Fear.
The therapist tugged down her blazer, looking at the patient. She was quiet today, simply staring. Not outside, not at a wall, or something in the room, no she was staring ahead at the doctor. Like she was waiting, the older woman tried not to let her brows crease, as she straightened her posture, shifting a little in her seat.
The therapist leaned back, crossing her legs, "What do you want?"
At first, Wanda shrugged her shoulders, wetting her lips, unable to say or know what she truly wanted. All she ever wanted was honestly too much to ask for. She lets out a tired breath while wiping down the side of her face, "I want a lot of things," the brunette admitted, before swallowing, "I want calmness... happiness."
The therapist couldn't help but narrow her eyes, as she hummed. "And you can get that, get to it."
Wanda clenched her jaw, turning her eyes, finally looking away from the doctor, her fingers curling against the cushions of the couch.
"No, no, I can't. because there isn't a part of me that doesn't think about it, that isn't tortured by my past. I can't live with this constant pain, I— I..." She interrupted herself, shaking her head.
The therapist's brows rose at the last part, "You can't live?"
Instantly Wanda's eyes hardened, and soon she was glaring at the therapist. "I didn't mean it like that." She spat, the corner of her lips twitching as she did. Although, The doctor knew she didn't, she wondered, did Wanda?
Wanda was irritated at the doctor, herself? Or simply everything. She's irritated at the truth, something she thinks she's not ready to hear, or just doesn't understand.
The therapist sighed, pulling off her glasses, while lifting her head, "I know, Maximoff, but... your past is what defines you. You despise it, but without it, you wouldn't be the you that is today. You thrive off of what if's, you could've's." She looked the ginger in the eyes, as she spoke, making sure she had the attention she wanted, "As long as I've known you, I never once hear you say, I know, or, I had to, it's always, I should've done this but I..."
The therapist shook her head, firmly, "You never accepted your past, which means you never accepted yourself."
"You can't get rid of fear, it's an emotion you need to survive. No matter how much you want it gone, it will never disappear."
Wanda's nails dug into the couch, not wanting to touch any part of her body, she knew she'd start scratching and that would lead to bleeding, and she just didn't want to deal with that. She closed her eyes, bobbing her head, slightly.
"And your past..." The therapist begins, Wanda lets out a shaky breath.
"you're letting it hold you back, letting it torment you. I'm not telling you to forgive them, but I'm saying until you accept them, you won't be calm, and you won't be happy," She had told her, with so much honesty that it hurt.
"Wanda..."
The ginger opened her eyes, to be met with ones filled with concern.
"The longer you take, you'll just be hurting yourself."
•
She smiled, opening her eyes.
Her fingers reached out, pulling her hat from the top of Billy's head, just to go underneath and ruffle his hair. He raised his head, a smile erupting on his cheeks. His happiness warmed her heart.
Tommy's shoulder knocked against her hip, as he rushed past her. She shook her head, as tiny footprints of mud followed behind him.
"Please, take off your shoes, I just mopped!" A voice shouted from the other room.
Collectively their eyes widened, and Tommy turned towards his mother. She could practically see the panic rising within him. "Don't worry, I got you."
Tommy looked up, his brows raising. Wanda squeezed his shoulder, "Take off your shoes."
They both nodded their heads, before crouching to the ground, quickly pulling off their sneakers. Billy reached down, grabbing Tommy's shoes, and rushing to place them on the carpet beside the door.
As the sound of footsteps came closer, the boys turned towards the direction, straightening their backs, trying to look less suspicious than they already did. Wanda had barely stopped the smile from creeping on her lips, it was also hard not to laugh, and awe at their hilarious and adorable faces.
Almost immediately Natasha's eyes went downwards, looking at the four sets of footprints. Her shoulders slumped, "Tommy, Billy..."
"Mom did it!" They shouted before Natasha could finish it, surprising both of their parents. Although Wanda saw this coming, she was shocked by their outburst and quickness of throwing her under the bus.
Natasha sighed at the blatant lie, "Boys..."
The twins lowered their heads, and Wanda didn't even give them to chance to start flashing their puppy dog eyes, as she cleared her throat, gaining her wife's attention.
