WARNING! SLIGHT ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

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twenty

(—the in-between)

THE WITCH WAS neither here nor there. She was somewhere, somewhere void of light and sound and smell, her only company vague thoughts that barely made sense. She didn't know how long she'd been stuck in this limbo and the harder she tried to remember the less she could recall.

Bits and pieces floated around in her mind, flashes of a life she once had but no longer was able to live, a life that was stolen by a single snap. Snippets of broken conversations and stormy eyes and wind brushing against her cheek— or was it fingers? She couldn't remember.

She didn't remember much anymore.

For instance, she didn't remember her name. She knew she had one, she knew she'd once listened to it fall off the lips of a man like her name was his salvation, like she was an answer to an unspoken prayer. But every time she came close to remembering the letters will fall apart and she was left to struggle to piece together the remains.

Frustration was all too familiar as yet another memory pierced through the haze that had descended upon her, the edges smeared and the colors watery.

There was a man, there was almost always a man if she was being honest, and there was the feel of her body melding with the ground, an unyielding weight on top of her, a weight that comforted and soothed her raging soul, and warmth blooming in her chest and the scent of night mixing with the scent of sweat and the man's name lingering in her mouth as she pressed her lips to his and—

Gone. It was gone without warning and anger boiled in her body, and she knew that anger wasn't a new emotion, but rather one she felt quite often. Whether it was from her previous life or from her confinement in this hell she didn't know.

An eerie silence was broken by the sudden chirping of birds and leaves rustled softly. Dust started to rise around the world, slowly drawing lost souls from a fractured place, bodies being pieced back together. Okoye stood still, watching with strange mixture of hope and fear as her fallen comrades started to reappear.

They had succeeded.

The general was suddenly sprinting, hurtling herself towards that wretched forest that she hadn't stepped foot in for over five years, emotions heightened and limbs shaking. She came to a halt, her hand rising to her mouth, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes at the sight of T'Challa Udaku. He seemed frozen in time, his body a monochrome of ashy brown, before the dust peeled away, leaving behind a very alive, very real T'Challa.

Throughout the forest where their last stand had been taking place more dust solidified, creating statues that came off in flakes to give way to people long thought dead.

She felt a disturbance, a chill that crawled along her skin— did she still have skin? Did she even have a body? This was the first physical sensation that had graced her senses in a long time, but how long? She knew the word time. She knew it meant something important, meant something that measured, but she couldn't quite place it.

Without warning the paper puzzle she'd been carefully constructing tore and vanished, what little sense she had of herself going with it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to thrash and beg and let her voice grow hoarse and to feel the words get caught in her mouth and yet—

Nothing.

She could do nothing

She had nothing.

She was nothing.

James Buchanan Barnes stumbled back, a gasp eliciting from his throat, the midday sun hurting his eyes. He heard his name and looked around, confusion rising in him at the small differences that were visible. The trees seemed taller, the leaves more vibrant, the grass full and not trampled down by battle.

And then came the explanation that echoed through his ear pierce, confusion replaced with hope and then regret and then a calmness that spread through his body. He looked around, turning in a circle as figures emerged from the woods around him and he said their names softly to remind himself that this was real, that he was real, that he was no longer wherever he was before.

Sam. T'Challa. Wanda.

Okoye then listed the people that had survived, the people that had fought with tooth and nail to get them back.

Steve. Nat. Rhodey. Tony. Thor.

More names were mentioned but when she stopped James felt fear, a white-hot flash that made his throat close up and his muscles tense.

"Where's Maev?"

She didn't understand what was happening to her. She didn't understand why the infinite space she had been in suddenly felt like it was rapidly contracting and for once she could feel what was around her, invisible walls squeezing her from the sides and even though she didn't need to breathe, it suddenly became hard to focus.

Something was shaking, was it her? Was it the space?

And then whatever had been suspending her in that strange in-between place vanished, and then she was falling, falling falling falling–

She screamed, or at least she tried to as she spun, and in the midst of her descent she realized she could feel again, that she was in fact in a body and that she could feel air whipping against her skin and her arm burning and despite the terror that coursed through her, the witch felt something else.

She was relieved that she could feel again.

