The Twins and Lila Growing Adventures

Nat cried herself to sleep, resting her head on Loki's lap as she held his hand for dear life, they were together in this, they would find a solution together.

Lila's first option was going with Strange, but it was too obvious, but she remembered that time she got into her mom's computer with Vera, when they were little, and read about this witch who became nuts and controlled a whole town, she would begin there, to see if there is something she could learn about that kind of magic.

Months—it took months to prepare for this one day. Every hour spent digging and searching, every tear shed, every drop of blood spilled was for this trial. It had to be worth it. Every detail had been meticulously planned, every "i" dotted and every "t" crossed. Today, he would take everything from the man who had come into his sister’s life, ruined his family, shattered his dreams, and left him crippled. He wheeled himself into the courtroom, his hands steady on the rims of his chair. As he took his place next to the prosecutor, he immediately spotted his sister. She was sitting beside the man who had destroyed his life, the same man who had hurt her and was now manipulating her. She didn’t know, she couldn’t see the truth. She smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up, oblivious to the monster at her side. He had to glance away to maintain his resolve. His eyes fell on the judge, stern and impartial, and then on the defendant, smug and confident. The outcome of the trial didn’t matter to him as much as the opportunity to put Jolon on the witness stand. This was about setting all the pieces into place to get revenge on the man who hurt him.
For now all he could do was wait until his sister was call to the stand, that is when his plan began, unfortunately this was a lawsuit on the lack of safety regulations so he knew it will be some time until then.

Everyone was nervous, they have been behind this trial for more than a year now, and finally, it was taking them somewhere, no, they hadn't found the guilty, but at least they had more clues about it, but this lawsuit was against the company who organized the tournament because they didn't have the required safety measures, at least now they were preventing this to happen again.
That day, they asked Vera to declare, everyone knew she wasn't that comfortable doing that, but she agreed to help her brother, at the end of the day, this was for him.

From what Vera had been told by her family, she was simply the leading expert on seidr. Her role was to explain the intricate science and magic behind Erik's equipment and functionality. Everyone believed Jolon's reason for being present was his knowledge of the paperwork and agreements necessary for collaborating with the organization. This was the pretty white lie Erik had told everyone. Now, it was finally time to reveal the truth. 

Weeks ago, Erik had hacked and embedded his way into the courtroom technology. Months ago, he discovered a surviving recording of Jolon experimenting on his sister. The recording was now playing for the world to see. There was screaming in the background, his sister a literal hot mess, burning everything she touched. Several people surrounding her lay dead, killed by the molten metal she had turned into burning goo. The main focus was on Jolon, who had lowered his mask to speak to someone on the phone in a calm manner. What he said couldn't be heard, but it didn't matter. The video was abruptly stopped by Erik's grandfather, who destroyed the screen that it was playing on.

Vera sat in the witness booth, trying to hide her sobbing expression. Ignoring his crying sister, Erik went on the attack against Jolon. "And what's to say he didn't switch out my equipment—" 

"I did," Jolon cut him off. Erik fell silent, not having planned for Jolon to confess. The defense attorney attempted to claim hearsay, but the judge silenced him. 

Jolon continued. "And I do regret it. What I did was a foolish act. Why I did it, I won't say," not to them, "but I do apologize for hurting you and your family, it was never my intentions too. Vera, I do sincerely regret hurting you all those years ago." He turned to face Vera, who met his eyes before he looked back at Erik. "I've been alive since the dawn of time. I took Vera to try and create the formula for magic. I nearly succeeded, but unfortunately, I got a few things wrong. In the end, I did unreversible harmed, and I apologize for that. I did not believe I would ever see your sister again but she show up into my life asking for assistance in running a company on a project I been working on since the time of dawn. She was like the sun-"

His head twisted back suddenly, snapping his neck, and he fell dead. The act was sudden and swift. The only one who wasn't in shock was Celia. A nausea feeling over came Erik who kneel over to empty his stomach out. The court room was a mess of chaos with the trial being dismissed.

"Celia, don't..." Bucky saw the expression in his wife's eyes, and as soon as Jolon confessed, Celia had her murderous look, he grabbed her from her forearms, completely forgetting the fact she didn't need her arms to kill a man. With her daughter in shock, he saw her hair turning brighter so he ran towards her, "Vera, sweetie, let's get you out of here," he tried to pick her up but she was getting too warm. Thankfully Nat had just come back from taking Erik outside and helped Bucky, "You're safe baby, you're with me," Bucky tried to comfort her, he knew Erik could control his emotions way better than Vera, at least at this very moment. Nat and Loki were dealing with the police, thankfully New Asgard law saw that act as a defense action so that Celia wouldn't be charged with homicide. A few minutes later the family was reunited outside, it seemed that the situation was a bit more controlled.

