warnings: just a lot of sad stuff:(
age: 16
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Y/N's POV
"Billy, Tommy, stop mucking about. Mom will be downstairs any minute and the last thing she needs today is you two being difficult," I scold my younger brothers. Having two eleven year olds in the house while trying to ensure your mom has a stress-free day isn't an easy task.
The tenth of February. My mom's birthday.
That's not the only person whose birthday it is, though. It's also my Uncle Pietro's.
I never got to meet him, mom found out she was pregnant just after the battle of Sokovia, courtesy of one of the Hydra guards impregnating her. Involuntarily, might I add.
Every year, she spends her birthday trying her hardest to prove to everyone she's completely fine. Is it convincing? No. We've been trying to coax her into allowing herself to feel for years on end, but it's never worked.
"Dad," Tommy whines, "Y/N's being bossy again."
I scoff and roll my eyes at his attempt to get me in trouble, I know Vision's on my side for this.
"I know she's a bit bossy, but-" Vision starts, but I quickly cut him off.
"Hey! I am not bossy. And even if I am, it's only because I'm trying to ensure my mother has a nice birthday. Not my fault I'm her favorite child."
"You are so not the favorite," Billy retaliates, putting his hands on his hips.
"Y/N, you know we don't have favorites," Vision tries telling me, but I don't care. I know I'm mom's favorite, I'm her only daughter.
Only moments later, we all shut up as we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. We quickly grab the party poppers just as mom appears in the kitchen.
"Happy birthday!" we all exclaim in unison, popping the party poppers so that confetti explodes everywhere.
"Thank you, loves," mom says kindly, trying her best to keep the faltering smile.
"Happy birthday, darling," Viz tells her, bringing her in for a kiss before she gives all three of us kids a hug, me being last.
The good thing about me being last is that I get the longest hug. The downside to that, however, is that when we pull away and I get a good look at her, I see how pink her cheeks have gotten from crying. Nothing gets past me.
"You're allowed to be sad," I whisper to her while the others are distracted talking about breakfast. We always do breakfast before presents, because we all get cranky without food.
"I'm fine," she tries to convince me, I give her that look. "I am fine, Y/N. I'm telling you."
Not being convinced in the slightest, I grab ahold of one of her hands and squeeze it lightly so she knows I'm here.
It isn't long before Vision starts talking again. "What do you say to silver dollar
pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and black coffee?" he asks mom, I watch as she tenses up.
"I'm not hungry, thanks."
Bullshit. I know she's hungry, how could she not be? She barely had any dinner last night. That was due to her 'pre-birthday blues' as I like to call it.
"You have to eat something," I tell her sternly. "I'll make you some toast, just eat something. You can be sad but you can't be sad and hungry."
"... Fine," she hesitantly agrees before walking over to the dining table and sitting down on the opposite side of the twins who are waiting impatiently for their food.
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Once breakfast was done and down, everyone moved to the couch and swarmed around mom so she could open her presents.
So far, she's received several jewelry pieces from Vision along with a few new perfumes. From Billy and Tommy, a couple of crystals and such from the shop in town. Mom's been meaning to buy some but hasn't found the time, so she loved those.
And now comes my gift, I hope she likes it as much as she's liked everything else.
"Oh, Y/N," she gasps, "This is beautiful." Right now, she's holding a sketchbook I started a while back. Months ago, actually. I've been planning this for a long time.
In each page of the sketchbook (which is one hundred pages long) there's a drawing of something important to mom. Whether that's one of us family members, drawings of the Avengers, her favorite flowers or favorite things, and my personal favorite - the picture I drew of her and Pietro on the final page. I only had photos of him to reference from, but I'd say I did a pretty good job.
"Yes, this is truly lovely," Vision smiles, squeezing his wife's shoulder. At this point, we can all see her beginning to cry.
"Excuse me for a minute," she asks of us, standing up suddenly and sprinting up the stairs with the sketchbook still in hand.
"Wow. That was unexpected," I say in shock, not thinking she would let herself break.
I find it remarkable that she's even managed to keep it together for this long. I'm glad she's getting it out, though.
"Is mom okay?" Billy asks worriedly, looking up at me. Tommy has the same look on his face. They're so sweet sometimes.
"She will be," I tell him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "She'll be fine. But on that note, I'm gonna go check on her. You guys clean up breakfast and the wrapping paper and all that and hopefully I'll be bringing mom back down shortly."
Ignoring their protests to cleaning up, I hurriedly make my way upstairs and to mom and Vision's room.
It's no surprise when I hear muffled sobs coming from inside. But that's what causes me to push open the door.
"Mom?" I say to make my presence known. She jumps at the sudden company and quickly wipes the tears away. "Stop that, you don't need to do that," I frown and walk over to her bed, getting in on the other side.
Of course her getting rid of the tears have done nothing. Her under-eyes are still swollen and her pillow has a darker patch from where said tears have landed.
"You know, uncle P wouldn't want you to be spending your day in bed crying. He would want you to celebrate life. Don't you think?"
Not being able to say anything else, mom merely nods her head as she fights back another sob.