James felt anxious as he stood where Okoye had directed him, Sam standing behind him with Wanda, the two a quiet presence by the super soldier's side. The ground rustled and slowly, so slowly he wanted to scream, dust started to form.

First was her feet, tucked underneath legs, a spine forming and curling, head bent and unseeing eyes staring down at hands.

James held his breath, praying to whatever otherworldly being that would help him, that Maev would be okay. He took a step forward as the dust started to solidify, a monochromatic statue of the witch he loves holding steady.

He sunk to his knees in front of her, worry consuming him, "Maev, can you hear me?"

Pain slammed into her and she screamed, and this time she knew she was screaming. Her body felt like it was on fire, her skin stretched too tight over unyielding bones crafted of iron and blood that boils beneath her human shell.

She knew that whatever awaited her fall was coming quickly, a looming presence that threatened to swallow her whole, an ocean of magic and memories rising up to greet her.

She slammed into the great abyss, sinking quickly as a flurry of bubbles escaped her open mouth. Agony flared in her skull and she grabbed at her hair, pulling and hoping to ease the pressure in her skull, images flashing before her mind one after the other, building and building and building–

Flowers blooming at her fingertips, earth splintering beneath her palms, anger reigning supreme and leaving behind a trail of death, darkness edging her mind, magic revolting in her veins, spat curses and raised eyebrows and knife opening flesh and paper cuts and records spinning in the background and a metal arm and carefully cutting out newspaper articles and fighting and fighting and fighting and fighting and then—

"Maev."

A voice echoed in the space, male and familiar. Was that her name? Was that someone else's name? No, it didn't belong to someone else, somehow she knew it was hers. It was nice to remember that.

"Maev?" His voice was growing more frantic as the dust took too long to peel away, as everyone else returned and yet Maev remained a statue, the look of confusion and fear tearing at his heart. "Please come back," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, "everyone else came back, it's only fair that you come back too."

Wanda took a step forward, head tilting to the side as she felt the consciousness of the frozen witch grow stronger, "It's okay." The woman said softly, "she's almost here."

Finally, finally a piece of dust peeled off, fluttering away in the soft summer wind.

—and then she found peace.

Maev remembered that. She had found peace in her gardening, peace in growing flowers for the curious children, peace in braiding hair (sometimes her own, sometimes the man's), peace in intertwined fingers and cool metal against her skin.

Her hand rose and curled around the metal laying against her chest. She clung onto the dog tags, letting the name imprint onto her skin as memory after memory flooded her mind.

And finally, finally the void vanished.

The dust fell away in thick clumps now, revealing tanned skin and carefully inked designs and black hair and eyes pressed firmly shut. Her chest rose and fell as she took a breath and James felt the absence in his mind fade as the tether reappeared, a thin thing at first that quickly grew and strengthened within the span of seconds. He waited for a moment before shifting closer, the worry less overwhelming but still present.

James lifted his hand, gently cupping her cheek, watching as the witch leaned into his touch, fondness flooding his chest as the tether strengthened. She took a deep breath, her hands falling to the ground, fingers digging into the soil. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, a gentle smile curling her lips upward.

"Maev?" He said softly, tentatively.

Maev Barebone opened her eyes, "Hello James."

Her hand rose from the earth, brushing against his own cheek, hesitance in her movements as if she was afraid he would vanish again. Her fingers fell from his cheek down to his chest, her palm pressing against the fabric of his shirt until she could feel the steady beating of his heart.

Her lower lip trembled slightly and James felt alarmed at the sight of tears in her eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I felt you disappear," she whispered, "I felt the tether fray and vanish and then there was nothing left. You were gone." Her voice breaks on the last word, hazel eyes full of sorrow and remembrance. He didn't answer, instead, he drops his hand from her cheek and places it over the one she had on his heart. He leans forward and so did she, their heads bowing and foreheads touching, and only then did James speak.

"I'm here." Is all he says.

And that's all she needs: skin against skin, heart in hand, souls intertwined.

asfdkjel i'm literally so soft for them

i hope this format made sense to read! when i thought of this chapter i imagined it flashing back and forth between maev stuck in the space where her soul resided and earth where everyone else was coming back to life. because her death was prolonged because of her magic, i thought it made sense to have her coming back to life take a moment as well.

let me know what you think :)