Shoving her father away, Vera's breath came in frantic, uneven gasps. "No, I'm not!" she choked out, staring down at her trembling hands she watch with rising horror as they shifted to a soft dandelion yellow. She was going to burn this place to the ground, and the only person besides her brother who could ever calm her down was now gone. Jolon was dead. A sob caught in her throat as the reality of the situation sank in. Jolon, her best friend, mentor, and the one who had inflicted so much pain on her and her family, was dead. The agony of this twisted truth tore through her. Jolon was gone, and he had taken a part of her with him.

Her eyes locked onto Erik, and something snapped inside her—a flash of anger that burned away her grief and stifled her fear. Before she could think, her body moved on its own. She crossed the space between them in a blur, her fist connecting with his face in a sickening thud. Erik’s head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground, the shock still etched in his features.

Her brother’s ragged breathing filled the air, his gaze frozen on her, wide-eyed and trembling. She took a step toward him, muscles tense, ready to strike again. But then, a sudden, unyielding force stopped her cold. Her grandfather’s hand clamped onto her shoulder, his grip as unmovable as steel. She jerked against it, muscles straining as she fought to break free, her breaths quick and shallow. Her pulse thundered in her ears, the heat of rage still pulsing through her. Yet his grip only tightened, the silent command in his firm hold clear—this had to end.

With a furious cry, she wrenched herself free from her grandfather's grip, her body trembling with rage. Tears streamed down her face as she rounded on her brother, her voice raw and cracked. "I hate you!" she screamed, her hands shaking violently as she pointed at him. "How dare you—how fucking dare you show the world the worst moments of my life!" Each word dripped with venom, her pain morphing into an uncontrollable storm. "That was my secret to reveal, not yours!" Her chest heaved as the words spilled out, the fury behind them making her entire body quiver. "You're a monster—you killed my best friend—"

Erik, still on the ground, his face bruised and eyes unfocused, slowly pulled himself up with his grandfather assistance. His anger flared to life despite the disorientation, his voice rising in defense. "He hurt you! He hurt me! He ruined my life—"

"I don't care!" she shrieked, her voice splintering with the force of her emotion. Her tears flowed freely now, hot and relentless, as she glared at him with a mixture of anguish and fury. "That wasn't your decision to make!" The last words tore from her, laden with the weight of her betrayal, leaving her breathless and shaking. Vera’s chest heaved, her breaths sharp and ragged as she glared at her grandfather, who stood calmly by Erik’s side. His voice cut through the tension, gentle yet firm. “Vera, I know you're upset—"
“No! Shut the fuck up!” She roar, her voice cracking under the weight of her pain. Her eyes, burning with unshed tears, bore into him with a ferocity that startled even her. The air around them seemed to tremble as she unleashed her fury.

“You don't get to talk!” She snarled, her voice a low growl of betrayal. “None of this would’ve happened if you’d done your fucking job as a father! Mom wouldn’t be the wreck she is! She wouldn't be fucking disaster who’s always the victim—who everyone treats like she’s made of glass! If it wasn't because of you!” Her words were venomous, dripping with a bitterness that had festered for far too long. “Well, maybe if she breaks, she deserves it!”
The silence that followed was suffocating, the weight of her words pressing down on everyone in the room. The lines on her grandfather face deepened, a tremor passing through his hands as he clenched them into fists at his sides. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like a man who had just been struck, trying to steady himself against the weight of her words. but Vera wasn’t done. Her finger shot out, trembling, as she pointed at him. "You're so obsessed with making things right with me that you never bothered to fix what you broke with your own daughters! Lila didn’t leave on her own—she ran because of you! You and Natalia," she spat out as if her grandmother name was cursed, she whipping around to face her grandmother and continue her voice laced with venom. “You’re a fucking coward! You’ve never had the spine to stand up to anyone, let alone your family. You say you’re there for us, but it’s always Lila and Celia you care about. Not us! You’re nothing but a liar and a coward! You're all the worst aspect of this whole family!”

Her words sliced through the air, leaving her grandmother visibly shaken. The hurt in her eyes should have given Vera pause, but the storm inside her was too fierce to be calmed. She could feel the tremor in her hands as she finally turned to her father. “And you,” she began, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions, “you never even tried to understand me. You wanted me to be something I could never be. You never saw me or Erik as we were! You were too busy worrying over the past to see us! Do you know why I trusted Jolon? He is the only person besides grandfather who never asked me to change, who loved me exactly as I was. I never had to prove anything to him! He believed in me! A stranger believed in me more than my own father did! He saw me as I was! He loved me the way I was! I was his ray of sunshine.”

A sob tore through her, her body shuddering with the effort to hold herself together. She spun toward the door, desperate to escape, but stopped short when she saw her mother standing there. The sorrow and confusion etched on her face were almost too much to bear. Vera’s heart twisted painfully in her chest.
“And you,” she said, her voice breaking, “you killed him.” The statement hung in the air, heavy and cold. “You don’t even care how I feel because, to you, he was just a bad guy. He hurt Erik. He hurt me. He deserved to die. Maybe he did but that wasn't up to you. That was up to us, his victims! You took that choice from me." That what hurt most. Everyone ignoring her and her feelings. "And I don't understand why you did what you did. One minute you hate us, your own family, and run away only to return and tell us you adore us. I try to understand but you're so closed off. You're so secretive that I don't even know why you are the way that you are. I don't even know why you're here. Why you even care if we're hurt or who is right or wrong. And now I don't even care how you feel about us anymore."

