Even from fifty yards away, through the brick and mortar of his house, she could feel him.

  It was like standing next to a fireplace after walking through a blizzard for five years.

  As she focused on his house, the screaming in her mind dialed down. It became a dull murmur. The crushing weight on her chest lifted just enough for her to take a full breath.

  "He is the medicine", she thought, the realization anchoring her. "I need him."

  She closed her eyes and the vision flashed again. Aryan, caring for her. Aryan, building a life for her. The sheer love in his eyes when he was proposing to her for marriage. Aryan, crying in the rain. Aryan, holding her dead body. And the shattering grief before the universe collapsed.

  He loved me, she reasoned, opening her eyes and staring at his front door. In that world, I was his entire life. And he lost me.

  A possessive coil tightened in her gut.

  He understands, she thought. He is the only one in this entire wretched reality who knows the specific weight of this pain. The Avengers don't know. They see a sad widow. But Aryan... he sees the woman he was going to marry.

  She shifted in the seat, feeling the residual energy of her variant self reach out to him.

  I want to be near him, she admitted to the darkness. I want to sit in the same room and just... exist. I want to let his presence wash over me until I can't feel the holes in my soul anymore.

  A light flickered on in the back of his house.

  Wanda leaned forward. Aryan's house had an open concept layout at the back, with large glass sliding doors that looked out onto the backyard… and directly onto the empty plot of land she had bought with Vision.

  She could see him.

  He was moving around the kitchen. He had taken off his jacket, revealing that blue t-shirt that hugged his shoulders.

  He was unpacking the groceries. He placed the milk in the fridge. He put the yogurt away.

  Then, he stopped.

  She watched as he patted his pockets. He looked at the counter. He looked inside the grocery bag again, shaking it upside down. Nothing fell out.

  He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. He opened the fridge again, staring into it as if hoping the item would materialize.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He started pacing. He opened a cupboard, checked it, closed it. He looked under the kitchen island… why would he look under there?

  He was talking to himself. She could see his lips moving. He looked frustrated.

  An involuntary smile tugged at Wanda's lips.

  He forgot something, she realized.

  It was so... human. So beautifully, flawed and mundane. Here was a man who had survived the destruction of a universe, a man who carried a tragedy as deep as hers and he was currently losing his mind over a missing ingredient.

  "He's silly," she whispered, her voice rasping in the quiet car.

  The observation made her heart ache. It was an ache of longing. She wanted to be in that kitchen. She wanted to be the one to tell him it was okay, that they could improvise. She wanted to lean against the counter and watch him cook.

  Wait.

  She looked down at the passenger seat. There was a small plastic bag there.

  She had bought lemons. She had planned to make lemon tea tonight, to try and soothe her throat from the crying she knew would come later.

  She looked back at the house. Aryan was now standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, looking defeated. He was mouthing the word Lemon.

  Wanda sat up straight.

  It's not stalking, she told herself, her heart rate picking up speed. It's neighborly. It's... fate.

  The universe had taken everything from her. Surely, it could give her this. Surely, it could give her a dinner where she didn't have to be alone.

  She put the car in gear.

  "Just a coincidence," she rehearsed, checking her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked tired, but her eyes... her eyes looked alive for the first time in forever.

  She drove the car slowly down the street, turning into the cul de sac and pulled up to the curb right in front of the empty plot of land… her land.

  [Perspective: Aryan Spencer]

  "Lemon. Lemon. Where art thou, Lemon?"

  I was tearing the kitchen apart. Figuratively. If I did it literally, it would be a headache to put the molecules back together.

  "I cannot believe this," I groaned, leaning back against the sink. "I have the chicken. I have the yogurt. I have the spices that I literally created from the ether of creation. But I forgot the damn lemons because I was too busy making goo goo eyes at the Scarlet Witch in aisle four."

  I looked at the ceiling. "You guys are laughing at me, aren't you? This is entertainment for you. 'Look at the cosmic god, defeated by a citrus fruit.'"

  I sighed, rubbing my face.

  "What do I do? Do I use vinegar? No, that's blasphemy. Do I summon a lemon? I could... but what if she's watching? If a lemon just pops into existence in my hand, that's going to be hard to explain. 'Oh, this? I keep emergency fruit in my sleeves. It's a magician trick.'"

  I looked out the sliding glass doors into the backyard.

  Wait.

  Headlights swept across the darkness of the empty lot behind my fence.

  I froze.

  The car stopped. The engine cut.

  It was the Buick.

  "She moved," I whispered. "She stopped stalking and started... parking?"

  I watched as the driver's door opened. Wanda stepped out. She was holding a small bag. She looked around the empty lot, kicking at a tuft of grass with her boot, looking up at the trees, examining the fence line.

  She was pretending to inspect her property. At 7:30 PM. In the dark.

  "Oh, you magnificent, terrible actress," I grinned. "I love you."

  My heart started hammering. This was it. This was the opening.

  Don't mess this up, Aryan. Be cool. Be the doctor. Be the neighbor.

  I took a deep breath, smoothing down my t-shirt. I walked to the sliding glass door and unlocked it.

  I stepped out onto the patio. The air was crisp.

  P.S. The residual energy she sensed earlier was slowly influencing her. That is why, instead of thinking he loved another variant, she believed he loved her. It was the subtle effect of that lingering energy.