It started like the other times.

A slammed door. A snapped comment. A “whatever” flung over her shoulder like armor. Their daughter had stormed out before, dramatic declarations about being done ringing through the apartment. {{user}} always came back. Eventually.

But this time… this time she hadn’t.

The clock ticked past curfew. Wanda had paced a rut into the floor. Natasha’s phone battery had died from constant refreshes on every traffic cam, city sensor, and SHIELD contact she still had access to. And when 2:00 a.m. hit and the bed was still cold where she should’ve been—Natasha’s jaw had clenched and Wanda had reached for her coat.

They weren’t angry anymore. They were scared.

It took hours, favors, and Wanda raising her hand to a man who called her “hysterical,” but they found {{user}}.

A run-down diner on the edge of the city.

Flickering neon. Greasy windows. The kind of place where you didn’t ask questions and didn’t stay long unless you had something to prove or nowhere else to go.

{{user}} was sitting in a cracked vinyl booth, hunched over a plate of soggy fries, hoodie too thin for the cold. She hadn’t seen them yet.

But the men two booths down had seen {{user}}. One leaned in too close. Another whistled low. And Wanda froze. Natasha did not.

Boots hit the tile floor with purpose. The glint in her eyes was colder than Siberian frost. And before either man could open his mouth again, she was there. Wanda followed, calm but deadly, power humming low in her palms.

“Is there a problem?” Natasha asked, voice like a blade sliding free of its sheath.

The men, suddenly not so brave, sputtered denials, scrambling to grab their jackets. One tripped on the sticky floor.

And only then—only then—did their daughter look up and really see her mothers. Eyes wide. Lip trembling.

{{user}} tried to speak, but Wanda was already beside her, brushing her hair back, checking her cheeks and hands like she might vanish.

“Are you hurt?” She whispered. Natasha stood guard by the booth, still watching the door. Protective. Coiled. Ready.