February 2019

9 months since The Vanishing

Calina signed her name at the bottom of the last page. Dated it, recapped the pen, then handed everything back to the lawyer sitting opposite her.

"That's great," the older man said, collecting the stack of documents. "I'll get these couriered to the seller's attorney. Once the funds clear his account, we'll get the keys to you."

"I already have the keys. My boyfriend was the former tenant."

"Oh, I should have remembered that. I'm sorry for your loss."

Calina tried not to grimace at the trite words - and the off-hand, careless delivery of them. "Thank you."

"Well it's good to see you're moving on. Making plans, and all that. Real estate is still the best investment for your future - even if the market opened up quite a bit after Thanos did his thing."

He sounded put out. Probably annoyed because the fall in house prices affected his usual commission, Calina thought. She'd come across a few people like him over the past seven months - people who saw the Vanishing as a mere inconvenience, rather than the life-altering tragedy that it was. People who hadn't lost anyone close to them. People who lacked the empathy and compassion to understand how completely and fundamentally different the world was now.

A part of Calina envied him his ignorance. She'd seen too much of this new world.

Her mind conjured the images of burning rubble, and the screams from the people trapped beneath it; the teenager abandoned on the side of the road, a perfectly round bullet hole in his forehead; the little girl in the yellow dress, her pale, limp hand hanging off the side of the bed-

Calina shook off the memories. She grabbed her purse, thanked the asshole lawyer and pulled open the office door.

Karen rose from where she'd been sat in the waiting room. "All done?"

"All done."

The two of them headed out into the chilled winter sunshine. Calina shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat as an icy wind swirled through the streets. "Jesus, it's cold."

Karen laughed. "You've been in the desert too long. This is almost tropical by New York standards. "Despite her words, Karen shivered and matched Calina's pace as they hurried towards the heat of the nearby coffee shop.

Over cups of coffee and hot chocolate, Karen tried to get more details about Calina's latest mission. "So are you going to tell me what you were doing in Botswana for two whole months? I haven't seen anything in the news about any trouble there."

"Which means we did our job."

"And that job was...?"

"Nice try. The UN may have revoked the Sokovia Accords, but their non-disclosure agreements are just as scary. I'd rather not end up on The Raft."

"Fair enough."

Karen stared at her as she sipped her drink, as if trying to catalogue the changes in Calina since they'd last seen each other. "You look better," she finally said.

Calina nodded. She'd put on some of the weight that she'd lost in the beginning. The tan she'd gotten from the fierce Kalahari sun made her seem healthier. But it was all surface. A facade. Underneath was a different story. She still felt carved out. Hollow. As if she was only half alive. And the horrors of the past seven months clung to her. Devouring the parts of her that remained. Eating her up with the guilt and pain of her failures.

The yellow dress. The hand dangling from the bed. The quiet drip, drip, drip-

Calina sucked in a breath and forced her mind away from that day. Her hand shook slightly as she placed her cup back on the table.

Karen noticed, of course. "Are you okay?"

Calina waved off her concern. Then lied straight to her face. "I'm fine. Just jet lag."

Karen raised an eyebrow. Calina gave her a small smile.

It was a familiar conversation between them, one now distilled down into a couple of silent gestures:

'I know you're lying to me.'

'Yes, but I'm not ready to talk about it.'

The next part of their little charade was to move on and change the subject. Karen obliged. "How are you feeling about today? Any regrets?"

Calina knew Karen's thoughts on the topic. She'd been very forthcoming with them. She worried that Calina's desire to buy Matt's apartment was an act of denial - that somehow she still believed that he was coming back. Karen worried that such false hope was damaging.

But it wasn't an act of denial on Calina's part. There was no hope - false or otherwise. She knew Matt wasn't coming back. She hadn't bought the place for him, she'd bought it for her.

It had been her first ever home. More than her own apartment, which she'd been happy to give up as soon as the lease ended. The time she'd spent in Matt's apartment, with Matt, had been the happiest she'd ever been. She'd felt safe. She'd felt loved.

She'd felt at home.

And she wanted to preserve that. To keep the apartment as proof that she'd had a real and beautiful life for a while.

Even if it hurt too much to visit it right now.

"No regrets," she replied confidently.

Karen gave her the eyebrow again.

Calina smiled. "Truly. No regrets."

"Okay."

"What about you?" Calina asked. "Any regrets about moving out of Manhattan?"

"No. I need the change of scenery. And I think it will be good for David. He grew up there, so I think it will help him feel connected to the family he lost."

"What about work? What will you do?"

Karen shrugged. "I'm free-lancing for the Bulletin and a few other publications, so I can do that from anywhere."

Calina heard the sadness in her voice. The lack of enthusiasm. And knew she was missing the work she used to do with Foggy and Matt.