"They're telling the truth, it's mine," Wanda said, Natasha's brows furrowed, while frowning. And seeing that their mother's focus shifted to their other's, the children snuck away towards the kitchen.
Natasha crossed her arms, "You don't have to lie for them."
Wanda shook her head.
"I'm not, they're mine. You took too long to say it, I was already putting my muddy shoes on the clean floor," Wanda said, casually. Natasha tilted her head, squinting her eyes, "I didn't know you were a size six in children."
Wanda pointed behind herself, furrowing her brows, "Have you ever watched Opposite Day? we just did that—," Natasha interrupted her by pinching her side, causing the brunette to smile, as she jerked back slightly.
"I know the dirt drives you crazy, I'm sorry," Wanda apologized, kindly. Natasha shook her head, soft curls falling in front of her face. Wanda walked forward, wrapping her arms around the blonde's shoulder.
She closed her eyes, pressing her lips against her wife's head, leaving a tender kiss.
"You're not sorry." Her voice suddenly came to her ears. Wanda's brows furrowed because Natasha said it much differently than before. It wasn't playful, nor have any lightness to her tone, it just sounded dry, and detached. It confused Wanda.
The brunette frowned, deeply, pulling back from the embrace. "you never are." What?
Wanda grabbed her face, cradling it, carefully, between her fingers, to see the forest green eyes, she loved so much. Only to find dead eyes, a void, that seemed so empty and endless, trying to swallow her alive in the darkness the more she looked in.
Wanda shook her head while squeezing her eyes shut.
"Nat?" Wanda breathed, her hands began to fall when the blonde's fingers snapped up to her wrists.
"You can't always lie to me, Wanda." The brunette opened her mouth, looking into the eyes, that would fill her soul with warmth, but now just leaves her so cold. She shivered, her fingers itching to pull away, to run.
"Mommy!"
Her head snapped back towards her son's distraught voice. She couldn't tell whose, Billy's, Tommy's, or both. Their voices seemed to overlap another's, echoing in her mind. She frowned, then suddenly her feet weren't touching a hard wooden ground, or suck between a suffocating feeling of a shoe, but instead, they were bare, on the freezing marble floor of her kitchen.
She pulled her lips downwards.
"Mommy!"
Her head moved to the side again, but they weren't there. A hollow figure stood, where they were supposed to be.
"Mommy!" He, they, screamed in her mind, roaring with fear, it caused her muscles to tense.
"Wanda!"
Her head snapped in the direction, front, back, side? She looked and searched for her wife, her sons, and the voices, but they just echoed in the air.
"Where are you?" She tried to say, tried to yell, but it was just muffled in her ears, muted to the world. She opened her mouth, a scream bubbling in her throat, begging to release, to be free, but nothing, absolutely nothing came out.
Tears filled her eyes.
"Wanda?"
She didn't even move, simply blinked, and there they were, standing in front of her, looking so much like themselves, but they weren't. Something was missing, it looked wrong. Their eyes filled with darkness, their face, and skin, paler than ice. They stood, watching her like robots.
"Wanda?"
Her head snapped to the side, expecting to be a friend, a family, a foe. Not a barrel of a gun.
It was a man? No, a woman, standing before her, with a gelid barrel of a gun pressed against her temple. She didn't shake, nor she did run, she stood, stiffly, with silence.
It was quiet, not a word spoken from her, not from the predator, or her children, they didn't scream, and her wife didn't cry.
The figure in front of her, tilted their head, their face was dark, a blurry shadow covering it, taunting her as the vision came in and out of her focus, tormenting her with the unknown. She couldn't see them, she couldn't tell, but she could feel their nefarious smile, on her skin.
In the blink of an eye, the barrel snapped away from her, and a scream broke the silence as a bang echoed across the room. Her screams, watching her wife's blood seep out from her head.
The person didn't even allow her the chance to comprehend the loss before firing another bullet.
Her eyes widened, as a raw cry bolted from her lips, she could feel them? his? her happiness, mixing with her fear, sadness, and pain.
"Please, no." She begged, pleaded, towards someone, anyone who would listen.
She couldn't move, her body twisted and fought against the invisible force holding her back, stopping her from protecting, no, saving her son.