She didn’t wait for a response. With a look of pure disdain, she shrugged off her jacket—the one with her and her brother’s symbol—and let it fall to the ground with a hollow thud. “Fuck all of you,” she spat, the words a bitter, final condemnation.

Without another word, she stormed out of the courthouse. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the oppressive silence as she raced to her car. The moment she slammed the door shut, the dam broke. Hot tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she sped away into the night, leaving behind the shattered remnants of her family.

After that terrible scene, the family tried their best to keep functioning. Nat and Loki were trying to find Lila, but the girl was nowhere to be found, after all, her mom was one of the greatest spies in the world, and her father the most powerful wizard in the universe, she learned a thing or two from them.

The same night she ran away from home, she teleported directly to West View, the town where Wanda Maximoff caused chaos many years ago, it was a forgotten town now, so peaceful that neither SWORD nor even lesser authorities were interested in it. There she found her, the infamous Agatha Harkness, the dark witch, with a simple spell, she brought back her memories, and after that, Agatha swore to teach her to use her powers, in exchange for finding a way to unlock hers. Lila thought it was a fair request, so she became her disciple.

Erik gave her sister a few days to calm down, and after that he went to find her, he was feeling guilty, he acted so selfish, he should know better, and he will apologize, and maybe that way Vera would forgive him, welcome him back to her life, he knew she would need him, just like he needed her.

Agatha leaned back in her rocking chair, her eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and amusement as she eyes the young girl before her. There was no hint of fear or hesitation in the girl’s stance. Instead, she held herself with a quiet confidence, her chin slightly raised, eyes sharp and focused. Agatha could sense the power simmering beneath the surface—a raw, untapped potential that called to her like a moth to a flame. “Well, well,” Agatha drawled, her voice a velvet purr. “Aren’t you a bold one? Most who come seeking me are trembling in their boots, but you… you’re different." Then, with a sudden, decisive movement, she stood and extended her hand. “You’ve intrigued me. Let’s see what you’re truly made of.” The girl took Agatha’s hand, and the shadows of the hous creeped around them swirled with renewed energy. Agatha pulled her closer, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “First lesson, dear: trust no one. Not even your teacher.” She gave the girl a wicked smile, her grip tightening ever so slightly. “Especially not your teacher.”


In just a matter of days, Vera's life had begun to unravel completely. The moment the truth about Jolon surfaced, it was as if the world had been waiting to expose every dark secret he had carefully hidden during his lifetime. Jolon specialty was in humanoid experimentation, and Vera, tragically, had become his final subject. The media pounced on the story, endlessly replaying clips of her heated confrontation with her family, dissecting her every word and action. The girl who had once reshaped the world with her brilliance was now being systematically dismantled, piece by piece. First, her reputation had been shattered, her image tarnished beyond repair. Now, her company—the empire her grandfather and Jolon had built—was slipping from her grasp. The board of directors, once staunch supporters, had voted to sever ties with her, stripping her of any influence she had left. Everything she had worked for was crumbling, leaving her with nothing but the brilliance of her own mind. Vera sat slumped at her meticulously cleared desk, her eyes fixated on a photograph. It was a snapshot of happier times—she, Jolon, and her grandfather, all beaming with pride as she held up her Nobel Prize in chemistry. The image was a stark contrast to her current reality. Her gaze drifted to the security camera screen on her left, where she saw her brother entering the room.
"Here to ruin my life even more?" she muttered, her voice dripping with bitterness as her brother approached.​​​

Sweet, little, innocent Lila wasn't there anymore, she left her at home with her parents, in that perfect little house. This Lila gave her teacher a grin just as wicked as hers, "Believe me, I'm counting on it," she whispered back. Underneath her excitement for knowledge and freedom, was her guilt for leaving home like that, but she couldn't allow herself to think about it, for the first time in her life, she made a decision for herself.

"Hi," he said softly, as he placed his cane over the table, "I came to try to fix my mistake, I recognize that I made a mistake, I'm sorry, I should have talked to you about it, but I didn't have idea he was the responsible of all of our-" trauma, but how could he say that without saying that?

“First,” Agatha began, her tone shifting to a more instructional cadence, “let’s cover the fundamentals of witchcraft. Magic isn’t just about waving wands or reciting incantations. It’s about harnessing intent and channeling the energies around you. The darker arts draw their power from Hell or similar shadowy realms. Some learn to channel this energy, imbuing it into objects or projecting it outward.”

She gestured toward a collection of mystical items laid out before them: enchanted candles, ancient scrolls, and a variety of herbs and potions. “These tools are ones I’ve crafted to assist me. Sometimes, you won’t have the luxury of time to cast spells or set traps manually. These objects allow you to perform such tasks more efficiently.”

