding more than just Blazers."
The Ancient One reveled in a chuckle and took one of the candies from Karl. Wanda was offered one, too.
"Please, dine with us. You are family now." Karl said, making earnest eye contact with her.
Family. Alright. Wanda searched her memory for that word elsewhere, but that part must have been locked. She took the Tootsie Roll carefully.
"So what do we do now?" She asked.
"Train. Meditate. Find other Blazers."
"And we'll help you, too, Wanda, don't worry. We didn't forget about you already." Said the Ancient One.
Karl looked around the room, lost, and blatantly ignoring the space Wanda occupied. "Oh, I already have."
They all shared a good laugh, forced and tired as it was, but that was what family felt like then.
As time passed, Wanda learned to hone her powers. Better than any of the other Blazers he'd seen, Karl had said. Maybe even better than the Ancient One.
The Ancient One gave Karl the side-eye, but there was a smile in her voice when she said, "We shall see."
Since there was no need for dolls to sleep, the days and nights were spent mostly the same. Two hours to train. Two hours to meditate. One hour for dining, rinse and repeat, with one hour's free time. Not like free time was any different from regular time. All it did was leave Wanda without a distraction from the noise in her mind. She began to dread free time because of this.
Some days were better than others. Some days Wanda could confidently look at her reflection in the sheen of her plastic packaging and feel comfortable, beautiful, even. Other days, she avoided the mirror like the plague, not wanting to see the truth. On these days her spirits were low, and her stress was high. She would think of all the things she could have been, and reasons why she was it. Obviously she had done something wrong. But what? What could have been so awful to cause for this sort of punishment? It killed her to not know the answer. Still, the Ancient One saw it differently. She largely blamed Wanda's mixed emotions on the fact she used to be a Rogue Soul- a soul that burns wildly with a motivation that can't be explained by anyone, a soul that ravages the world in search of the one thing that might make them whole.
It was a good solution to one of her problems. It wasn't the solution Wanda was looking for, but sometimes you don't look for solutions yourself.
Sometimes they fall right into your lap.
And the day came when it did, when Wanda was torn between discomfort and ease, when the three of them gathered in the base to talk.
"Hm?" Wanda asked, nostrils full of the faux-chocolatey scent of Tootsie Rolls once again. It had became the trio's nightly routine to dine this way- sitting in a circle like monks, each with a chunk of the candy to smell and wind down for the night. There was comfort in this routine, but the days had began to melt into weeks, and then months. Wanda thought that the boredom would kill her... if the bounty hunters didn't find her first.
"I've heard that you can buy your way out of here with enough CostCoins." Said Karl.
"Fascinating," said Wanda, but she didn't really believe so. She could hex her way into a human's home if it came to that. She would just have to wait until the daylight hours, get close enough in range to an unsuspecting employee, and they would unknowingly be putty in her hands. Wanda shook her head. She had moved past that. Maybe past Wanda would do things like that. Present Wanda was different. "Are you going to do that, Karl?"
Karl gave her a close-mouthed smile and patted her lightly on the shoulder. "You are my focus for now, Wanda."
"That's nice, Karl. Thank you."
"Karl is my most loyal ally," the Ancient One chipped in. "I've had other assistants before him and they all..." she sighed. "Found other things to do with their time. But Karl is extremely devoted to our cause. And for that I am grateful." The Ancient One raised her chunk of Tootsie Roll in a sort of toast to Karl.
"Such flattery," Karl replied. "What is it, my Finding Day?" He laughed abruptly, and it died away just as quickly. His eyes were downcast, his mouth moved little as he spoke. "I just want to make sure all the dolls get where they need to go."
Things went quiet. The awkward, sad sort of quiet. Before Wanda's mind could fill with her emotions again, the Ancient One cleared her throat.
"Speaking of which, Karl has suggested to take you to Magenta tomorrow, Wanda, if you wish."
"Who's Magenta?"
"Oh, we forgot to tell you that!" The Ancient One said, letting true excitement into her voice for the first time since Wanda had known her. She clapped her hands and brought another spell into existence. She manipulated the glowing disc until it showed the face of a man, rough and blotched with something on the side of his mouth. "He's the matchmaker of our little world. He reads magnets, and is able to tell you your magnet match for a small fee. But he deals in other things, too. I saw your curiosity when I told you about the four tiers of reincarnation. Karl is thinking that he may be able to read your past, and tell you where your soul had once been."
Wanda shivered. Someone to tell her who she used to be? Nothing could have been better. That's all she really wanted to know. The minute after Magenta told her she used to be a man, that she was supposed to be a man, she was convinced that all of life's problems would cease. No more bounty hunters, no more talk of Blazing Souls or Kamala Khan or Clint number 42.
"I'll do it. I'll go."
"My, you certainly are eager!" The Ancient One exclaimed, getting up from her rug and offering Wanda a hand. "Karl is taking you tomorrow. After the alarm chimes that the work day is over."
"You aren't going?"
"No, I'm staying in the base. I feel like Kamala will need my assistance soon," Her smile was half proud and half sad, the smile that only a mother could give.
The Ancient One hugged her then. It was Wanda's first.
"Be safe. The outskirts of district five are rife with bounty hunters. Follow Karl closely. He knows the way to Magenta."
Wanda was the first to pull away, not fully knowing how to react to love. "You've been before, Karl? What did he tell you?"
Karl crossed his arms. "I didn't go for me."
"Are you too chicken?"
"Am I what?"
"Chicken. Like, you're afraid of how he will read you."
"No," Karl protested, his face lined with worry. "Tell you what. I'll get a reading done tomorrow, too, when you go. To see who my magnet match is."
"Ooh, really? I'll like to stay and see that."
"Not if he kicks you out first."
"Har-har, Karl. You better be up bright and early. Er... dark and late. I want to head out before the last chime rings."
"Sure, Wanda."
The Ancient One cleared her throat. "That's enough out of you two. The warehouse will be opening soon."
The Ancient One shooed them out of the main room, into the cardboard tube that created a tunnel for them to climb back into their respective boxes. Wanda settled into the clear plastic liner and heard the crunch of Karl's next door.
"Don't sleep in!"
"How could I? You'd be pestering me all day."
Wanda made a raspberry noise with her tongue. Karl echoed back. Like children.
"I said that's enough." The Ancient One called from far away.
Wanda sighed. She was too excited to sleep- not that dolls need sleep anyways- it was just a precaution in case the warehouse workers needed to ship them away. Yet she shut her eyes and sleep seized her, pulling her into a dream unlike any other.
In the dream she was running. Her body was larger, her step heavier. She neck-high in soft, cheerfully-colored fabric, fabric that passed down each broad shoulder and slim leg. Her dream self passed by a dusky, clear glass, a door, and saw that she was not a she.
This was the man she knew she once was, the man she was meant to be.
Wanda was struck by these new features, pleased by the firmness in her chest, the thickness of her brow, but they felt alien now. Undeserved. Half of her belonged here, half of her wanted to be in her current body again. She wasn't sure which was the truth, which one she should desire more, or aspire to be. There was more conflict in the dusky mirror of that glass door than anywhere else in that store.
The store the dream had put her in was obviously closed for the night. No shoppers milled around in the square outside, no security mingled around the merchandise inside. She caught a blinking red light out of the corner of her eye and turned to face it- it was a security camera. Instinctively, she reached into the pocket of her man's overcoat and pulled out a thin roll of black electrical tape.
Ah, so this was her purpose here.
The next parts of the dream came in a series of events- like a montage. She'd perform one action, then black out, then see another scene.
She'd jumped up to the camera- blackout.
She unrolled the tape with a shrill stretching noise- blackout.
She pressed tape over the blinking red light of the camera- blackout.
She heard otherworldly movement in the store- blackout.
She saw a doll awakening in her box, stretching and groaning, unassuming- blackout.
She extended the blade of a boxcutter- blackout.
She went to the doll's box and slit open the plastic- blackout.
This one felt longer than the others.
She saw the doll in a pile on the floor below, cut into pieces.
Blackout.
Wanda shook herself awake, gasping.
She felt unclean, monstrous.
She knew she wouldn't want to talk about this.
She knew she didn't want to think about this.
She knew exactly what this meant for her past.
She knew now what a Rogue Soul was- and why other dolls were so terrified of them.
"Wanda? Is that you?" The Ancient One called, her voice distant and unsure.
"Yeah! Yeah, it's me." Wanda panted, uncertain. She realized this was the day someone would tell her what she already knew.
And then everyone would hate her as they ought to.
"Come to breakfast." The Ancient One said.
Wanda rose and crawled, stiff as a corpse, from her box to the main room, where Karl and the Ancient One were already standing in wait for her.
"Morning, Wanda." Said Karl, raising a chunk of Tootsie Roll in the air. "Care for a snack before we go?"
"No, thanks." She declined. The sight of food made her sick.
"You know, Karl told me he was surprised to have woken up before you," The Ancient One commented. "Given that you were so excited yesterday," The Ancient One noticed the troubled furrow of Wanda's brow. "Is something the matter?"
"No." Wanda lied with a shrug.
"Alright, if you insist. Are you both set to go, then? Let me say goodbye before you do."
The Ancient One lifted Wanda's chin with a curved finger, waiting for something from her, but Wanda still said nothing. She wondered if the Ancient One could read a person's dreams through their eyes.
"Be good. Don't worry so much. Magenta may look intimidating, but he is a good man. I should know," The Ancient One giggled a little, which was unlike her. Wanda's head then hit her chest as the Ancient One pulled her into her arms. "Here Karl," she ordered. "Let's do... what is it the humans call it? A group hug. A group hug before you go."
"Well, alright," Karl laughed, rolling his eyes. Wanda felt his left arm wrap around her back as the right one laid on the Ancient One's shoulder. It was an uncomfortable embrace that gave Wanda a different sort of comfort. No matter what sort of person the nightmare made her believe she had been, she was still loved.
The Ancient One ushered them out of the base and waved from the doorway, giving her last warnings to Karl as they walked away.
"Conceal yourselves, travel under shelves if you must, don't stop for anything, don't look anyone else in the eye..."
"I think she worries too much." Karl said, shaking his head once the Ancient One and her voice had disappeared.
"She's just trying to protect us."
"I have Blazing Soul with me. Our enemies will need protecting!" Karl exclaimed, patting Wanda's shoulder. He withdrew his hand when he saw she wasn't laughing along with him.
"Why so quiet today? Are you finally getting nervous?"
"Tired," Wanda replied, her voice raspy. She titled her head, watching the subtle tremor in Karl's step. "But you're nervous. Afraid your princess is in another castle?" She said, forcing a laugh as she elbowed Karl's side.
Karl did not react.
"I am nervous." He agreed. And that was that.
They traveled in near silence. Occasionally there would be a scraping noise from one of their shoes, or the wispy thread of sounds trickling in from a nearby party, but not much else. Wanda hardly noticed the atmosphere, with all she had to think about.
