The bonsai was writhing, dark limbs changing to a murky orange that danced as if in a tortured reggaeton. Sitting cross-legged in front of its pot was Estella, her fingers splayed across the curved belly of cool, hardened clay; her eyes shut yet still able to see. In her head, everything seemed a muted lilac - as if the depths of her surroundings were felted in wool, and the occasional flashes of red, green and yellow acids were little gems covered with layers upon layers of dust-covered cobwebs.
Wanda sat quietly beside her, absentmindedly sketching in a notebook - meal preparation, perhaps. With Estella's self-diagnosed "stomach bug", the sorceress' dishes seemed to have lost their flavour, and since she couldn't bring herself to blatantly put down Wanda's cooking, her dishes slowly lost their size as well.
Rrrrrrip.
Languidly, Estella turned her attention back to the poor tree she had been experimenting with and tilted her head. The bonsai was now thoroughly deformed, with eight trunks instead of one and branches so awry it resembled a little group of people instead of the decorative tree it once had been.
Almost like a family portrait, really.
Estella opened her eyes.
It was a habit, really - hearing Scorpio's voice, expecting him to be there - even if he wasn't. Something about his distance to the universe, which frankly she didn't understand much of except that it had a whole sciency, astronomical explanation that she didn't really bother to question twice.
But he was right - the new statue in place of the bonsai could, with some imagination, be a crude statue of a family. Stern man, strong woman, graceful young lady and the little man of the house? Check. It was exactly as she envisioned a family to be like. A little too exact, actually...
The similarities struck her almost instantly; their molten faces like a punch to her gut.
No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise - that their faces were actually those of Sam, Wanda, Shuri - she could hear their voices from the flashbacks Scorpio had so helpfully re-implanted inside her mind: cheering in the stands as she guided a ball up a field, consoling her over broken vases and stolen cookies, singing with her in those daring nights where everyone believed they could hold a tune, shouting merrily as the camera flashed before their ridiculous hats and costumes come Christmas time...
She missed them.
Without thinking, Estella reached for the glowing orange sculpture.
As soon as her hand came within a centimetre to the deformed bonsai tree, she sprang back, the pale skin on her palm rippling away to reveal a gel-like violet substance on the inside of her hand. As she watched, a tiny tube-like object ruptured with a little puff of dark smoke. She stared dumbfoundedly at the mahogany cloud rising to the top of her purple jelly flesh, frozen in time as it collected at the surface of her skin and squeezed a single drop of scarlet liquor down the side of her hand.
Then the nausea hit.
Using her free hand, Estella braced herself on a couch cushion, trying in vain to recall what healing powers Scorpio had gifted her with. Sad thoughts...sad thoughts was key, right? She recalled stitching Vision's hand almost a month ago on the quinjet, the pulsating apple, the glowing synthetic flesh.
She had felt elation, then...and then sadness?
A side effect of amnesia, perhaps.
There was Vision and his hesitance at conversation... Vision's hand burning, Vision pushing her from the quinjet, Vision staring her down from behind the glass with those horrifying golden eyes...
Estella shuddered at the last memory, looking at her hand. Nothing was happening.
The trail of red on her forearm seemed to be getting bigger, but...maybe it was just something funny with her eyes. Everything seemed so... wavy. Like steam in the sunlight. Was she steaming? She couldn't tell.
Do I normally have four arms? ...why is the world spinning?
She squeezed her eyes shut, and slumped forward onto the couch seat.
********
Stay with me.
Estella could feel the prodding at her subconsciousness, urging her to open her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered open for a second to catch a wave of burgundy hair across the face, and quickly shut them again.
She'd rather keep her eyes closed, thank you very much.
And Scorpio wasn't physically there, anyways. She didn't have to listen to him.
Ouch. Now that's just petulant.
Estella ignored him.
You know how hard it is to keep you in Limbo? Scorpio's voice continued, knowing full well that Estella could hear him no matter how hard she pretended otherwise. I've got to piece together every ounce of your being with dust, and you lose more than you gain. It's like cleaning up after a malfunctioning vacuum cleaner. Dreadful.