All the anger and rage surged back with a vengeance as she glared at her brother, a growl escaping her lips. "You didn’t know? Yes, you did! You used my trauma—my pain, not yours—to get your revenge! You knew exactly what he did, and you wouldn’t have exposed it otherwise!" Vera’s voice trembled with fury, but her mind was sharp. It was all clear now; his plan had been obvious the moment he laid all his cards on the table. "You’re a selfish asshole!" She spat, her eyes burning with hurt and betrayal. "You have no idea how much you’ve hurt me! And the worst part is," she continued, her voice cracking, "my best friend is dead, and he ruined my life too. You both did. Now I have no one left I can trust."

"Do I need them?" Lila asked and Agatha shook her head, "You won't, but first, you have to learn to channel your energy so it won't overflow," she handed her the crystals that were over the table, "Learning to control your power is even more difficult than the spells, now I need you to hold this and try to put your energy inside," Lila took the crystals and looked at her confused, "How do I know that I'm doing it correctly?" she asked, "You'll feel it," Agatha smirked.

"You have me!" He said a bit louder, yet not screaming, he never screams, "I'm sorry! I truly am! I didn't want this to happen! I didn't want to hurt you!"He said as tears were forming in his eyes, "Please believe me,try to understand..." he pleaded.

As Lila concentrated, the crystals in her hands began to emit a faint glow, the energy she forced through them pulsating with a subtle rhythm. It only took her a few minutes to grasp the dark, swirling energy within her, pushing it through and into the amethyst shard. The shard flared to life, casting a rich violet light that bathed the room in a shifting hue, gradually softening into a delicate lilac that danced across the walls. Agatha watched, her eyes narrowing in contemplation. "You must come from a lineage of powerful sorcerers," she murmured, her voice tinged with both admiration and intrigue. "I can feel it—the raw, untamed magic coursing through you. It's wild but loyal, like a fierce feline ready to defend its master. Not many sorcerers from Midgard can wield seidr so naturally, but you…" She trailed off, a sly smile curving her lips. "You’re different."


Vera met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She fought to hold them back, swallowing the lump in her throat as she leaned in closer, her voice a sharp, venomous whisper. "Liar," she spat, jabbing her finger hard against his chest. "You wanted to hurt him no matter the cost. You didn’t care how much it would tear me apart."

She just smirked, she knew that expression, she had seen it a few times, "Thanks," she said as she placed the crystal back in its place, "I guess we will start tomorrow," she could pretend to be the innocent girl for a while longer.

She was right, he was a monster, a monster who didn't care about her pain, he was not much better than Jolon, but at least he did try to protect her, Erik just... used her, "I'm sorry..." he whispered again and took his cane and walked out as fast as he could, his sight was blurry because of his tears, he hurt her, he had hurt her more than anyone before, and he couldn't live with that. He will figure out how to make things right, he had to.

Despite what everyone believed about Vera not being a family person, she knew her family better than anyone, and that was precisely why she had to deceive them—because they would never leave her alone. A pang of guilt tugged at her, but she pushed it aside, knowing that this was the only way. After meticulously checking everything for the fifth time, she struck the match, watching as the first spark ignited. The flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow that reflected the determination in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on the worn photograph of her and her brother. As the image curled and blackened, memories turning to ash, she tossed the burning photo onto the pile of meticulously drawn blueprints scattered across her desk. The fire spread quickly, consuming her plans, her past, and everything she was leaving behind. Grabbing the new backpack she had carefully packed with only the essentials—items her family would never notice were missing—she took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come. Unfurling the scroll Jolon had given her after his passing, the ancient parchment whispering secrets in a language only she understood, Vera softly whispered the spell, the words resonating deep within her. In an instant, the world around her shimmered and distorted, and she vanished from the realm, leaving nothing but smoke and embers in her wake.


Having return to Vera home the small town was in chaos, in the distance there was smoke, it took him all of five seconds to know where it was coming from. For the first time since the day of his accident he ran, he didn't care how much his lower back screamed in protest, he will not let anything happen to Vera. It took him only a few minutes to reach her home that was now engulfed in flames. Not thinking, he push his way past everyone, ignoring everyone cries warnings and pleas to stay back but he didn't.

He burst through the front door, the heat of the inferno slamming into him like a physical force. The air was thick with smoke, burning his lungs with every breath. He coughed violently, tears streaming down his face, a mix of smoke and desperation. "Vera!" He screamed, his voice hoarse and broken. "Vera, where are you?!" Stumbling through the burning wreckage of what was once Vera's home, Erik’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of how close he was to possibly losing the only sister he had left. The flames licked at his skin, singeing his clothes as he pushed deeper into the house. His vision was blurred by the smoke that filled the air. His desperate eyes searched for Vera, and then he saw her—trapped in a room behind a glass door, her figure barely visible through the thick smoke. Relief surged through him for a brief moment, but it quickly turned to horror as he realized she wasn’t moving.