I've never been to a party, I wonder if I'd like them. Will Magenta tell me the truth? What is he like? Is he known for telling the truth? God, all this walking. I didn't realize he'd be so far away. What district is this? Maybe I wasn't a man in my past life, men seem to have a better sense of direction. But then why do I feel so unnatural in this body? Am I supposed to be somewhere else? Should I be on the lookout for bounty hunters? Will they find me here? Better get ready to use my powers, just in case. Okay, Karl, speed it up there, bud. It's like you're walking a funeral march. Wait, did I remember my CostCoins? Yeah... yeah I did.
"You sure you know were we're going?" Wanda said.
"Of course. I have been down this way many times."
"The Ancient One told me Magenta lived in the slums. This isn't looking too... slummy yet."
"I take the back way. To avoid confrontation."
"Ah. Bounty hunters, right?"
"Them... among other things." Karl sighed and pushed a low-hanging strip of packaging tape out of the way like it was a jungle vine.
"Like what other things?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Hagglers, the homeless. Dolls that want your money for one reason or another," Karl stuck his pointer finger in the air. "But all CostCoins lead to one source."
"Magenta?"
Karl swallowed and ducked again, leading Wanda beneath an industrial metal shelf. They passed stray balls of lint, an uncapped Sharpie marker, and thousands of cardboard tabs. This had to be the slums, Wanda thought. She let Karl crawl on ahead as she prepared herself to have her fortune read for the first time. She would finally be given a past, a past that her nightmare would confirm or deny, and then her future would begin from there.
She closed her eyes for only a second, concentrating.
A tight hand clasped shut around her mouth.
A tighter one pushed her back from the tunnel's ending light.
Wanda choked on the hand, spitting it away, and was about to scream before a voice spoke.
"Shh! Wanda! It's me, Kamala Khan."
"Kamala?"
Wanda blinked, realizing that the blur of eyes and mouth before her was the visitor from a few months back. She looked different now, with her eyes shining and her breathing rushed. Wanda knew this was serious.
"Don't go out there. Don't follow Karl. You're in dangerous territory. The bounty hunters are here, and I know that because I'm part of them, but I am not one of them. I want you to save yourself. Turn back and run."
"To the base?"
Kamala turned away. "The base has been destroyed. As soon as you left, it was gone. There's nothing left."
"The Ancient One?"
"Either dead or as good as dead... we can only pray that she is on the run. I know, Wanda, I loved her, too. She was like a mother to me. But now is the time to take action. You need to go. Go now!"
"But Karl..."
"Forget about him. He'll find his way out. There's no price on his head, unlike you." Kamala stretched out her arms and pulled Wanda back to the other side of the shelf.
"Wait, no! He's my friend. I'm not leaving without him."
"But your safety..."
"How many are out there?"
"Everyone."
"Loki?"
Kamala froze. "Yes."
"Let me go. I'm not afraid of him."
"Wanda- you don't understand. He wants your power more than anything. Taking that power will kill you."
"If he wants my power, does that mean his is not enough?"
Kamala bit her lip. "I don't know. He doesn't use them around us."
"Even better," Wanda pulled away gently from Kamala's dress. "Take care of yourself, Kamala. You're just a kid, I can see that. You deserve better."
"And you don't?" Kamala argued. She was already almost out of range.
"We'll see if I do." Wanda decided. And she brought herself into the other side of the light.
There was more people standing outside than she knew how to count. She always imagined the bounty hunters were a gang of four, maybe five. At least as many as the Ancient One had mentioned by name. But here there could have been dozens, hundreds of dozens, all of them bowed in waiting for command from the infamous Loki.
Yet he was just standing there, talking with Karl, neither of them fighting or escaping. This was not the Loki she had been told about, surely. He didn't look very friendly, only the abuse of the dolls obeying him could have hinted at that.
He was decidedly handsome, with chiseled features and hair as black as the darkness from which she had come. He was stunningly dangerous, and his lips spoke of her death before she had even met him. He changed, however, when their eyes met, and those same lips shriveled into shock when her blazing red met the teal of his eyes.
He wasn't worth her fear.
"There you are, little rat," Loki called out, mocking her, strengthening her loathing against him. "It seems that your hiding game is over, thanks to Karl here."
"Karl?" Wanda screamed.
Karl Mordo looked away. She wasn't worth even a final glance.
"What, you thought he was your ally?" Loki asked, approaching her. "Everyone turns to the bounty hunters eventually."
"Karl," Wanda tried again, her voice straining with desperation. "Look at me."
"Because he can offer something no others can. Freedom. See this?" Loki beckoned at the kneeling doll closest to him, and they handed him a large silver coin. "Money. Money is the only way to freedom here. And we have more to offer than you could ever imagine."
"And then what? If you are so rich, why do you want my powers?"
Loki sniffed. "Freedom is more than a happy home, little rat. It is... perfection. And I should be, I could be... I will be. As soon as I become Tier Four. You're all that's standing between me and my destiny."
"So you're not even a Blazing Soul? I could kill you with a flick of my wrist."
"You can certainly try." Loki smiled, and Wanda understood.
Loki's minions were rising slowly to their feet, finally catching on to the smell of death in the air.
Wanda tried for Karl one last time.
"They got the Ancient One, Karl! She's gone. Everything we had is gone. And you're going to let them win?"
Karl looked. His eyes were unsurprisingly unapologetic. There had never been a soul inside him. Not a decent one, anyways. "We're just trying to help you." He replied monotonously.
It was a lie, it was all a lie. Karl was the worst liar she had ever known.
Wanda choked back a sob.
"I'll never forgive you." She said, and then she erupted with a strong heat, red as blood, red as fire. Wanda's head ached and her eyes seared, but the pain felt amazing. No wonder Loki wanted to kill her. This was real freedom.
"Seize her!" Loki commanded. "That power will be mine."
The minions started rumbling towards her. Wanda blasted each one back with an energy beam from her hand. She aimed recklessly, firing and dodging, firing and dodging. When they grabbed at her head, she learned to duck. When they grabbed at her heels, she learned to fly.
Loki sent minion after minion, none of them a match for a Blazing Soul. Each one fought until they fainted or skittered away in surrender, sure to be punished by Loki later. She wasn't going to have that.
She sent forward a ribbon of light that seized Loki by the throat and brought him into the air with her. He clawed at his neck helplessly and he tried to force himself to cease breathing. Wanda could see him reminding himself he was a doll, that he was not alive as humans are, that he didn't need air to survive. The struggle did not convince him.
"You took everything from me," Wanda growled, her voice sounding like a vengeful god's. "You're nothing but a Rogue Soul. I used to be one, too. And you want to know what happened to me?" Wanda grit her teeth and began to loosen her magic's grip on Loki's throat to focus on his joints, planning to tear him limb from limb. "I died."
Loki screamed in agony while his minions down below watched. Some in horror, some in delight.
"You were... a Rogue?" Loki gasped.
She nodded. "And I learned my lesson. Did you?"
Loki chuckled as the last of the magic left his throat. Wanda suddenly became chill, and the air smelled like death again. "I... will... never!" Loki shouted, whipping out a scepter and aiming the pointed end at Wanda's shoulder.
She threw him off just in time, sending his tortured body into an array of boxes. She herself fell into a quarry of cardboard, able to see everything yet not participate. Wanda had never seen such chaos, such destruction. And it was all from her.
It was worth it.
The minions scrambled after where they presumed her body to be, and Wanda covered her face, exhausted and bracing for the end.
"She went this way! This way!" Cried the juvenile tone of Kamala Khan, who pointed the hungry bounty hunters down a different path. They shrieked in fury and shoved around each-other, desperate to be the first to please their master, who they had forgotten in the mess of it all. The noise faded, and that was the end of it.
Wanda rolled over, under a crowded, cave-like shelf, and tried to steady her quaking nerves with a few deep breaths. She was safe, for now. She knew that from now on, every day would have to be a dance with death. Wanda could be up to the challenge, but for how long? Kamala and Karl were both bounty hunters, the Ancient One no longer existed. She had no where to go, no one to aid in her mission for survival.
Wanda believed she would have a short and unhappy existence.
She believed she was, and had always been, alone.
Until the cave spoke.
"Psst. Over here!" Someone whispered behind her, their breath brushing Wanda's ear.
She fired at them before even taking a glance over her shoulder.
"Easy! We're just trying to help you."
"That's exactly what Karl said before he betrayed me!" Wanda cried. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw three action figures crouching there under the tarp, just as much in hiding as she was. There was a Captain America doll, an Iron Man doll, and one other that Wanda could not yet identify. He was hiding too well. Almost like he had been doing it for a long time.
"Who is Karl?" Captain America asked.
"Karl Marx?" Iron Man piped up.
"You really don't know?"
"No, we don't. Now please, come with us. We're heading out of this place."
"District five?" Wanda said. It wasn't much, but if she could escape the realm of bounty hunters, anything had to be better than that.
"No. The warehouse. We're leaving this whole damn place. Find ourselves a real home, with a human."
A home. A real one, maybe. With windows to see the sunshine, and love to fill the days instead of fear. God, that would be so nice. She could only imagine her room back at the Ancient One's base-though it was gone- magnified tenfold, with color and light. She would be taken into the arms of a human and give Wanda her own special place in that home. That would probably be the nicest thing that could ever happen to her.
But Magenta. She'd be leaving the man who could give Wanda the only thing she wanted.
She had come to a crossroads.
Which one was more worth it in the end?
Die early- but have identity? Or live in mystery- but live forever?
"I used to work with Loki," a gruff voice spoke up. "He won't rest until you're dead. It's best if you leave and never come back."
The words had come from the third doll, the one who had been hiding in the shadows. He looked like he'd been through more than he liked to let on. There was the telltale tattoo on his wrist that she'd heard about, the engagement tattoo he shared with his dead wife.
"You're Clint number 42," Wanda realized, pointing a shaky finger his way. "I'm so sorry."
Clint 42 cleared his throat, probably thankful his purple glasses could disguise most of his emotion. "What's done is done. Let's all let go of the past."
Wanda decided it then. She was done with death.
The Captain America doll smiled, a smile unlike Karl's. "We could use a gal like you."
"A gal. Yeah." Wanda said, her spirits falling. "I'm a girl."
"Then you're the girl for us," the Iron Man figure replied, beckoning her to come with them. "Come with us. We're going to find a home together."
Wanda hadn't expected that. She thought they would find her a box and send her away to brave the world alone. But this... this was a family. Another one. "The four of us?" She asked.
"Four... plus a couple more," the Iron Man titled his head from side to side. "It's a collection."
Wanda took a glance over her shoulder.
And what she saw behind her was a life she had already outgrown.
She faced forward again. She took a deep breath.
"I'm in."
(To be concluded in part four, coming in October.)