"I'm gonna give you two options. You can either come downstairs now and we can start your fun day in ten minutes and go anywhere you like, or you can have twenty minutes of crying time and we can go later. But either way, you aren't staying in the house."
Clearly, all her years of making me choose between two options to solve problems has paid off. She taught me well.
Mom lets out a heavy sigh, bringing the blanket further over her.
"I just..." she starts, stopping to take a breath. "I just need to cry. So I guess I'll take option number two." She can't even get to the end of her sentence without swallowing a strangled sob.
"Option number two it is. Come on, you only have limited time here and I'm not letting you cry alone." With that, I shuffle closer and hold onto her as she cries.
They're not just small, quiet cries. No. They're heart-wrenching, loud, violent ones. She's letting it all out, and she should.
What a day this is going to be.
-
After effectively getting mom ready for the day and drying her eyes, she chose to spend our day at the shopping center because let's be real, what can't shopping fix?
We bought a lot. It was mainly me and mom draining out Vision's bank account. He lent us his credit card and well, let's just say we took full advantage.
I'm pleased that I've noticed a significant change in mom's mood, she's definitely perked up and it warms my heart.
We weren't sure if she'd be able to handle a big surprise on her birthday since she's so fragile today, but that didn't stop us from putting together a little something for when we get home.
It's currently seven o'clock. We got dinner when we were out shopping so we've been there for a while.
There's just one last hurdle to get out the way. I think mom will appreciate it millions.
"Oh, that looks like Natasha's car," mom comments as we pull into our drive and points across the road.
A goddam assassin can't hide her car properly, yet has no trouble sneaking up on people without a sound.
"Maybe she's just... here to say hello?" I lie since no one else is making an effort to come up with an excuse, lazy so-and-so's.
When we've parked up and Vision has gotten all the shopping bags out the trunk, I make sure to walk ahead of the others and do a special knock at the door to warn anyone who may, or may not, be inside our house right now that the birthday girl is coming.
As my family catch up, I slowly start pushing the door open.
Mom's face suddenly turns alarmed as she catches onto one tiny detail. "Did we leave the house unlocked or-"
"SURPRISE!" around sixty people all yell, along with a load of cheering afterwards.
At least they were all able to park their cars somewhere further away.
For the final surprise of the day, me and Vision organized a party for mom. It's just close friends and of course all the Avengers, a few SHIELD agents, too. Maria dealt with that part, Nat probably convinced her in a way she appreciated.
It only takes fifteen minutes for the party to start getting wild. Clearly there was some drinking going on before we even got here, and now we have Sam and Bucky jumping off our roof and into the pool as a result.
At least it's entertaining.
Mom seems to be having a good time, she's laughing along with a few others, but she isn't drinking nor is she letting herself go crazy. She's probably just a bit tired.
"Hey, kid!" Natasha calls me over from where she standing near the barbecue with Maria's arm hanging over her shoulder. They're both completely and utterly hammered.
"Hi, you two," I greet them and walk up to where they are. "You guys are gonna hate your hangover tomorrow."
"Excuse me?" Maria pretends to be offended, "We are not drunk."
"Mhm. Tell that to your breath, babe," Nat retaliates to which Maria only blows air directly on her girlfriend's face.
The children they are, start blowing on each other's faces pettily. So much that I think they've forgotten I'm here so I simply walk away.
Another hour or so passes before it's time for cake. Everyone is gathered around excitedly for the eight tier cake that Tony had specially done and they all watch mom cut the first slice after a very off-key singing of 'happy birthday'.
All the guests go back to discussion whilst they're waiting for their slice. It's crowded, but it doesn't stop me from noticing my mom sneaking away and walking out onto the patio.
Growing suspicious, I too slip away so I can check on her. Perhaps she just got a bit overwhelmed with the day, we've done a lot.
"Hey," I smile when I see her sitting on a chair at the outside dining table. She's staring at the ground, paying no attention to the two slices of cake in front of her. Why does she have two?
"I know that look you're giving me," she speaks up, still looking away.
I take a seat on the chair next to her and place a hand on hers. Physical touch can help her with her feelings sometimes.
"I have two because..." she starts, then pauses. "One's for Pietro."
Jeez, mom. Way to break my heart!
"He always told me that the oldest eats first," she further explains, I'm left confused.
"But, you guys were the same age."
She lets out a half-hearted chuckle, I can't tell if it's one that signifies she's about to cry or not. "He was twelve minutes older, baby. I know it sound stupid but it's what gets me through my birthdays."
"If it's what helps you then it definitely is not stupid. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time, I wish there was something I could do to make your day better."
I almost feel like this is my fault. Like maybe I didn't make her day special enough.
"Y/N, absolutely not. Don't blame yourself. If you wanna blame someone, you can blame that stupid ass robot that killed him. But you, my dear, have made this such an incredible day. If you hadn't have forced me to get out of bed and to get out of the house then my day would've been miserable. I'm so grateful for you, kiddo."
Before I can say anything else, I'm being pulled into a bone-crushing hug.
I wish I got to meet my uncle Pietro, but at least I have his sister.
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happy birthday, my darling wanda <3 (posting this half an hour early because i'm way too tired to post this at midnight)
also can we talk about how much lizzie looks like mary-kate and ashley in this photo-