Estella opened her eyes, successfully lowering the volume of Scorpio's jargon for a moment. Wanda was binding a bandage around her hand, and once she saw that Estella was conscious again, the sorceress offered a smile. Estella tried to return it.
Technically, it would be a lot easier to just throw you in the mountains, somewhere, Scorpio was saying. A Kronan would be a lot easier to handle. Quality dust is seriously so difficult to come by, and your being demands droves of it every day, even without you burning your hand on a potted plant.
Now he wasn't making any sense at all.
Why am I made of dust?
You can become flesh and bone, if you want to.
Then... Why aren't I?
Because you haven't chosen your home yet.
Estella furrowed her brows at the sky through the glass top of the solarium. Wasn't she already home?
That depends on where home is.
I know where home is, Estella thought, thinking the question a little ridiculous. She spent her whole time on this 'universe', as Scorpio dubbed it, looking for one. It was obvious, wasn't it?
Is it in the Indlu Emthini Maisoarbe, Wakanda; with Wanda, Sam, Captain Rogers and his vigilante Avengers?
That's-
She meant to snark back with a comment about how he preferred her to be a hobo on a train, because where else could she go?, but Scorpio barreled on, not listening to her thoughts for once.
Or is it 5976 Ricksford Drive, Canada; with Mikael, Catherine, and the rest of your Robins family?
It was as if something clicked inside her, finally, and Estella was overwhelmed with feelings of both confusion and agony. Wanda had risen from the couch, busying herself with dinner prep as soon as she deemed Estella alright on her own - even though 'okay' was far from what Estella was feeling right now.
Her mind was a swarm of crazy thoughts - a bunch of politicians arguing about everything and nothing at all, it seemed. Reaching above the clamour of her brain noise, she struggled to send a coherent thought back to Scorpio.
I- I could go back?
He was quiet for a second, his silence like seashells clamped to her ears. The universe stopped moving for a minute; sound stolen from her, sight unable to change, feel as if she was at the top of a ladder, about to jump down. Then it was spinning too fast, like a watch out of control, as he uttered a single reply.
Yes.
It was as if she had been in a tunnel, jogging through on her way out - and a creature had suddenly charged past her, blasting a hole in the wall, scaring her senseless with this new possibility. The politicians went crazy. Estella's voice felt stuck, both mentally and physically. This...not...possible......right?
In fourteen days, the stars will align, and I will be close enough to deliver or release your body, as you so choose. Give me your answer then.
Wait-
Scorpio's presence vanished, leaving behind a rather severe case of tinnitus in Estella's ear.
What do I do now?
Wanda was looking back at her now, her face concerned. Whether or not she had heard Estella's whole conversation with Scorpio wasn't evident, but certainly, Estella's half-teary, emotionally confused face was enough to catch the eye of any of the Avengers; mind reader or not.
I have to tell them the truth, Estella realized. That's why Scorpio's given me time.
Then I have to say goodbye.
*******
Ding.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the vibrant bruising of a weary sunset retiring over the African plains. Estella stepped out onto a glossy rink of salmon pink and blood orange, trying to quiet the shuffling of her shoes on the floorboard to preserve the peaceful silence.
It was one of those rare early evenings where the solarium was empty - well, nearly empty. All the vigilante Avengers had been invited for dinner by the River Tribe, and everyone had eagerly accepted, save for those with work to do, or as in Estella's case, a need to placate themselves in their existential crisis.
Estella started the oven.
Behind her, she could hear the rustling of papers and scritch-scratching of a pencil. The dying sunlight betrayed his shadow to the floor - a neat trick Nat had taught her - and without turning around, she asked, "Steve, do you want lasagna?"
The captain made an affirmative noise, probably still consumed in the work that occupied him, but Estella felt the wicked sense of pride ease down her nerves as she scuttled into the pantry, pulling out the foil-topped tray Wanda had prepared for them. Sticking it in the oven, she twisted a tomato timer as Steve rose from his chair, clinking porcelain around out of her peripheral vision.