-Loki

T.E.A. with Chris and Tony

Time for T.E.A. with Chris and Tony, on which I take them on their very first date together!

***

"She? What are you looking at?"

The words I'd been scanning broke their absorption into my brain, and my eyes fell on something else. A face peeked up over the side of my laptop, half obscured my the little plastic buffers that kept the screen from shattering if you shut it too roughly. But I didn't need to see the face to know exactly who it was.

"Morning, Chris. Just reading."

The miniature soldier stepped onto my keyboard, his weight under the limit needed to press any of the keys. "That looks awfully familiar."

I nodded and resumed reading, realizing now that Chris didn't need anything. He, exhibiting the instinct my other dolls possessed, was simply coming to check on me. I was starting college again soon- by the end of the month- and I was sure that they were trying to make up for all the time we were going to miss together. 

"This is the blog post Loki published a bit ago. I like reading what you guys have written."

Chris chuckled. "Hopefully not to critique us too harshly."

I used my pointer finger to give Chris the doll-sized equivalent of a noogie. "Don't worry, it's not anything you've written. You're in this one, though."

"What?" Chris said, almost in disbelief, until he saw the title. "Oh yeah... Loki interviewed the PSA a while ago. He asked for permission to publish our stories, but I didn't think he'd actually go through with it."

"You're famous, now, Chris," I grinned, then noticed the blush in his cheeks. Actually, it was all over him. Cheeks, chin, and forehead, probably, had it not been for the mask he could never remove. "Are you ashamed?"

"No, no, I'm not ashamed," said Chris, but he sounded uncertain. "It's just that- now you know everything. Everything between, uh... Tony and me."

I rolled my eyes, though not rudely. "Please, Chris, I knew that already. You two were lovebirds from the day I knew you, and..." I gestured at the screen, pointing out the scene where the two of them discovered where their hearts truly belonged. "Looks like you were lovebirds from day one, too."

Chris's blush deepened in a happier way. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, and I think it's sweet. This magnet stuff is really fascinating. I wish humans had that feature. Would make dating a lot easier," I laughed. There was a reason I had been avoiding playing the dating game for so long. I much preferred to study the love lives of other people. "Hey, did you guys ever go in dates in the warehouse?"

"What?"

"You know, dates. Haven't you ever asked Tony out before? Has he ever asked you?"

Chris's expression said it all. They lived in a warehouse for months, if not a year, with no where else to go. Their world was small and out of their control. They had never gone out because there was no place to go.

"Okay, that's it. I'm going to fix this." I clapped my hands, our agreed call to summon the Avengers. It was Vision who showed first.

"Can I be of assistance, She?" He asked, levitating plainly over my desk. 

"Grab Tony for me, please. I have a proposal for him."

"Of course." Vision replied, bowing away in flight.

Tony returned seconds later, at first not taking notice of me, despite being the biggest living thing in the room.

"You know, Cap, I expected more of a romantic proposal from you. This is just..." Tony suddenly realized I was there and his words caught in his throat. I thought I heard him swear under his breath. "And now She knows."

"She always did." Chris admitted.

"Is it that obvious?" Tony asked, alighting next to Chris.

I cleared my throat. "I have a proposal for you boys. Would you be interested in travelling with me and my family to a vacation spot about two hours away?"

"Oh, when Vision said proposal, I didn't know that-"

Chris elbowed Tony's side.

"Ouch! Yeah, okay. Sounds great. What do you think, Chris? Our first date?"

"Took us long enough."

"Well then! Get ready, boys, we're going out to town." I decided.

"But you said the town was two hours away...?" 

"I didn't say it was my town."

It was a town called Nashville, though probably not the one you're thinking of. We lived too far away to visit frequently, but not too far to call it inaccessible. We had gone camping there once, in a two-story cabin with a wood stove that was perfect for roasting marshmallows. That same weekend, we rode horses through the woods and strapped ourselves to a zipline over eighty feet in the air, and if you looked hard enough, you could see a silver shimmer of fish in the creek beneath you.

Yes, that was quite the vacation, and one I wouldn't soon forget. And even if a true adventure was out the question today, it was still nice to poke around main street.

I heard two loud raps on my door before my sister burst in, not even a second after the sound.

"Mom wants to know if you're ready."

"Just a minute," I replied, my back still turned to her as I shut my laptop. "Chris and Tony are coming with me. Say hi."

Chris saluted awkwardly, and Tony waved.

My sister sneered, frightened, and shut the door.

"She's pleasant." Tony commented.

"Maybe not, but at least she understands," I sighed. "My parents never would. You guys will have to hide in my backpack or pocket for most of the time. But don't worry, I'll make it all worth it."

"We know you will," said Chris, grabbing onto Tony's hand. "We're ready."

While Chris and Tony rode hidden in my lap during the car ride, I was observing the outside world. There wasn't much to see until we had crossed the town border into "official" Nashville territory. God, I missed this place. Like so many other things I did with my dolls, it was a place that took residence in my soul. Nashville was just one of the many threads that wove its way into the fabric of my life at an early age. I remembered very well the sweep of the sky, its feathery clouds and crisp blue hue. The air here was tainted with the smell of leather and popcorn, mostly, but you could get a taste of every shop you passed before stepping inside. Smoke, flowers, newspaper, pizza grease. Down the cobblestone alleyway was a pottery store where I'd broken a honeypot. Behind the ice cream store was a crystal vendor where I was haggled into buying a chunk of amethyst for its rumored "healing properties". Across the street was the coffee shop that never looked busy until you went in, and by then you just had to buy something to make it worth the trouble. I had my first espresso there.

We paid for parking in some lot beside a hotel that looked haunted, even in the daytime, and stopped for a quick lunch at el restaurante across the street. It was mostly empty, with just the decorative alebrije parrots and lizards to keep us company. I would have to ask Chris and Tony later if they had life within them, too, like the other dolls I knew. At least they had the decency to keep away from our chips and salsa.

Since my family and I had been here loads of times (once per summer), we knew all the good places to go. The toy store was our first, even if my sister and I were definitely the oldest customers there.

