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Later that night, the compound had settled into its familiar quiet—the kind that only came after too much emotion and not enough rest. Athena sat on the edge of her bed, boots kicked off, jacket draped over the chair. The room smelled faintly like detergent and metal and home. She was still turning the night over in her head when there was a soft knock on the doorframe. Natasha didn't wait for an answer. She never did. "You awake?" she asked, already stepping inside. Athena nodded. "Yeah." Natasha leaned against the wall, arms crossed—not defensive, just comfortable. "You okay?"

The simplicity of the question almost undid her. Athena let out a breath and rubbed her hands together. "I think so. I mean—yeah. I'm happy. Really happy." She paused, then added, quieter, "And terrified." Natasha hummed, unsurprised. "That tracks." Athena looked up at her. "Did you ever feel like this?" Natasha's mouth twitched. "Every time I cared about something enough to lose it."

Athena swallowed. "What if I mess it up?" Natasha pushed off the wall and crossed the room, sitting beside her daughter. She didn't touch her at first. She rarely did unless it mattered. "You won't do it perfectly," Natasha said. "You'll say the wrong thing. You'll get stubborn. You'll screw up." Athena winced. "Wow. Thanks." Natasha's lips curved. "Listen." She finally reached out, resting a hand over Athena's knuckles. "What matters is that you stay. You fight fair. You choose her even when it's hard." Athena nodded slowly. "I can do that."

"I know," Natasha said. "I wouldn't have said yes to helping you if I didn't." Athena blinked. "You knew I was going to ask?" Natasha smirked. "You've had that look since you started calling her 'home' instead of 'Carol.'" Athena laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're scary." "Effective," Natasha corrected. They sat in silence for a moment, the kind that didn't need filling. "I'm proud of you," Natasha said finally. Athena's throat tightened. "Yeah?"

"You built something real," Natasha continued. "And you chose someone who sees you. That's not easy." Athena leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, just for a second. Natasha allowed it. "Get some sleep," Natasha said gently. "Tomorrow the world starts asking questions." Athena smiled. "Goodnight, Mom." Natasha stood, heading for the door. She paused there, glanced back once. "Good choice," she said. Then she was gone, leaving Athena alone—but steadier than she'd been all day.