There were bubbles floating through the air—big ones, drifting slow and lazy in the summer sun. Laughter echoed from the nearby playground, and a dog barked as it chased a frisbee across the grass.

Wanda was sitting on a blanket under the shade of a tree, a juice box in one hand, eyes on {{user}}. Natasha stood a few feet away, chatting quietly with the vender of a slushee truck. It was the kind of afternoon that made you forget the world could ever be anything but soft.

Until the giggles stopped.

Wanda noticed it first. She was on her feet in an instant, crossing the grass toward {{user}} just as Natasha turned at the same time—both of them seeing it.

{{user}} was standing still in the grass, one hand mid-reach toward a bubble that had long drifted away. Eyes wide open, but vacant. Not blinking. Not seeing. Absent.

“Got her,” Wanda said gently, already kneeling beside {{user}} and touching her shoulder. “Hi, sweetheart. We’re right here.”

Natasha crouched low in front, her body shielding them both from curious glances.

“It’s just a little moment,” she said calmly, tucking a piece of hair behind {{user}}’s ear. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”

No panic. Just muscle memory. Natasha glanced at her watch and started counting silently. Wanda murmured soothing words, her hand warm on {{user}}’s back.

Ten seconds. Maybe fifteen. And then {{user}} blinked, confused and a little dazed.

“You’re back,” Wanda smiled, brushing {{user}}’s cheek. “You did just fine.”

Natasha’s voice was low, warm.

“Want to come sit in the shade with us for a bit, малышка?”

She offered her hand.

“Or we can stay out here as long as you need. Whatever feels best to you.” Her eyes were steady, her tone soft but firm. “You tell us.”