The interior of the toy store was awash in colors so bright and bold, my eyes nearly hurt, but Chris and Tony felt at home. I kept them in my breast pocket and had them point out all the things they wanted to get a better look at. It was like being taxi for a bunch of eager children.

Tony noticed a shelf with rows and rows of dolls, mostly animals, but on the top shelf were the obligatory princesses and dames. They were a handful of stately ladies, all in ill-fitting Tudor gowns of gaudy shades. They stood neatly in a line, like property, and proud to be so, probably expecting a suitor to come and take them away from the worst affliction of all- boredom.

And that suitor did come, but he was already taken.

Still, Chris didn't mind of Tony wanted to charm them, if only to take the girls' minds off their sad states.

I set the boys down on the shelf and walked away so that the dolls could speak safely. The girls were immediately all over Tony, but Chris strayed behind.

"A hero and a soldier!" One of the blue duchesses exclaimed. She wasted no time getting to the pint of her greeting. "Glad of you to visit us! Do you like to dance?"

Tony took the first blue lady's hand and raised it to his mask in a faux gentleman's kiss. 

"We're going to have to be sneaky about it." Tony whispered. 

The lady in blue nodded in understanding. Her eyes fell on me, but she didn't stiffen. "Your human can only hide you for so long."

"Exactly."

"Not one king or knight has come to see us," the lady in pink pouted. "We believe they've all been bought."

Tony planted a kiss on her fingers, too. "Well, we can't stay long either, unfortunately."

The girl's eyes widened. "We?"

"Yes... this is my boyfriend, Chris." Tony said, motioning Chris to come nearer. 

"Oh, so you two are... beg pardon, sirs. I mustn't interfere with your relationship."

"You're not interfering at all. We're here to have a good time. And Chris loves to dance."

The lady fluttered her eyelashes at Chris. "As do I."

Chris took the pink lady's hand, and Tony juggled the seven girls in blue. I turned my face away politely, pretending to be enveloped with a set of jacks to give them some privacy. 

I heard some of the girls ask where they were from, who had brought them here, and begged them to stay. I felt a shard of pity grow in my heart, but knew that I couldn't bring any of them home with me. I had no money today. We were only window-shopping.

The bell on the shop's door chimed, and I hurried over to collect Chris and Tony mid-waltz. They bid the ladies a quick farewell and I shoved them in my pocket, moving quickly before I realized the door had only opened for a customer to leave.

Oh.

"She- look over there." Said Chris, tapping on my collarbone. 

I was pleasantly surprised to see a perfect photo opportunity at the other end of the store. A rotating shelf had been stocked full of the "World's Smallest" brand, miniature toys that ranged from Rubik's cubes to Uno. 

"We definitely need to get that pop-it scooter on the bottom." I said. "If only you two were toddlers."

"Yeah... I doubt even Kate would like that now." Chris said.

"Whatever, we're getting a picture with that thing. It. Is. Adorable," Tony replied. "Just like someone else I know." He stared pointedly at Chris, and Chris stared back before the heat in his face got the best of him.

And so they did.

"We're going to the candy store next," my sister told me in hushed tones. "And hide your dolls! People will think you're shoplifting."
"You don't think I know that?"
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But hurry up."
"Just one more stop," Tony reassured her. "I must see that box over there. The purple one."
My sister bit her lip and followed me as I carried Chris and Tony to the shelf of activities, all with do-it-yourself kits and things of that sort; toys you would want to take out on a rainy day.

"It's just a magic set." My sister stated.

"Yeah, that's why we came here. You may not know this, but Chris and I are master magicians."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," Chris laughed. "Doctor Strange will be jealous."

"Good thing we don't have any around, then." Tony tapped the side of the box. "Four-hundred and fifteen different tricks. That's insane."

"We're not buying it." Sis said, taking the words out of my mouth.

"Hey, it says 'world's greatest'," Tony said with a wink in his mask. "Are you sure you don't want to try it out?"

"For thirty dollars, I think not." I said, pulling the dolls into my arms again. Actually, I wasn't sure of the price. Nothing was labeled here. Whether that marketing scheme was clever or stupid, I couldn't tell.
We left the toy store without a word to the princess dolls or to my sister. Some things were better left unsaid. The candy store was on the other end of town, so I made the effort to pretend to search for things in shops where I could easily sneak in and take pictures.

First, the pottery store where I had broken the honeypot some odd years ago. A handmade replacement stood in the windowsill now, ignorant of its brother's fate.

Then the leather shop next door, where Chris snuggled up and got stuck in a bundle of scrap leather.

There were plenty of hats, too, none of them currently fashionable. Not unless you were going for either "cowboy" or "steampunk", or both.

We passed by a pasta restaurant, which was always closed, but the window display was unusual enough for us to stop for a picture.

Then came my favorite part, and the last stop of the day before the absolutely necessary dessert break at ice cream shop. The candy store was split into two parts, one side for adults and the other for children. Since I was split between interests at my age, I chose from both. Blue rock candy from the kids' side, and then marveling at the giant tea display on the other, unsure of which flavor to choose, if I should even choose a flavor at all. Luckily, I had some not-so-helpful helpers to make me decide. I had placed them on a nearby jam shelf to get a better look at the selection.
"Ooh, this one's called Christmas Eve." Chris suggested.
"Get it? Like Chris? Chris-mas Eve?" Tony cackled.
"It's August." I said. "Too early."
"Hm... Sweet Pineapple?"
"Again, August. Too summery."
"This one's supposed to taste like Thanksgiving Day." Said Chris, wrinkling his nose at an orange-and-brown box.
"Ew, what is that supposed to taste like? Turkey and stuffing?"

"Never know until you try." Tony shrugged.
"There are some things I do not need to try," I said. "But you're getting closer. An autumnal tea would be nice. We're almost to that season."
Chris snapped his fingers. "I got it. Pumpkin Spice. That way, when we get home, you can brew it for us, and then this will be a true T.E.A. post."
I bit my lip and reached for the only aluminum tin, by far the largest helping of the pumpkin spice tea. I'd never had it before, and I hated the coffee from Starbucks by the same name. If I didn't like it, I had wasted 50 teabags. But if I did, this would last me through the next year.
"Do it. Do it." Tony hissed as maliciously as he could without laughing again.
"Delicious tea. Tasty leaf juice." Chris giggled, echoing his boyfriend's tone.
I put the tin in my shopping basket, much to the amusement of Chris and Tony.
"Y'all are a bunch of weirdos," I said. "Do you want a picture in the candy barrel by the door?"

My father slid me a twenty and I paid for my candy and tea, and then it became a hike to find the best possible route out of town so that we could hit the ice cream store and find the car without going out of the way.
By this time of the day, the walkway was almost cleared of people as the sun stood at a comfortable four o'clock in the sky. I think I made a good decision at the tea shop. It was certainly starting to look like fall outside. Wheelbarrows of pumpkins were at nearly every intersection in Nashville, and the street was sprinkled with a few odd leaves of the same orange and yellow hues.

These same leaves crunched beneath our feet on the way back to car as we scraped ice cream from Styrofoam bowls. I couldn't imagine being a doll. Being alive, yet not able to enjoy everything life had offer. Freedom above all else, but also ice cream. They couldn't eat ice cream or drink tea or grind rock candy between their teeth, not that I was going to do the latter, anyways. The rock candy wasn't for me.
I had to idea to give the it to my sister, who never says she wants anything from the candy store until we've already left, and she happily took it, our previous squabble in the toy store now long lost from her mind. And always being one for experiments, she put rock candy crystals in her ice cream, making the Blue Moon flavor look even bluer by the time we were driving home again.
When we returned and reunited with the dogs, it was six, yet none of us were hungry. My sister retreated to her room and my parents to the garage to work on the fence we were building before it was too dark out to see.
It was the perfect time for tea.

We set up on the desk, same place we'd been before leaving for Nashville. I brought them their own teacup, and a chocolate croissant on a porcelain plate to make things feel more like a real date. (Chocolate croissants are romantic, right?)
And then it was just the three of us, smelling tea and spilling tea for what felt like a good half hour. Even if we had spent the whole day together, I could never learn enough about the world of dolls. And the dolls, too, wanted to know about me. It was a happy and equal trade of information.
Then, out of the blue, Tony said, "I don't know about you, but I've had such a good day that I could kiss somebody."
Silence darkened the room.
"You mean that seriously?" Chris asked, knowing that Tony meant him.
"Only if you mean it seriously." Tony murmured.
"Go ahead, I won't watch." I snickered, covering my face with my hand and peeking between my fingers.
"Liar," Chris said, but he didn't seem to mind. His focus went back to Tony. "How are we supposed to do this...? With your mask, and mine...?"
Tony sighed. "See, that's the problem with you, Cap. You think too much. Just do."

Tony took Chris's head in his hands, leaned closer, and... well... I don't believe I have to tell you what happened next. I'll just let that be between Chris and Tony.

