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They didn't rush. The walk back through the compound was quiet, footsteps echoing softly in the hallways that felt more familiar now than cavernous. Carol's hand stayed warm in Athena's, fingers laced like neither of them needed to check if the other was still there. Inside Athena's room, the lights stayed low. Carol kicked off her boots near the door out of habit—her habit now—and set her jacket over the back of the chair without thinking. Athena noticed. She always did.

Carol moved around the space like she belonged in it, like the time away had been a pause instead of an absence. She washed her hands at the sink, leaned her hip against the counter the same way she always had, glanced toward the window out of reflex before relaxing. Athena leaned in the doorway and watched her, something warm and steady settling in her chest. "You hungry?" Athena asked eventually. Carol shook her head. "Just tired." Athena nodded, stepping closer, resting her forehead briefly against Carol's shoulder. No words. Just weight. Just presence.

Carol exhaled, long and content, and wrapped an arm around her. "Feels good to be back." Athena smiled, small and sure. "Yeah." They stood there for a while, letting the quiet do its work—letting the distance dissolve into something that felt like it had never really existed at all. And when they finally moved, it wasn't toward anything new. It was toward home. The next morning felt... normal. Which, after everything, felt like a small miracle.

Sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows as Athena leaned against the counter, coffee in hand, scrolling absently on her phone. Carol sat at the table, chair tipped back on two legs, boots kicked off, still wearing one of Athena's shirts like it had always been hers. Morgan was on the floor in her playpen, gnawing happily on a rubber star. Tony arrived like a man who had been holding his breath for twenty-four hours. "So," he said brightly, sliding into a chair and placing a thick folder on the table, "now that probation is over—" Pepper appeared behind him instantly. "It is not over." Tony deflated. "I waited a whole day."

"That was the rule," Athena said, amused. She glanced at Carol. "Ready?" Carol considered the question. She looked around—at the coffee, at Morgan, at Athena watching her like this was the real decision. "Yeah," Carol said. "Let's plan a wedding." Tony fist-pumped silently. Pepper sighed, then smiled despite herself. "Okay. Ground rules." She pulled out a notepad. "No aircraft carriers," Natasha said from the doorway.

"No space," Carol added. Tony opened his mouth. Pepper shot him a look. "Fine," Tony muttered. "No vehicles." Athena laughed. "We want something small." "Define small," Sam said, already leaning in from the other side of the room. "Family," Athena said. "Friends. That's it." Natasha nodded once. "Good." Pepper started writing. "Location?" Carol and Athena exchanged a look. "Somewhere quiet," Carol said. "Outdoors."

"Somewhere we can breathe," Athena added. Tony sighed dramatically. "You are both killing my brand." Pepper smiled. "You'll survive." Morgan chose that moment to squeal loudly, flinging her star across the floor. Carol leaned down to pick it up, then paused, looking at the tiny toy in her hand. She glanced up at Athena, something thoughtful in her eyes. "Can Morgan be involved?" Carol asked. "In some way?"

Athena's face softened instantly. "Of course." Natasha's expression warmed. "She already thinks she planned it." Tony perked up. "Flower girl." Pepper nodded. "Absolutely." Carol laughed, the sound easy and full. She reached for Athena's hand under the table, squeezing once. "Okay," she said. "I think we've got a start." Athena squeezed back. "Yeah. We do." And just like that, the future stopped feeling abstract—and started feeling planned, one gentle choice at a time.