The mundane work was almost enough to take her mind off why she had declined the River Tribe dinner in the first place.
Almost.
"Hey, Estella?"
Steve's voice brought her back to reality, and she froze briefly, thinking that he too had mind-reading powers and could see straight through her pretense of a stomach bug when a large hand extended into her periphery with a steaming mug of dark liquid. "Hot chocolate?"
Hot chocolate. She had hot chocolate before, when she was nine. Her mother fixed all three kids one, on a late winter night where her father's plane was coming in late but each Robin was too stubborn to go to sleep without seeing him first. Estella had assisted with the preparation of the chocolate syrup, and 'accidentally' poured twice the recommended amount into each cup. Mikael, who carried a personal vendetta against hot things, helped by adding a spoonful of mint chocolate-chip ice cream into each mug - save their mother's, of course. She actually liked the heat. Estella and her siblings could never figure out why.
Estella took the mug, murmuring a polite "thanks". She placed it on the bar counter connected to the kitchen, then heaved herself onto the seat of the chair, reuniting with the porcelain cup. The drink smelled spicy, not cold minty sugar and Nesquik syrup, but strangely sweet and dark.
"Aztec chilli-chocolate," Steve explained, barely having to tiptoe to slide into the barstool beside her. "When you're running from the government, prejudices just have to slip away. You'll find the beauty in new things a whole lot easier." He chuckled lowly. "I learned that about seventy years too late."
Estella nodded, not knowing what else to say and instead taking a tentative sip of the drink. As soon as it touched her skin she winced, eyes watering. Scorpio would probably reprimand her for burning her dust-skin off. Shaking the thought from her head, Estella took to blowing at the dark surface of the chilli-chocolate instead.
The ex-soldier took a sip from his drink, miraculously unflinching at the scalding liquid on his tongue, before glancing at Estella. "Dinner parties aren't your thing?"
"No," Estella admitted, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second before staring back at the countertop. "I just wanted to...ground myself, for a day."
"Don't get too caught up in the moment," Steve murmured, his eyes going distant. "Good plan."
Estella nodded, inhaling the colourful accents from her mug as if she could gain the courage to speak with the power of chocolate. There was no telling if he would react as Alycs did. That horror, leaving so abruptly, going out of his way to avoid me... She opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed. I would have to tell the team either way.
"I...wanted to ask your opinion on something," Estella finally got out, her voice shaking like an engine on a cold morning.
If the captain noticed, he didn't comment. Instead, Steve blew off the steam from his drink, then turned to Estella, grey-blue eyes fixing on hers. "I'm all ears."
How do I put this...
"Y-you had a family before the Avengers, right?" Her voice sounded crippled. She swallowed, and forced down a sip of burning chocolate to clear her throat.
The captain nodded.
"If..." Estella twisted her hands, trying to calm her erratic breathing. 'You want advice, best ask the captain,' Wanda had said. It wasn't as if Estella was going to let loose all her secrets on him - she learned her lesson from Alycs. Even Wanda didn't know everything just yet.
"If you could go back to them... would you?"
Steve was quiet for a moment. He looked away, letting the silence drag on between them enough that Estella was about to apologize and quickly slip from the solarium in embarrassment when he finally spoke.
"It's complicated."
Right, okay, I'll just be going now...
"I don't usually let myself think about what could happen in the past," Steve elaborated, pulling Estella's attention back up to him. "There always all these 'what ifs' that I know will never be able to happen, so I try to move on."
He took a sip of his chilli-chocolate, the sound somewhat akin to a sigh. "But if it could be done...if I really could go back to my family, in the past, before Captain America and the Avengers... I would. Family comes first, y'know?"
Estella nodded, drinking in his words with the slant of fading sunlight and spice of chilli-chocolate soaking into her being, and leaned back, the tick-ticking of the tomato-timer like a distant reminder of her limited time left on the planet, the universe.
Family comes first.