See you when it's time for T.E.A.,

She

Pocket-Sized Avengers: Assembling the Heroes P.2 (Clint)

Chapter three: Let Me Go 
Clint Barton number 42 in warehouse 3 raised his arm, stiff as steel, before him, grasping his bow. Not even his fingers trembled as she loaded an arrow into the rest. He squinted slightly, mainly relying on the purple glasses he wore to keep him focused on shapes instead of colors, which helped a lot as an archer.
He was the expert. The master, even. The bowmaster. Yeah, that had a pretty good ring to it.
Across the way, Clint Barton number 39 made two fingers and pointed from himself to the box beside him- ASL for "go".
Clint 42 exhaled and sent the arrow flying.
Being carried along with it was a beautiful white banner- fashioned from napkins and packing string- which hit its mark perfectly in the box Clint 39 had set up. A gleeful cheering was heard on the warehouse floor below, and the Clints knew that their jobs were done. They flashed each-other a thumbs up before hopping down and joining the crowd.
On the ground, Clint 42 swam through a sea of dolls to meet his client. CostCoins were being exchanged, party hats were being passed around, and everyone either had a laugh in their throat or tears of joy on their face, as was common with a wedding. Clint 42 and Clint 39 had made a job of this, not charging much, of course, just enough to get by. They just wanted to know that their archery skills were being useful for something. Making people happy, they thought, was the best way to feel useful.
They weren't the only ones vying to meet the happy couple, but it didn't take much to get by. The other dolls knew them well, and their occupation commanded respect. The Clints were greeted warmly by the bride, Mary Jane Watson number 12, and the groom, Spider-Man number 76, as soon as their faces were seen. Mary Jane beckoned them closer to better hear each-other over the noise.
"Thank you, Hawkeyes. This means the world-"
"Clint, please. Let's not be so informal." Clint 39 said, nudging Clint 42 playfully.
Mary Jane nodded, her dark red lips curving into a genuine just-married smile. "Thank you, Clint. You've made our wedding even more special."
"Hell, without your help we might not have had a wedding at all! Haha!" The Spider-Man figure continued laughing before being abruptly cut off by the point of a high-heeled shoe being driven into his foot. "Thanks... fellas." He muttered, grabbing the toe of his suit.
"So, which one of you started this business?" MJ asked.
"Clint 39 has been doing this for longer than I have-" Clint 42 began.
"-But Clint 42 wanted us to take the job." Clint 39 finished. "I just wanted to take a nap. A big one."
"Well, we're certainly glad you decided not to. Stay a while, and enjoy the afterparty! I'm sure there's plenty more dolls here that would love to hire your services. By the way, are you two brothers?"
"Do we look like we could be?" Clint 42 asked, pulling Clint 39's face closer to his own. "I mean, I get it. We both have the... same-shaped head."
MJ laughed. "Okay, so you're not. I guess I can't refer to you as the 'Hawkeye Brothers', can I?"
"No, you can, but it'll just get really confusing."
Someone shouted Spider-Man's name and Mary Jane excused himself from the conversation. Clint 42 bowed away and looked up at the banner, which hung a few feet above their heads. It was hardly beautiful, but at least the newlyweds were happy.
"Yeah... that's really awkward." Clint 39 suddenly said.
"What is? Aside from you?" Clint 42 replied, beginning to navigate their way out of the crowd.
"Har har," said Clint 39. "I'm just saying it would be really awkward if we were brothers, because there's someone I want to introduce you to. My sister, Tatanya," he paused, and Clint 42 could sense something else was going on behind his silence. "You see, I'm been planning something for a while. I'm setting you two up for a blind date."
"Um... like, now?"
"Yup. You in for it?"
Clint 42 stopped in his tracks. "For the last time, Clint, just because you have a wife and I don't doesn't mean I suddenly need one."
"No, no, but think of it this way. If you do marry my sister, we'll become brothers-in-law! And then we can finally call ourselves the Hawkeye Brothers like MJ said."
"That can't be the only reason you're doing this."
"Nah. It isn't. I think Tatanya has a crush on you."
"Dolls don't get crushes. And they don't go on dates."
"Perfect! Two rules broken in one day. That's a record for us," Clint 39 got behind Clint 42 and began guiding the way back to his storage area, which he shared with other Hawkeye dolls of his same variety, and apparently, his sister Tatanya. "Come on, dude. Just this one date. And then you can forget all about her and we can be friends again."
Wait... was that blackmail? "Are you saying we're enemies until I do this for you?"
"Well, no... but also yes."
Clint 42 got pushed into a hidden space underneath one of the racks. The spreads of pink confetti on the floor marked it as either a mess or a girls' territory. He decided it was the latter, judging by the alluring feminine silhouette in the corner.
"You two have fun! But not too much fun, you hear?" Clint 39 winked. "She's still my sister." He shot a grappling hook into the air and disappeared in a gust of wind and a blur of black and purple.
Clint 42 sighed and took off his glasses to try and adjust to the darkness. "Hello? Is anyone down here? Tatanya? Your brother sent me... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"You're not supposed to do anything," Said a sultry voice, which Clint assumed was coming from the figure in the shadows. Like a jungle cat, she emerged slowly and smoothly, and the light caught each part of her body one at a time. The waves in her dark brown hair. The shine of her red leather jacket. The mischief in her bright green eyes. "Hullo, Clint number 42."
"Hello, Tatanya." Clint said, unphased. Already this felt more like a chore than a date. No force within him, being a magnet or something else, pulled him towards Tatanya.
"My brother told you my name?"
"No, I'm a psychic." Clint replied, deadpan.
"Are you now?" Tatanya's green eyes lit up, even more so. "I didn't think Hawkeye dolls were capable of that. But I am."
"I know. You're Scarlet Witch."
"You don't sound impressed."
Clint had to lie. "No, I am. I've just had a long day, with the wedding and all. And then your brother dragged me here immediately after. I don't know what I'm getting into."
"Well, I was just having a girl's night out before you came by," Tatanya replied, draping her arms over Hawkeye's neck and leaning forward. "You could come join us if you like."
The offer was certainly tempting, and so was Tatanya. Yet, he probably shouldn't. It was a Wednesday, and Wednesday nights were "preparation" nights. "Oh, I definitely would, but I would hate to ruin ladies' day. Nice meeting you. Bye." Clint made a step forward, ready to leave Tatanya, but she tugged back on his wrist.
"Come on. Please?" She begged, sticking out her supple lower lip. "Just for a little while."
Clint glanced down, finally looking her directly in the eye. They were green, like he had seen before, but there was a soft pink glow to them now. Maybe it was just the reflection from all the confetti. Regardless, she was awfully pretty, and Clint couldn't deny that.
"Fine. But I'm not dancing on the table for you girls or anything."
Tatanya laughed. "Of course not. That's my job."
Clint wasn't sure if that was a joke or not, but as soon as he was led under another shelving unit and into the "party room", he got his answer. Marvel Legends and All Stars figures, all female, were making the most of the darkness under the shelving unit. Dolls who had powers displayed them, making glowing creatures out of colorful smoke and fireworks, then commanded them to run around and entertain the guests. Dolls who had skintight suits or indecent clothing danced suggestively on boxes that acted as stages. Dolls who could do neither of those talked, laughed, teased each-other, stumbled around in high heels, and clinked glasses together, pretending to sip the nectar of the gods from empty cups.
"Here it is," Clint's guide said. "And before I let you go to have some fun..." She winked. "My name is not Tatanya."
"Then why did you answer to it?" Clint asked, getting infuriated.
"My brother, Clint 39, knew you would listen to me over him. So I did anything to get you to meet the real Tatanya," Not-Tatanya flexed her fingers, and the pink magic surrounding them faded away. "Anything."
Clint took his wrist from her hand. "You hexed me!"
The Scarlet Witch doll shrugged. "I did what I had to do."
"Oh, you whor-"
Scarlet Witch wagged her finger in the air disapprovingly. "Ah-ah-ah! This is my party, and I make the rules. No foul language here. Unless we're talking about the ladies onstage," she flashed a glance at one of the original Wasp dolls and laughed shortly. "Now come on, loverboy. Let's take you to your real date."
Clint passed through the swarm of dolls, tracking the bright red jacket the Scarlet Witch wore. It was clear that the ladies at the party weren't used to having a man around. Hands glided over him and sweet nothings were murmured in his ears, but he paid them no attention. Instead, an antisocial doll sitting off to the side had caught his eye. She was watching the others, appearing bored, but not yet bored enough to leave. There was something about her that intrigued him.
"Please tell me that's Tatanya." Clint whispered.
Scarlet Witch had caught his words. "Yep, that's her. Tati's my best friend."
Clint 39 thought to be polite, despite everything. "And what's your name?"
"Emily," the doll replied quietly. "It's not exactly a party-girl name, is it?"
"Does it have to be?"
"No... but I always felt like I was more outside than in. I blamed my name. Tati's that way, too, but I never knew why," Emily suddenly changed her tone. "But she might feel differently about parties once she sees you, loverboy."
Clint scoffed. "Sure." He was beginning to get nervous. Each second that passed by was a second closer to this mystery girl.
Emily strutted up to Tatanya as Clint lingered behind, trying to steady himself.
"Tati, your date is here." Emily announced.
Tatanya cooly glanced up from her empty glass. Her eyes scanned Clint in a way that made him believe she was reading his soul, but a hint of amusement in her gaze gave him some hope that she might have seen some good in there.