"Kinda hard to have a law firm with no lawyers," Karen had joked after giving up the lease on their office space last year. The two of them had held a farewell party the night before she had to hand over the keys. They'd drunk cheap sparkling wine out of plastic cups and sat cross-legged on the conference room table eating Chinese food.

And the absence of Foggy and Matt in that moment had felt overwhelming.

"Promise me something," Karen had asked, head lowered as she tapped her fingers against the side of her cup.

"Anything."

"Will you stay in touch?" She lifted her head to stare at Calina, a plaintive and lost look in her eyes. "I know you're going to be travelling all over the world, and you'll be busy stopping wars and important stuff like that, but give me a call now and then? Please? I feel like..."

"What?"

"We're kinda the last people on earth who really knew Foggy and Matt. Like, really knew them. Who they were as individuals, and what they were like together, here, in this firm. I'm worried that without someone to share those memories with, it will all start to feel like-"

"It wasn't real."

"Exactly."

"I understand." Calina did understand. She worried about the same thing - that she'd start to doubt what she'd shared with Matt. That the memory of what they had together would be distorted by time and distance. That it would all fade without someone to share it with. "And I promise, you'll always have me in your life. I'll call when I can, and I'll visit as often as I'm able to."

———

June 2019

Just over a year since the Vanishing

"I didn't expect another visit so soon," Karen remarked, then seemed to realise how that sounded. "Not that I'm complaining!"

"I didn't either, to be honest. But I was nearby - in the Avengers compound upstate."

"You're living in the Avengers compound?"

"It's a temporary base while we're stateside. Or it was until I got kicked out."

"What? Why?"

"I've been working too hard apparently. My therapist said I needed a break to recharge."

"You're seeing a therapist?"

Calina grimaced. "Not by choice. We all have mandated weekly sessions, to make sure we're not going off the deep end. Even when we're out on a mission they make us do Zoom calls with the psychologist!"

Karen smiled at her disgruntled tone. "I know it's not the way you're used to doing things, but it sounds like a good idea. I'm glad they're taking care of you."

"It's definitely not the way we used to do things. In fact, everything's different..."

"Good different or bad different?"

Calina shrugged, unsure how much she wanted to share. Karen didn't push - which was something she liked about the other woman - she just settled back in the lawn chair to watch Nika run around the backyard, giving Calina space to think.

The two of them had rocked up to Karen's new house unannounced less than an hour ago. Dr Gossard had suggested booking into a spa hotel for the weekend, but that had felt far too frivolous and self-indulgent, especially after the mission she'd just been on. It didn't feel right to pamper herself while those families in Mexico were struggling to feed their children...

So she'd come here, to this little house on Long Island, hoping to crash on Karen's couch for a couple of nights.

She'd been welcomed in straight away. David had taken her backpack from her, offered Nika a chunk of cheese as a treat, then retreated upstairs to give them some privacy. Karen had thrust a beer in her hand and ushered her into the backyard where they could enjoy the warm summer evening while they caught up.

It was very...homely...here. In a typical suburban American way. She could hear children splashing in a pool next door. Birds chirped in the trees, and bees hummed from the rose bushes lining the fence. The tinny sound of the TV from David's den upstairs mingled with the rumble of the cars on the main road behind the house.

It was nice. But also surreal - she felt like she'd stepped onto a movie set. Like this wasn't real life.

It definitely wasn't her life.

The yellow dress. The hand dangling from the bed. The pool of red blood on the floor. Still liquid, still warm...

Calina flinched as the images intruded, that awful scene such a contrast to this idyllic surrounding. She sat forward and buried her face in her hands, so tired of seeing that little girl.

Just so tired...

Nika came trotting over, as if sensing her dark thoughts. She tried to wedge her head between Calina's arms, her wet nose cool against her skin as she whined in concern.

Calina sat back and stroked her hand over Nika's furry head. "I'm okay, girl. Go play."

Nika stared at her a few moments, as if checking her over. "Go play," Calina repeated. Nika cocked her head to the side, a move that never failed to remind Calina of Matt, and the way he would jerk his head to follow a sound.

The corner of her mouth tipped up in a hint of a smile as she thought of how Matt would react to being compared to a dog. Nika wagged her tail in response to Calina's shift in mood. Satisfied that her human was okay, she took off back to the patch of grass she'd been happily sniffing earlier.

"So Nika's like an emotional support dog now?" Karen asked softly.

Calina sat back in her chair and shrugged. "Emotional support, tactical support, workout partner...you name it, she can do it."

"A bit different from the goofy, unruly puppy I saw last time."

"She still has her goofy, unruly moments, but she's a good soldier. She saved my life last month - sniffed out an old IED outside Kabul moments before I would have triggered it."

"Jesus."

"Yeah, I'm lucky to have her."