"Vera!" He screamed, throwing himself against the glass. His fists pounded on the barrier, but it wouldn’t give. The glass reinforced, meant to keep things out—or in. Erik’s fists pounded against the glass, each impact sending shockwaves of pain up his arms, but he didn’t care. Desperation clawed at him, fueling his frenzied attempt to break through. The glass wouldn’t budge. With a choked sob, Erik abandoned the futile pounding and threw his entire body against the door, ramming it with all the strength he could muster. The force sent him staggering back, but the door held firm. He slammed into it again, and again, each impact harder than the last, rattling his skull and frame, until his body finally gave out, and he collapsed against the door. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sweat and soot that streaked his skin. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one filled with smoke and sorrow. He pressed his forehead against the glass, his eyes squeezed shut as a coughing fit racked through him.

"No, no, no," he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice trembling with fear and despair. Then, with a sudden surge of raw emotion, he raised his fists once more and began to pound on the door, harder and harder. Each punch sent searing pain shooting through his hands, but he didn’t stop. The skin on his knuckles split open, blood mixing with the soot as he struck the glass over and over again, his mind consumed by a singular, desperate need to reach her. "Vera!" He screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. He had never screamed like this before, never let his emotions consume him so completely. His hand was broken, burnt, and bleeding, the glass stained with his blood. Each punch left him weaker, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let her go. He didn’t know how. The fire roared around him, closing in, but all he could focus on was the agony in his chest. A sob wracked through his body, followed by violent coughing as the smoke filled his lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He has never felt so helpless, so utterly defeated. Vera, his sister, lay motionless on the floor, her body still and eerily silent as the fire crept closer, devouring everything in its path. The flames reflected in the glass, casting an orange glow over her lifeless form. Erik could barely see her through the smoke, but he knew—he knew she was gone. The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of him.

"Vera!" His voice cracked, the raw agony in it piercing through the roar of the fire. He slammed his fists against the glass one last, desperate to reach her, to hold her, to do anything but to be powerless. But it was too late. The flames surged into the room, consuming everything. The heat was unbearable, the smoke suffocating, but the pain in his chest was worse than anything the fire could inflict. Erik was collapsed against the glass door, his strength had left him as the reality of what he had just witnessed settled in. The fire raged on, but all he could see was her still form, burned into his memory forever.

When the firefighters finally dragged him out of the burning house, Erik didn’t resist. He was beyond feeling anything—his body numb, his mind shattered. He had watched his sister die, helpless to save her. As he was pulled to safety, the screams and sobs of a broken boy filled the air. His sister was dead.
Erik sat motionless, his once frantic energy drained into a hollow silence as he watched the flames consume everything his sister had ever built. The roar of the fire, once deafening, was now a distant murmur, leaving only the crackle of dying embers and the charred remnants of her world. He stared, unblinking, as the last of the flames sputtered out, leaving nothing but ash and ruin in their wake.

Erik remained where he was, numb and unresponsive. But as the reality of what had happened settled into his bones, a slow, agonizing determination took hold of him. With a groan of pain, he forced himself to his feet, his back screaming in protest, but he pushed through the agony. He had to find her. Stumbling through the wreckage, Erik moved with a single-minded focus toward the spot where he had last seen Vera, his heart pounding with a desperate hope that he knew was futile. The ruins of her home were a twisted maze of blackened debris, but he clawed through it, tossing aside burned remnants with a ferocity born of grief. His hands, already broken and bleeding, dug through the ashes until they hit something solid. He froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, and then he pulled the object free. It was Vera’s heat-resistant coat, untouched by the fire. Erik clutched it to his chest, burying his face in the fabric as he tried to find some comfort in the lingering scent of her. It was all he had left now, a tangible piece of his sister that the flames hadn’t stolen from him.

He pulled the coat on, its weight settling around his shoulders like a cold embrace. It was far too big for him, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel close to her, even if it was just an illusion, something to hold onto as he continued his search through the charred remains.
But before he could go any further, strong hands grabbed him from behind, pulling him away from the wreckage. He struggled weakly, his exhausted body resisting the pull, but he was too far gone to put up much of a fight. He caught a glimpse of a familiar face—someone from his family, maybe, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The world around him blurred, the weight of his grief pulling him down into a dark, empty void where nothing mattered anymore. As he was dragged away, the coat remained wrapped around him, a final connection to the sister he couldn’t save. His mind was a haze of anguish, the world around him fading into a dull gray as he was led away from the ruins of the only person who had ever truly understood him. In the end, all that was left was the crushing emptiness of loss, a void that nothing could ever fill.

The rain drizzled softly, a gray veil over the funeral, as Lila stood in the distance, hidden from her family by a spell that cloaked her from their sight. Only Erik could see her, the one person she couldn’t abandon. She hadn’t seen her parents in months, and she wasn’t ready to face them. Not now. Not here. Not with everything that had happened.

The guilt gnawed at her—the guilt of leaving, of running away without a word to her mother, of being unable to face her father. But Erik needed her. And for him, she would come back, even if it meant stepping into the shadows of a grief she had no words for.