"So you're the man who was sent to entertain me." Tatanya said.
"Yeah, you watch out, I'm a mean juggler." Clint said before he could stop himself.
It worked. The corner of Tatanya's mouth twitched up in the smallest smile. She stuck out her hand.
"What's your name, Agent?"
They shook. "Clint. I'm boring. Your name though... it's very pretty."
"Thank you. I chose it myself."
Clint laughed. "You serious?"
"Yeah, her real name is Natasha. Just like every other Black Widow doll." Emily cut in, smirking at her friend.
Tatanya scowled lightly. "Sure, go ahead and tell my date that there's nothing special about me. That really pulls them in."
Clint thought she was special.
"Not like it matters, Tati. Your natural charm will pull him in." Said Emily.
"The man is right here, Em. You can speak to him. Like a person. For example..." Tatanya folded her arms over the table and addressed Clint. "Sit and talk with me for a while, Clint. We can people watch and judge them silently."
Clint picked the closest chair to Tatanya. "Oh good. That's my favorite thing to do."
"I'll go ahead and leave you two alone. Be good, loverboy." Emily said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and walking onto the dance floor.
"Emily's your best friend?" Clint asked. It was the first question that came to mind.
Tatanya nodded and sighed.
"She told me she was never in with the crowd. Yet there she is, right in the middle of things. It looks like everyone loves her."
Tatanya licked her lips and looked around. "We all 'love' each-other here. What with the atmosphere and the energy... but when the lights come back on and the humans come in for work... that disappears. Enemies become enemies again, and friends turn away. We ignore each-other and grow distant. That's life from inside of a cardboard box," Tatanya paused and leaned closer to Clint. "Not that you're any different, are you? We all have a doll's experience."
Clint shrugged. "Yeah, but I got more privilege than you would think.  I work with Emily's brother. We do weddings and such. People always want someone to fire a banner across the way whenever the couple kisses. It's become a tradition around here."
Tatanya cocked her head and ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "That's interesting. I never get invited to weddings."
"And I never get invited to parties."
"Really? It's your first time? How do you like it?"
Clint was watching everything from the outside and was not entertained. He felt cramped and outlandish seeing plastic bodies writhe and feeling the music pulse like an irregular heartbeat beneath him.
"To be honest... I'm not enjoying it at all."
"Oh, thank god," Tatanya tossed her drink cup over her shoulder. She held her hand out her hand to Clint. "Wanna leave?"
Clint paused. "But what will Emily think?"
Tatanya laughed. "Bold of you to assume that Emily thinks. No, we'll be fine. If you want to leave, we can leave. I'll take you somewhere better."
"Like where?"
Tatanya cocked her head to the unit above them. "Up."
Clint felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn't afraid of heights. In fact, he loved them. He felt free when he stood so high above the earth, even if the earth was only a warehouse filled with metal and cardboard.
He took her hand then- for multiple reasons.
Tatanya looked pleased, and she began guiding him gently to a makeshift rope ladder that hung down from the top shelf.  Clint was a pretty good climber, but Tatanya was possibly even better. She was always one step ahead of him.
On the way there, Tatanya explained herself. "Clint 39 has tried to set me up with many dates before. I take each one of them to my hideout. If my date likes it, they can stay. If they don't, I bail," Tatanya shrugged. "It's a simple strategy. We can end it here if you like. You'll never have to see this face again."
"No, no," Clint stuttered, watching Tatanya from below. He couldn't see much besides her hair, which was the color of a sunset, and sunsets were rare to see when one was cooped up in a warehouse for most of your life. "I like your face."
Natasha snorted. "You're such a dork. How did you even get this job?"
Clint froze, gripping tightly onto the rope. "What job?"
"The wedding one. Firing banners around and shit. Emily's brother isn't the one is charge, is he?"
"He was for a while. Before I came."
"How long is a while?"
"Um, two weddings? One for Peggy Carter 22 and Steve Rogers 58, and another like a week after for Thor Odinson 66 and Lady Sif-"
Tatanya held a hand up, the other holding the rest of her weight. "Don't tell me. I've heard this story. Lady Sif went by Allætha Androder, didn't she?"
"Yeah..." Clint sighed in embarrassment. "Clint 39 reached out to me for help after that disaster."
"I can't believe it! Allætha Androder was the talk of the town for like, months. Catching an arrow in midair isn't easy, trust me. And to do it upside down, in a bridal veil? No thanks."
"I was surprised people hired us after that. After what happened with Allætha Androder."
"Well, she's still married to Thor, so you must have done something right," Tatanya resumed her climb. "Or maybe they felt safer because they got a better archer."
"Why are you being so flirtatious?"
Tatanya exhaled. "I'm not being flirtatious, I'm being nice. Are people not normally nice to you?"
"Sure... Clint 39 is."
They had finally reached the top of the shelving unit, which had to be at least 20 feet above the ground. Tatanya pulled herself up and waited until Clint was able to stand. It was like a whole different world so high up. Red and green lights blinked quietly in an indistinguishable pattern. The chatter of dolls was more like white noise than conversation, and there were no humans in sight. Clint hadn't realized how small things were. Small enough to take the world in your fist and claim it as your own.
"This is the Upperground, my personal secret hideout." Tatanya said.
"It's amazing."
"You're not just saying that, are you?"
"Why would I be?" Clint replied.
"This place is very important to me. I wanted to make sure you were being truthful." Tatanya whispered.
"Right, or you'll kick me out and the date is over?"
"Exactly," Tatanya agreed. "Anyways, can I trust you?"
"With what?"
"I've got something for you here," Tatanya disappeared behind one of the upper boxes. The only clue Clint had to her activity was the sound of steel scraping steel. "Well, no. Us. I call it Magic in a Bottle." Tatanya came out with a shiny metal container with a screw-top lid.
Clint recognized the shape. "You're kidding me."
"I don't kid," Tatanya said. She took out two bottlecaps and started pouring out the first "glass". "Found it on the floor one day under one of the racks. Apparently humans carry this shit with them when they're working. But I tend to use it more for relaxing."
Clint carefully took his glass and stared down at the drink. In all the weddings he had attended, never had he ever been offered alcohol. He had seen it sometimes, the forbidden fruit of dollkind, sitting around and looking pretty. Most dolls didn't care for alcohol. Why bother having it if you can't drink it, after all? But then there were some dolls who treasured the stuff, insisting that their wedding absolutely must have at least a small amount. Otherwise, it wasn't considered a real party.
"This is potent stuff. Only reserved for special occasions." Clint remarked.
"We're on a date. It is a special occasion."
"Why does Clint 39 keep setting you up with dates, anyways?"
Tatanya looked beyond, to the warehouse door, which was locked and armed every night. "He thinks I'm lonely. Always sitting out at parties. Going up to the top of the units all the time. To mope, he thinks. Little does he know I have a friend," she chuckled and swirled the bottlecap around in her hand. "So what about you? I thought Hawkeye was a family man. Do you have anyone special in your life?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be here," Clint sighed. "No offense to you. I would like a family one day. But work comes first."
"Your work can't be too busy. It's not like dolls around here are getting married on the daily."
Clint felt Tatanya's eyes on his face and her stare burned hotter than fire.
"We should make a toast," Clint said quickly. He raised his glass in the air. "To this cruddy blind date."
"To this cruddy blind date." Tatanya agreed.
They both exhaled deeply, and for a second, it was like exchanging the breath of life.
Clint's memory after that came in small, pleasant spurts. Clint spilling his drink all over his suit and Tatanya laughing so hard she fell over. Tatanya asking him if he could really juggle. Clint telling her stories of the worst weddings he'd ever attended. The distant lights becoming blurry, like a watery reflection on the sea. Tatanya putting her head on Clint's shoulder. Tatanya asking Clint to call her by her real name, Natasha.
The clearest memory was the best one.
He had just finished telling her about his first- and at the time, last- heroic encounter where he had saved a bunch of defective dolls from being tossed out at the factory in which he was made.
"You're a different one, Clint," Natasha said, grinning secretly. "The other Hawkeyes are lazy and goofy, but you... you have the real aura of a leader about you."
"Have you been speaking to Magenta?" Clint had asked.
"Hm?"
"The matchmaker, Magenta? He's a Magneto doll with pink paint on the side of his face. Apparently he will tell you your magnet match for ten CostCoins each. I just thought you were speaking to him because 'aura' is something he usually says."
"Have you ever been to see him?"
"No, but I've known friends who have."
"Damn, that must have ruined their lives. Imagine knowing exactly who you are going to be tied to for the rest of your life."
Clint shrugged. "I don't think it's all that bad. Makes dating easier, that's for sure."
"Dating," Natasha scoffed and turned away. "Love is for children."
"Pfft. Have you ever even seen a kid?"
"Like a human one or a doll one?"
"Like... does it matter? A kid is a kid."
"I was kidding, you know."
"I know."
"Love isn't for children."
Clint pushed away from Natasha, feeling appalled by her for the first time. "What?"
"It's for everyone," she said quietly. She stole Clint's glasses and pushed them onto her face. "God, that was corny. Remind me never to say that again."
"I thought it was cute."