"Bombs in Afghanistan, mysterious missions in the desert...I'm worried about you, Calina," Karen said, twisting in her chair to face her. "Are you being careful out there? And not reckless, like a certain man in red we used to know?"

Karen's words brought up the image of Daredevil leaping through the air, the moonlight glinting off the horns on his mask. God, she used to love watching him. The way he would fling himself across the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen. His power and speed, the precision of his movements...he was so captivating to her in those moments. Pure power and grace.

So full of life.

All of it gone now.

She felt another wave of grief cresting. A tear slipped from her eye before she could wipe it away.

"Oh, Calina," Karen breathed.

Calina tried to smile through the tears, to reassure her friend. "I'm fine. It just hits me sometimes."

Karen didn't look reassured. In fact, she looked more worried than ever. "Maybe this wasn't the right thing for you to do - all this fighting. All these missions. Maybe you should be concentrating on grieving instead."

Calina huffed. "That sounds like a barrel of laughs."

"I'm serious. This new life seems to be taking a lot out of you. You seem...fragile."

"Its just been a rough couple of months. And these missions...they're not what we're used to."

"In what way?"

Calina picked at the label on her beer bottle as she tried to explain. "We were trained to be spies and assassins. We were trained to be the bad guys. We carried out our missions, never knowing or caring who we hurt along the way. This hero thing - its different. We feel this...responsibility now. And those times when we fail...when we don't quite get there in time, or we don't manage to get everyone to safety..."

"What?"

"Let's just say the Red Room's punishment for failure was preferable."

Physical pain was easy. Bruises and broken bones were temporary - Calina had endured enough of them to know that. The few times she'd failed on her missions under Dreykov, she would accept her punishment, heal the damage, and move on. But she couldn't move on from this. From the weight of the memories, the faces of the people she'd failed-

The yellow dress. The pool of red blood on the floor. Those hazel eyes open and staring at the door, as if waiting for someone to walk through and save her...

But she'd been too late.

Five fucking minutes too late.

The Children of Byzantium had been operating under the radar in the foothills of the Ural mountains in northern Kazakhstan since before The Vanishing. A doomsday cult, run by Pyotr Levin - a former Russian Orthodox priest - they believed the end of the world was coming in 2020. Thanos' snap may have been two years ahead of their schedule, but it convinced the cult members that their prophet was right - about the end of the world, and everything else he espoused, such as the need to sublimate women, have multiple wives, and marry them young.

Very young.

The trouble was, there weren't enough young girls in the cult to satisfy the men who survived the snap, let alone those who joined it afterwards. So their recruitment tactics became more aggressive - and much less voluntary. They started kidnapping all the young girls from the surrounding villages and towns, and used their stockpile of weapons to terrorise their parents into staying silent.

But word got out, and the Widows were sent in to rescue the girls and end Levin's reign.

But they were too late.

Levin found out about the raid in advance, and ordered the execution of the girls. While he fled into the mountains, his disciples slit the throats of those captive, terrified girls.

The yellow dress. The pool of red blood on the floor. Still liquid, still warm. The pale, limp hand hanging off the side of the bed, and those unseeing eyes-

"Calina?" Karen asked, her voice tentative and worried.

Calina forced herself back to the present. To the soft evening sunlight filtering through the trees. To the sound of those children next door - alive and happy and thriving. To Nika's happy barks as she chased a firefly around the yard.

A glint of...something...caught Calina's eye, up in the branches of the large oak near the garden gate. She tensed, the flash of reflective light making her think of telescopic lenses on sniper rifles...

But then she relaxed. It was just the remnants of a foil balloon, the material catching the light from the setting sun. Calina pointed it out to Karen. "Did you have a party here?" It didn't seem like Karen's style - by her own admission, she hadn't made a ton of friends out in the suburbs.

"No," Karen replied. "But next door had one - a kind of wake-slash-celebration of survival."

"What for?"

Karen gave her a strange look. "For the anniversary. Two weeks ago. It's been a year since...it...happened."

Calina struggled to place today's date. Then she counted backwards...oh. "I- I didn't realise. This last mission... it was-"

"Hey," Karen interrupted, putting a hand on her arm. "It's okay. It's just a date."

"But I should have known. How could I not have known?" She could feel her voice rising in pitch, her heart racing. Guilt swelled within her. How could she have let it pass her by...

"Calina did you think about Matt today?"

Karen's abrupt question took her by surprise. "What? Yes, of course - we were just talking about Daredevil."

"And did you think about him yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And the day before that?"

"Yes."

"Is there a day since he disappeared that you haven't thought about him?"

"No," she whispered. She thought about him every day, a million times a day. She missed him every single day. She woke up missing him. She fell asleep at night missing him.

"Then the date doesn't matter," Karen said softly.

"I guess not."