Vera's casket lay at the front, draped in flowers. Lila approached in silence, the world muffled around her as she knelt and placed some dandelions, her favorite flowers, on top. Her heart clenched painfully. Vera had been everything to Erik. His rock, his compass, the one person who understood him in ways no one else ever could. And now, she was gone. Lila’s fingers trembled as she stood back, casting one last glance at the casket, her throat tightening with sorrow and regret.

Quietly, she slipped to Erik’s side, the weight of the moment pressing on her like a storm. She didn’t say a word, knowing he wouldn’t want to talk. Words couldn’t fill the void left by Vera. So she sat down next to him, gently slipping her hand into his. His fingers were cold, trembling slightly, and she squeezed them tightly, offering the only comfort she could.

They sat in silence, the kind that carried all the grief and loss, where words didn’t dare intrude. Lila could feel the weight of Erik’s heart shattering next to her, the quiet devastation radiating from him in waves. Vera was gone, and with her, a piece of him had been ripped away.

Lila felt tears welling up, but she held them back. This wasn’t about her. Not today. Erik’s pain was louder than her guilt, and she needed to be here for him, even if she couldn’t face the rest of her family. Even if her own regrets and fears loomed like a shadow over her.

She glanced up for a moment, seeing her father in the distance, standing stoically by her mother. The ache in her chest deepened. She wasn’t ready to face them. Not now. Not after everything she had done, and everything she had left behind. So she hid, hidden by magic, by her own choices, by the walls she had built around herself. But here, with Erik, she was just Lila. And that was enough.

They had always been together. Since before their own parents knew of their existences they've been together. Two peas in a pod. Erik’s first memory was Vera— of her little arms strong enough to carry him on her back, they couldn't have been no older than two years old, with Vera running wild through the yard. He could still hear her laughter, sharp and bright, like sunlight cutting through clouds, as she sprinted ahead, legs pumping as he cling to her. He remembered the way her hair smelled—like morning dew and something sweet he couldn’t name. He could almost feel the way her shoulders shook with laughter beneath his small hands as he shouted, “Faster, faster!” He had laughed too, a sound that bubbled up without warning, it was a pure, untethered joy and now it has died with her.

Now he would never hold her again. Never feel the warmth of her back against his chest as he clung to her. He would never get to yell, “Slow down, you’re going to trip!” just before they tumbled down a hill, limbs tangling in chaos. He always landed on his feet, some impossible miracle, while Vera would roll to the bottom, sprawled out into a breathless, giggling heap. She’d look up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief, and all he could do was laugh with her.

And then there was their secret language, the way they’d said “I love you” without ever needingbtobsau those words. Vera would touch the tip of his nose with her finger, a soft, feather-light brush, and whisper, “Be bop,” her grin wide, her eyes sparkling with mischief and love. That smile—it was his whole world. And now, that world was empty. When Lila took his hand at the funeral, he knew instantly it wasn’t Vera. Lila’s hands were cold, always cold, like the bite of winter mornings. Vera’s hands had been warm, so warm, like the heat of a summer day. She had always been able to warm him, wrapping her hands around his to chase the cold away, the way she’d chase away his fears, his sadness, his loneliness.

Now, all that warmth was gone. 

Lila’s cold fingers squeezed his, a poor imitation of comfort, and it only reminded him of how he used to trace stars on the back of Vera’s hand. Vera loved stars, had always been fascinated by them. Sometimes, they’d lie on the grass at night, staring up at the sky, and he’d trace constellations with his fingers on her skin while she pointed out the real ones above. Sometimes she would even remember the stories or the legends behind them.Those moments felt so far away now, like they belonged to another life, a life where Vera still existed.

Guests came and went, their words a blur of noise that never reached him. Their faces, their murmured condolences, were all so distant, like figures moving behind a thick fog. He should have been angry. Fury should have burned in his chest, hot and bright, at the people who claimed to mourn her, people who had never truly known Vera. They said hollow things, empty things, words that meant nothing. He wanted to scream at them, to tell them to shut up, to leave, to stop pretending they cared. Their words felt like a slap in the face, a mockery of his sister memory and legacy. Their gestures were insults, as if they could capture the essence of his sister’s life with a few empty phrases. 

But he didn’t scream. He didn’t curse them. He just stood there, staring at her gravestone, his eyes tracing the same words over and over. **Beloved sister.** **Beloved.** The word echoed in his mind, clinging to it like a lifeline, as if repeating it enough times would somehow bring her back. But it wouldn’t. Nothing could.

Eventually, the crowd thinned. His family remained—his parents, his grandfather, and Lila, still clutching his hand like she could somehow hold him together. His grandfather tried to speak to him, his voice soft and kind even if cracked and broken, but Erik didn’t hear him. The words slipped away before they could take root, like leaves caught in the wind. His grandfather’s voice merged with the low murmurs of his parents, their quiet conversation lost to him. He was too deep in his grief, too far gone to notice anything but the cold, hard truth before him: Vera was dead.