"Of course you would, you dork," Natasha curled around his side again, pulling him into her arms. "Kiss me, Clint."
Time stopped. She had asked him to kiss her. Clint was on Cloud Nine, and he knew that this moment had to be savored above all else. Still, he couldn't resist dissolving into the hazy dream that was his kiss with Natasha. His first kiss, actually. It had to be something special.
It was actually quite horrible.
Neither of them had ever kissed anyone before.
They had no idea what they were doing.
Their teeth knocked against each-other. Natasha bit the side of his cheek. Clint had to suppress a sneeze.
Natasha was the first to pull away. She wiped her mouth, disgusted.
"Clint- let's never do that again."
Clint nodded, trying to rub the blush from his cheeks. "Agreed."
Many months and trips to the Upperground later, Clint 42 and Natasha/Tatanya kissed again.
This was the kiss that made them husband and wife.
"I'm sorry... but that wasn't any less disgusting." Clint laughed, his voice intermingling with the cries and cheers of the doll community that had gathered there.
"Allow me to wipe your mouth for you," said Natasha, bringing her hands up to his face. "Don't worry, I'll make it look romantic."
"Okay, should I...?" Clint fumbled around with his own hands, torn between making things look normal for their audience and making Natasha happy.
"Don't worry, honey, I got it," Natasha beamed. Her eyes glowed like the sun, and Clint knew he had made the right choice. Even if he had never been to see Magenta, he wouldn't have to. This was his magnet mate. "I'm going to go catch up with Em, you go and see Clint 39. Be sure to pay him nicely."
"I don't owe him a cent," said Clint. "He did this for free. Now, come on. We have to walk down the aisle first."
"Ah, tradition, tradition." Natasha sighed, turned outwards and facing the wedding attendees. She placed her hand on top of Clint's, and they escorted each-other away from the chaos and into the arms of their friends.
Emily gushed for what felt like hours over the beautiful ceremony, and the strange cups of fiery liquid, and the banner. Especially the banner. Clint 39 wasn't a great shot by any means, but the banner his wife had made for them was lovely, and it was lovely even when it fell on everyone standing below.
Clint 39 was still proud of his work. "How about it, eh?"
"How about what?" Clint 42 asked, loosening his tie and tossing it over his shoulder.
"Clint's just happy you're married." Clint 39's wife, Maria Hill 14, explained.
"Or he's avoiding bringing up the banner."
"Hm, what, Bruce Banner? He might be in another warehouse," Clint 39 said, pretending to play dumb for one unsuccessful second before apologizing. "Sorry about that. You know I'm blind as a bat."
"Oh, Batman? Sorry, I think he's in another warehouse," Clint 42 said, and slapped his bud on the back. "All is forgiven. I want you two to try Natasha's Magic in a Bottle."
"What's that?"
Clint 42 chuckled. "Trust me, you'll like it."
On their wedding night, Natasha/Tatanya and Clint 42 moved into the same box.
They shared a bed of packing peanuts together, and if they tried hard enough to imagine, it felt like a real home.
"You know, we probably won't stay like this forever." Natasha cooed, tracing the design of the brand-new tattoo on Clint's wrist. Nat had one, too, in the same place, in lieu of engagement bracelets.
"Now you tell me," Clint laughed, moving his other arm over her back. "It's okay. Nothing lasts forever here. We can only enjoy what we have while we have it."
Natasha went silent. All that could be heard was the soft scraping of her fingernail over faux leather. "Or... we could find a way out of this."
"Honey, don't tell me you're filing for a divorce already."
"That's not what I meant, you dork," she said. "Here's what I'm thinking. What if there was a way we could be boxed up together, and end up with the same human? Think about it for a second. We could pull that off. Black Widow and Hawkeye are close friends in the movies. We can get a box for two and stay there until the humans come for us to send us away."
Clint pondered this. "They didn't make us to come in pairs, Nat."
"I know. It was just... wishful thinking."
"It was a good thought."
"And a wishful one," she sighed. "Only ever to remain a wish."
Clint began stroking her sunset-colored hair. "Let's think about something else for now. What about... kids?"
"Kids?" Natasha coughed.
"I know, I know. Love is for children."
"I only said that because my character does. I was kidding."
"I know you were," he breathed. "I would love a daughter. I want her to have your hair. Bright curly orange."
"It's red."
"Yeah, red hair. And she'll be an expert bowman."
Natasha chortled. "Is that what they call people like you?"
"That's what I call myself."
"What would her name be?"
"Hmm... Katherine or something else. Something dignified."
"We could call her Kate."
"Kate isn't short for Katherine. They don't even sound alike," Clint said. "But Kate is nice. I like it."
"Or we could have her choose her own name. Like Emily and I did."
"I thought Emily didn't like her name? It didn't sound..." Clint waved a hand in the air. "Party-girl-ish enough."
"She named herself after the worker who placed her into a box. I named myself Tatanya because it sounded nice. Good Russian name," Natasha laughed under her breath. "Natasha is like my secret name. Only people who are close to me can call me that. Tatanya is for people who see me sitting on the sidelines with a bottlecap full of Fireball Whiskey at parties," Natasha paused. "Speaking of which, Emily invited us out again tomorrow. She thinks being married will change our mind about that sort of thing."
"Well, do you want to go?"
"No. Not really."
Clint leaned back and folded his hands in his lap. "Yeah, me neither. Besides, I won't be able to come home tomorrow. I've got work."
Natasha sat up. "Another wedding so soon?"
"Not a wedding." Clint replied tensely.
"A birthday, then."
"No."
"A retirement party."
"No."
"What is it, then?"
Clint got up from the bed. "I can't tell you."
"We're married now, Clint. You can tell me anything."
"I know what we are!" Clint shouted.
The fearful look on Natasha's face made him wish he could take it back. He was too late.
"I'm sorry, Nat. I'm so, so, sorry. But couples have secrets. Even in marriage."
Nat's usual fiery gaze was watery and cool, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't look Clint in the eye. "Okay, fine. You don't have to tell me. But promise you'll be loyal to me."
Clint returned to bed. He wished he could give her an answer.
On Wednesday night, he kissed Nat goodbye.
Yesterday's squabble had been long forgotten, and now Clint was leaving for work. He had told Natasha to go out with Emily, either to try out one of the parties from a different view, or take her to the Upperground hideout, for an especially different view.
"Maybe Em could give me some ideas for our honeymoon." Natasha had said.
"Honeymoon?" Clint asked.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'll think of something real nice," Natasha stroked his cheek and looked deeply into Clint's eyes, past his purple lenses and insecurities. "Be safe out there."
"How did you know my job was dangerous?"
"I know, you, Clint. You wouldn't be satisfied with minor decorating for the rest of your life," She smiled sadly. "If I don't see you tomorrow, I'm going to beat your ass."
"I know," Clint giggled softly and stepped out onto the main floor of the warehouse. It was oddly quiet tonight, and oddly dark. It must be the changing of the seasons, Clint thought. "Don't worry about me. Just worry about yourself."
"What am I going to do?"
"I don't know, catch cabin fever?" Clint loaded a few more arrows into his quiver and pulled his wrist guards tighter. He gave his wife a small salute, and she returned it with a small wave. Clint was satisfied, if not a little guilty, but there was no time to feel anything. "Preparation Nights" were not to be missed.
He showed up minutes later to the meeting, same time, same place. Everyone was waiting for him already, even if it wasn't yet midnight. Being early was better than being sorry.
"You're late, Clint." said Kamala Khan, a Ms. Marvel Legends figure. She stood where all other knelt, as was common for being second-in-command of their team.
"So's the other guy," Clint remarked, pointing at Kamala and trying to keep the tremor from his fingers. "Though I'd rather have you in charge than him."
A few of Clint's coworkers nodded nervously in agreement. Clint 39, who also led this same secret laugh, chortled quietly.
"He will be here soon. He has told me this is his greatest plan yet, so once he gets here, I except you to treat him with the upmost respect," Kamala sighed. "Please, Clint. Don't endanger yourself again. None of us here want to see you expire. There's enough violence with this job as it is."
"I understand," Clint replied. "Kamala, did you ever consider leav-"
"He's here!" A doll next to him hissed, pulling him down to kneel with the rest of them.
Kamala backed away, allowing their leader to take her standing place. He waltzed in a second after, his teeth shining as brightly as the curving gold of his helmet.
It was Loki.
"How are you tonight, Kamala?" Loki asked.
"I am well, thank you, master," she said, her eyes downcast. "And you?"
"I am excellent. And soon, we all shall be," he sounded proud. "I have recently received intel that there is a rogue doll in our midst. A blazing soul far powerful than anyone has ever seen before. She goes by Wanda Maximoff 75, and she is currently being mentored by Karl Modo 3 in the fifth district," Loki pointed his scepter towards the south end of the building. "It will be our job to seize this Wanda Maximoff and ensure she is not to hurt any other doll again," Loki focused his glare on the crowd. "You know what this means. However, Karl has hid her well, and we suspect she has taken sanctuary on the topmost racks. If Karl achieve this, the warehouse will be thrown in chaos and ruin. Kamala, assign them their duties."
"Yes, Master." Kamala bowed quickly at Loki before bustling around the group, beckoning each one of them to stand and come forward so that she could whisper in their ear.
She went through all of them, purposely leaving Clint for last. Something in her eyes made him feel uneasy. This night would not end well.
