Inheritance of ash

Back To Square One

The first three months of the new year ghosted through the days, quiet as turning pages no one remembered reading.

By the time April arrived, the stubborn winter finally began to release its grip on New York. Snow that had lingered far too long melted into cold, grey slush, and the grass began peeking through again.

No one understood why the winter had overstayed its welcome so dramatically.

Vicky did.

Wanda. With her ridiculous, dramatic love for snow. Vicky was almost certain Wanda had been dragging the season along with her fingertips like a child refusing to leave a playground.

The flooded tower had become a distant memory by now. Yelena still occasionally pulled out a photo of someone dripping like a drowned rat — Tony most often — but that was the extent of it.

The new year itself had settled into a strange sort of... boredom. With no new information on Project Wraith and no developments in the attack on Steve, the Avengers found themselves in a long-lasting lull. Only Steve and Natasha knew about Steve's foggy memory still, and they agreed to keep it between them. It felt safer that way — less fuel for panic.

For once, Vicky didn't mind the quiet.

The stillness felt like medicine.

Maybe it was the antidepressants, or maybe it was just relief — but she felt clearer than she had in a long time. Stable. Grounded. Almost... okay.

Sam and Bucky certainly weren't quiet. Out as a couple now, they bickered as loudly as ever — a theatrical, dramatic, unnecessarily competitive display of affection. They still argued like two old men trapped in a perpetual turf war, but at least now everyone knew they were in love.

Bruce, too, seemed lighter — almost hopeful. Not that he'd stopped worrying about Thor. Everyone knew he hadn't. Tony had tried convincing him Thor was a god with responsibilities and entire realms depending on him. Bruce remained unconvinced.

Truthfully, so did Vicky.

Thor disappearing without a word didn't feel right. He might be a god, but he wasn't heartless.

Should they look for him? Could they?

They had nothing to go on. And if he were in danger... well, he was Thor. She doubted there was anything in existence stronger than Thor besides maybe Hulk.

She'd never say that around Tony, though. Stark ego and all that.

Sometimes she genuinely wondered if Loki really was her biological father — because personality-wise, she was a Stark through and through.

Big ego. Sarcastic. Stubborn. Reckless.

She hadn't texted Peter once.

The last thing she received from him was the "Merry Christmas, Vicky" text — short, distant, polite. She had initiated that one. She'd told herself that meant he might reach out on New Year's Eve. First kiss anniversary. A perfect moment.

She had waited. Like an idiot.

Nothing.

Not a call, not a message, not a "hey, I'm thinking about you too." Silence as cold as the snow outside.

She hated herself for expecting something.

Actually—no.

She didn't hate herself anymore. Not fully.

Months of therapy had carved out a difficult truth: self-hatred wasn't productive. It didn't fix anything. It didn't make anything hurt less. So she tried something different.