One by one, his family left. Lila gave him a small kiss on the cheek before letting go of his hand, the coldness of her touch lingering long after she had left. But Erik couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. His feet were rooted to the spot, his body refusing to turn away from Vera’s grave. To leave meant accepting she was truly gone, that she wasn’t just asleep beneath the earth, waiting for him to wake her up. In his mind, as long as he stayed by her side, some part of her was still here, still with him. He couldn’t bear to leave her behind. Not yet.

But his father pulled him away, forced him to turn his back on the gravestone, and that was when it hit him. Like a tidal wave crashing down, the truth of it washed over him, drowning him in an ocean of grief so deep he couldn’t breathe.

She was gone. His sister was gone. And he was alone.

The tears came then, unstoppable, burning hot as they streamed down his face. He choked on his sobs, his whole body shaking with the force of his sorrow. His father wrapped him in his arms, holding him tightly as the world collapsed around him. Erik clung to him, his fists balled in his father’s coat, the only thing anchoring him to reality as everything else slipped away. His father whispered soft words, words Erik couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand, as they slowly made their way home.

But nothing mattered anymore. Not without Vera. The world had lost its color, its light, its warmth. Everything was cold now.

As Bucky and Loki took Erik back to the car, Nat waited for Celia, "Come, Celia, they're waiting for us," she told her offering a hand, "I'll deal with the paperwork later, for now you need to get some rest," she knew she hadn't slept since she heard the story, well who could? This had broken the entire family's heart.

Was she really dead?" That one question—that unbearable, unrelenting question—had taken root in her mind. No matter how many times she tried to shove it down, it clawed its way back up. If she ever said it out loud, if she ever dared to speak it, everyone would think she’d lost her mind.

"How can you just stand there?" she snapped, her voice rough and raw, barely recognizable as her own. She turned on her friend, tears burning behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to show how weak she felt. "How can you—" Her voice broke, but she pushed on, her chest tightening with the weight of her grief. "How can you act like this is normal? Like we’re supposed to just... Accept this?" 

But Celia’s gaze remained fixed on the gravestone, her face a storm of grief and fury. “How dare you,” she spat, her voice sharp and full of pain. “How dare you think that marrying my father makes you a mother to me? You lied to me, kept me away from him, all while you wove yourself into his life. And now, you have the gall to act like you care, like you have a right to be part of this family. It’s revolting.”

Her voice trembled as she continued, her eyes blazing with accusation. “You have no right to be upset over Vera's death. You’re the one who has blood on your hands. How many children did you send to their deaths? How many lives did you ruin, and yet you stand here pretending to be a mother figure, pretending to care? It’s sickening. Even your own daughter hates you. She sees through your facade, just like I do. You’re not a mother to me. You never have been, and you never will be. Your actions have done nothing but made this family worse. You’ve never helped, never cared—just stood by while everything fell apart. You’re a constant reminder of everything that’s been stolen from us, and you don’t have the right to grieve or pretend to be part of our family.”

Nat stood there in silence, what could she say? Celia's words cut as deep as a sword, not even a knife. "I- I'm sorry," she managed to say, more like a whisper, it would be a miracle if Celia heard those words, but they were true, she was sorry, for everything, but she would fix it, she would find a way to repay her, to show her how much she means to her, how much she cares for their family- Celia's family. Nat walked away and found her husband, she took his hand as soon as she reached him, she needed to ground herself for what was coming, this wouldn't be easy, and she wanted to experience having him beside her at least a moment more, "We should go home now," she said softly to Loki.

Taking his wife's hand in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze, offering what little comfort he could. He knew no words could ease the pain that weighed on their family, not after losing Vera. With a final, lingering glance at their granddaughter's grave, he allowed Natalia to take them home. The silent home.

Flaring her nostrils, she rushed toward her home, the very cage she had trapped herself in when she was far too young and broken to understand the weight of her choices. Each step felt heavy with the burden of memories she couldn't escape, shadows of her past looming over her. As she entered the kitchen, the familiar scent of home clashed with the turmoil inside it. She brushed past her family and she muttered under her breath, "Vera was so fortunate to escape this nightmare," with bitterness seeping into her words.

She made some tea to calm her nerves and the impulse to cry. It was too tempting to have one more day, one last day, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to do it if she gave in. Walking to her daughter's empty room, she stood before the door, it was exactly as Lila left it, the lavender scent wasn't there anymore. Nat sat at the edge of Lila’s empty bed, her fingers tracing the blankets as if she could still feel her daughter's presence. The silence in the house was unbearable. She took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she finally broke. "I can't take it anymore, Loki. This... this is too much." Her gaze drifted to the door, as if Lila might walk through it any second, but it remained closed. "Every day, I wait. I hope. But she's gone, and I don't know if she'll ever come back." Tears welled in her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "And Vera-" she couldn't even end the phrase.

"What do you mean?" Bucky turned to face her, nightmare? It was a nightmare now that Vera wasn't there anymore, "Is there something you want to talk about, Celia?" he asked to her, he was trying to be supportive and comprehensive with her, this was hard for both, so the least he could do was listen to his wife and be there for her.