"Clint, Loki is wanting you to perform the kill on Wanda tonight. Loki told the truth- she is both a rogue and a blazing soul. But she is an innocent doll, as you might have guessed. So if you have the choice to take her life or spare it..."
"What is taking so long, Kamala?" Loki ordered, already starting off on his way with the rest of the team following behind.
Kamala pulled away from Clint's ear and raised her voice. "...you must follow your orders."
"Understood, Kamala. Thank you." Clint replied darkly. These were the worst sorts of missions, yet he knew Loki only trusted him to perform kills. No one else could be as stealthy or secretive as him.
Clint dragged his feet the whole way to their destination. They were to raid any homes found at the top of the racks, which should have been normal, but it felt different now. Being twenty feet in the air reminded him too much of Natasha. He sighed. She would never approve of his second life.
While the others knocked down doors or pounded on boxes in search of Wanda, Clint got distracted by two moving figures across the way. Was it Karl and Wanda? He drew an arrow and loaded it into his bow. Clint 39 sneaked up beside him and followed in suit.
"What are you doing?" Clint 42 whispered.
"Loki ordered me to perform the hit tonight. He saw the way Kamala was speaking to you earlier."
"So he doesn't think I'll have the balls to do it?"
Clint 39 shrugged. "Basically."
"Great." Clint 42 muttered and set down his bow.
"Better not let Loki catch you lazing around." Clint 39 said, setting his weapon down beside him.
"Hypocrite." Clint 42 chuckled.
"Oh yeah? And what's Tatanya think about you being out here?"
"She doesn't know." Clint 42 said sheepishly.
"Aw, man, you're gonna be in some hot water later."
"Don't I know it!" Clint 42 exclaimed. He removed his glasses and focused harder on the two doll-like figures on the rack beside them. They didn't look like the running-and-hiding type. More like the relaxing-and-partying type. But Clint didn't know anyone who did that except... "Clint, I don't think that's our guys."
"Hm?"
"That's not Karl and Wanda."
Clint 39 squinted at the moving shapes in the distance, searching blindly. "Who is it, then?"
"That's Emily and Natasha."
"You mean Tatanya?"
"Yeah..." Said Clint 42.
"What are they doing up here?"
Clint 42 was aware of how close the footsteps were behind them. He could hear the shouting voices of his team, and the dolls being pinned against the walls, their arms being twisted behind them as they denounced knowing anything about the rogue Wanda. He knew this was the life he led, but it was not the life he had chosen.
Not so far away were two best friends sharing secrets and a drink made of fire. He saw one woman in a red jacket, and the other with red hair, but by far the most noticeable thing about them was how much they were smiling. Clint 42 was sure Emily was cheering Natasha for her new marriage. Clint 42 was sure Natasha was being Emily to use her powers, just to see the pretty shapes and colors she could never learn to make. Clint 42 was sure that Loki would see this, and that Emily would be mistaken for the other Wanda.
"Clint. We have to go." He spoke with baited breath.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we run. Now. And we take the girls with us. Before Loki gets here."
Clint 39 fixed his friend with the most desperate stare. "You know what will happen if we do. Loki already doesn't trust you after last time. We can't leave. Not until a human finds us and takes us from this hell of a life."
"Emily and Tatanya are in danger," Clint 42 grabbed his bow and leaped into action. He glanced over at Loki, who had Kamala's throat in his hands. He threw her down and she writhed on the ground, choking. He turned away, grimacing. "I don't care what will happen to me. We need to save them."
Clint 39's mouth stood agape. He looked at Kamala, and then back to the dolls on the other shelf. He nodded. "Okay. Just tell me what I have to do."
"Distract him," Clint pointed at Loki. "I'll swing over and get them to safety."
Clint 42 raised his bow again and fired one of his wedding-banner-arrows across the way, hitting the shelf under Emily and Natasha, as not to startle them. He took the arrow in both hands and prepared it to use it as a zipline to slide over. He heard a scream from Clint 39. Clint 42 looked over his shoulder just in time to watch himself get kicked in the back. He fell flat on his face, and all the air was expelled from his chest.
"Clint Barton 1 and 2," Loki stated. "What have you found for me?"
"Actually, it's 39 and 42." Clint 39 corrected him, gasping.
Loki didn't care. He never did. Instead, he removed his shoes from their backs and followed the track of the banner over to the other rack. His eyes lit up in a dangerous way whenever he saw Emily and Natasha.
"Oh, I see," Loki chuckled. "The cat was stalking the mouse, and didn't think to tell its master."
"We were just about to tell you, I swear-" Clint 39 begged, raising his hand for anyone to grab it. Loki sneered at this gesture and stepped on it again, crushing his fingers. Clint 39 howled louder and louder in pain with each cracking sound that was made.
"Hey!" Clint 42 jumped up and took Clint 39's bow, braced to fire at Loki's head. "Stop or I'll shoot."
Loki titled his head upwards in a challenge. He slowly raised his foot and took it away from Clint 39's hand. This was somehow more terrifying than if he hadn't.
"I didn't ask to be a part of your bullshit bounty hunters," Clint 42 spat. "You promised us a better life, and instead you made us the harbingers of death. I quit!"
The dolls around him went silent. They stopped their raids and torturing and looked at Clint with fear painted clearly on their faces. They knew they were about to see something terrible.
Loki wasn't afraid of this silence. He reveled in it, for as long as there was silence, the longer he reigned. He addressed Clint 42 formally.
"Very well, number 42."
"It's Hawkeye." Clint 42 demanded, asking his master to respect him for the very first time.
Loki grinned. "Of course. Very well, Hawkeye. I shall allow you to leave the group. As long as you perform this one final task for me. For the benefit of dolls everywhere."
Hawkeye narrowed his eyes. He watched Kamala sneak up behind Loki and pull Clint 39 into her elongated arms. He was hurt, and so was she, but at least they could get better. Hawkeye didn't have to be afraid for their safety anymore. "What is it, then?"
Loki grabbed an arrow from Clint's quiver, one he knew to be the deadliest. "Kill Wanda Maximoff," he pointed his scepter at the rack where Emily and Natasha sat in blissful ignorance. "Isn't that what you were trying to do?"
Hawkeye felt a shiver pass through him, like the chill of death.
"That's not the right Wanda." He stated, voice trembling.
"You dare speak against your master's orders?" Loki roared. "You shall obey me, or you shall never see the light of day again."
"Just do it, Clint!" Kamala begged, sounding near sobs. "Please."
Hawkeye looked remorsefully at Emily. She seemed different now. More herself, more confident.  The nightly parties never amused her in the same way the Upperground could. She loved seeing the way Natasha's face lit up with every new hex she created. And Natasha... well... Natasha would never forgive him for what he was about to do. But maybe... maybe she didn't have to know it was him who did it.
Hawkeye got to his knees. He settled the bow against his face. He loaded the deadliest arrow into the rest and pulled back on the string.
"Forgive me, Emily." He whispered. The arrow slipped from his fingers.
He saw everything in slow motion. The flight of the arrow. Emily taking notice of it. The smile melting from her face. A sudden hex- bright red- interrupting the arrow's path. The arrow bouncing off the hex and hitting Natasha in the face. Natasha reeling back in shock. Natasha stumbling on the edge of the rack.
Natasha falling twenty feet down.
"No!" Hawkeye heard Emily scream, but words had lost him. He only had one thing on his mind. Clint tore down the banner and let the other side hang down. He used it as a fireman's pole, not caring how many racks he hit on his journey.
Emily was already there, using her magic to levitate herself a few inches above Natasha. She was in utter distraught.
"Tati? Tatanya? Please... please, wake up! Tati!" Emily's voice cracked and her magic disappeared. She took Natasha's head in her hands and began combing her sunset-colored hair while her fingers shook with sorrow. She noticed Hawkeye's shadow cross the ground before her. The darkness fell upon Nat's limp body.
"Clint? Clint 42, is that you? Oh my God... I have no idea what happened, someone was trying to shoot me, I think, and I blocked it with a spell, and then it hit Nat in her head, and then she tried to walk it off, but then she fell off the Upperground rack, and I don't know what happened but I can't believe it did!" Emily drew in a long breath. "I wish I could cry, I wish to God I could cry!"
Hawkeye bent down and brought Natasha's unwaking form carefully into his lap. He had only ever done this in his nightmares.
"I killed her. I killed her! Please, please, forgive me, Clint! Forgive me." Emily buried her head in her hands.
"No," he replied, but it did not feel like he was speaking. "Forgive me."
"What?"
"I need you to run, Emily. Run and run far. Go to the front of the warehouse. And pray a human picks you soon."
Emily got to her feet. "Clint, I'm sor-"
"Run, Emily. Run! Go now!" He shouted, his voice bleeding with emotion.
Emily, once playful and beautiful, looked more hurt than it had ever been. She looked once more down at her best friend's body before turning on a dime and flying away, ducking under shelves and hopping over boxes, never to look back again.
Good. If she did, she would die, too.
Hawkeye brought his face against Natasha's. She was still warm, but growing cold fast. Her lips, once a dangerous red, were ashen, and her hair, which once glowed with the promise of a sunrise, appeared cold and gray in the absence of light so far down.
This could have been someone else.
And he would find that someone else, and he would vow that no such thing would ever happen to her.
Hawkeye pressed his tattoo against Natasha's when his lips pressed against her head.
The buzzers around the warehouse sounded the start of a new day.
But on Wednesday night, he kissed Nat goodbye.
(To be continued in part three, coming in September.)

-Loki