The kettle hissed, cutting through the heavy silence that enveloped the house like a shroud. Nat's husband entered the kitchen, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were afraid of disturbing the fragile atmosphere. He lifted the kettle, steam rising like wisps of lost hope, and poured the boiling water into their shared tea cups—matching porcelain pieces that once felt whole but now represented a painful absence. They used to be three, a cherished trio, but now only two remained. Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he exhaled slowly, fighting to maintain his composure for the sake of his family. He clutched the cups, their warmth offering a small comfort amidst the chilling reality of their loss. As he walked toward their youngest daughter’s room, he could feel the weight of sorrow pressing down on him, a burden that seemed almost too much to bear. “Nat,” he said gently, entering the dimly lit room where his wife sat perched on the edge of Lila's empty bed, “she will return. They always do.” His voice was low, filled with an earnestness that belied the tears welling in his eyes at the mention of his granddaughter’s name. He lowered his gaze to the cup in his hands, focusing on the steam swirling above it, hoping to dispel the painful memories that threatened to consume him. "I know..." It came out as a broken whisper.


An old, familiar flame of anger flickered within her, a relentless blaze she had carried for as long as she could remember—one that felt like a curse passed down from her mother. It was a fire she had never quite learned to temper or control, merely choosing to ignore it as it smoldered beneath the surface. Now, it craved to set everything ablaze. "Don't play fucking stupid with me, James," she spat, her voice low and fierce, her eyes narrowing with intensity. "You know damn well what I mean. This family is, has always been, and always will be a fucking nightmare to live with." Each word dripped with frustration, the weight of her unspoken pain palpable in the air between them. "That’s why Vera left. If she was wise, she’d stay gone for good, but knowing her, she’ll be back in a few years. She could never keep well enough alone." The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable, echoing the chaos and heartbreak woven into her voice.

What she was about to say broke her, "Why didn't you listen, I told you this would happen," the fact that those words left her lips hurt, she knew what would happen, but this was for the best, she didn't deserve any of this, she should be alone, everytime she thinks she did something good, that ends up hurting others, hurting the ones she loved the most, so this would end now, for them...


No, he didn't-couldn't believe his daughter, his little girl was gone, but maybe he should, "Celia, she's not-" saying it was so awful, but he has to, for her and for Erik, "She's not coming back," what she was saying was coming from her grief, nothing more, she didn't meant that, right?

It took him a moment to process her words, but when they hit, the fury surged through him like wildfire. He slammed his cup down on the table, the tea sloshing over the edge, his eyes narrowing with barely contained rage. "Excuse me?" His voice was sharp, trembling with anger and frustration. "I did listen. I tried! I quit my job to make more time for this family, for you, for everyone! You think I didn't see what was happening? I was trying to hold everything together while you were too busy focusing on Lila and no one else!" His voice cracked, but he pushed through, his hands shaking as he threw his arms out, gesturing wildly. "I was trying to prevent this! All of this!" He could barely hold back the venom in his voice. "I was terrified Vera would… do what she did!" He choked on the words, unable to say them, the pain twisting in his gut like a knife. "And now you're blaming me? You ignored the rest of us! You neglected this family in favor of Lila! Maybe if you had been there for the rest of us, Vera would still be alive, and Lila wouldn't have run off!" His voice boomed through the room, shaking with bitterness. "So don’t you dare stand there and act like you’re the only one grieving, like you’re the only one who saw this coming! I was trying to save this family while you let it fall apart!"


"No one ever believed me," Celia spat, her voice trembling with a mix of pain and fury. "No, I’m just the grieving mother losing her mind, right?" She stood up abruptly, her hands balling into fists as her eyes burned with unshed tears. Her face twisted into a bitter snarl as she glared at him, the weight of years of bottled-up resentment flooding out. "Why do I even bother expecting you to understand? You never have! You’ve always been so goddamn blind to everything that mattered, if a square peg doesn't fit you get a fucking hammer to try and force it to fit!" Her husband opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a sharp, venomous laugh. "It’s why Vera left. It’s why I left. You blew up because Vera always been different!" Her voice rose, the fury inside her boiling over as she jabbed a finger in his direction, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anguish and disdain. "I don’t even know why I ever assumed better of you. You’re just as pathetic as you’ve always been. No wonder our daughter wanted to escape. No wonder she wants nothing to do with us!"

She trained her whole life to manipulate people to get what she wanted, so why was this so hard? "Now is my fault?! I was here! I was trying to pick up the pieces of a broken family! but you? you spend so much time with Vera, well tell me why you haven't prevented her from that monster! If you knew her so well, why did you allow the fucking trial! You were so eager to handle everything that you hadn't done anything right!" she said as she left Lila's room and went to face him, "So don't come at me and try to put this on my plate, I was being both parents for Lila and trying to be there for Erik and Barnes!"

"I know I messed up, I didn't want her to change, I wanted to protect her, I was wrong and I admitted it, I regret what I did and I will keep doing it the rest of my life," even with her rising her voice he was calm, he knew that she was trying to get a reaction out of him, to fight, but he knew better. "There is no point in talking about past mistakes, we just have to work together and fix them," he told her.