Suddenly the gun was in her hands, her finger pressing down on the trigger.
"No!"
Her body shot up, and her fingers slammed against her lips, stopping herself mid-scream. Her skin was moist, soaked with sweat, and her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest. As she tried to control her breathing, tried to connect with the presence, tried to remember—
Her wide eyes snapped to the side, and in panic, she searched for Natasha through the darkness. She tried to remember her family, her wife, children, living and breathing.
She leaned back against the headboard and moved her hand down to her rapidly beating heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply through her nostrils. She's fine, it's not real.
Wanda opened her eyes, swallowing.
This wasn't the first nightmare she had, but it was the strangest.
Instead of the usual masculine figure, it was a feminine one. Her brows furrowed, as she tried to remember their face, or even the simplest thing, like their hair length or color. She shook her head, the sheets falling off of her legs, as she turned her body to the edge of the bed, nothing but an unclear figure came into her mind, one that was too far away to understand.
She sends her wife a final glance, for a moment watching as her chest rises and falls, before pushing herself off of the mattress. She was parched, her dryness leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.
She stood up and began to exit her room, deciding to make her way toward the kitchen.
She was hoping the silence or the walk would ease her racing mind, but it didn't, sadly it made it worse.
The silence gave her time to think, to reimagine the nightmare worse than it already was. Creating new people, new monsters.
She swallowed, opening her fridge door. Her brows furrowed, as the light bulb flashed in her face. The brightness wakes her up, slightly, she bends down, sliding open the compartment of water bottles. She grabbed the coldest one, with ice flakes in it.
She stood up, sliding both the doors closed with her foot. She sighed, shaking her head, as she twisted off her top.
She tilted the bottle towards her lips, and a satisfying hum vibrated through her chest, as the cold liquid slid down her throat. She swallowed, pulling the drink away from her mouth.
With a sigh, she sat down at the dining room table, allowing herself to be lost in her mind once again.
Fear is starving.
It feeds on the hopeless and distraught mind, eating their sanity, until the prey is quivering, and crying, begging for mercy.
Fear is greedy.
Its hunger is never satisfied. It picks apart every unstable piece of their victim's soul, even when they're broken down on their knees, begging for an unsettling kind of peace, fear doesn't stop.
No, fear would look them in the eyes, and smile, baring their teeth, spit dripping from their mouth, as they stared down at them, like starving wolves, that hadn't eaten a meal in months.
The action reflects down on the beast, that oncestill stared down at her. A beast that ripped away her soul, bruised her skin, and left her hungry for the sanity they stole.
"Mom?"
Her head snapped upwards, and towards the sound, to see her bed hair boy standing in front of her, rubbing his eye with his fist, reminding her of when he was a toddler.
"Hey, buddy?" She whispered-asked. Both in surprise and confusion.
The kid approached, silently, she watched, as he unnecessarily dragged his feet. She grinned, slightly, when the body stopped moving beside her seat. He leaned against her forearm, leisurely.
Wanda leaned forward and kissed the side of his temple. His arms wrapped around her neck, and as he pulled himself onto her lap, Wanda chuckled.
"Don't you think you're a little too old for this?"
He shrugged his shoulders, his head falling back to lay against her shoulder, she smiled, softly. "Can't sleep, huh?"
His head bobbed against her chin. She let out a breath, then moved her hand towards his lower back, "Are the nightmares starting up again?" He closed his eyes, shaking his head.
She softly caressed his back. He's embarrassed by them. He told her in one of his letters, that he thought only babies had nightmares. He was so angry that he was unable to grow out of it. Her brows furrowed, she doesn't know who put that idea inside of his mind, but she desperately wishes to get it out of there.
"Well, Mommy had one."
His brows furrowed, at the admission.
"It was of you, mama, and Billy, there was... you all were hurt badly, and I couldn't save you, I was helpless," She admitted, lowering her head, her chin touching Tommy's shoulder. An inevitable feeling of anxiety rises inside of her, her fingers rub the fabric of her son's shirt, trying and failing to offer herself a sense of comfort. She felt her son's head tilt, his lips pressing against her cheek, a gesture which warms her heart, she smiled, as Tommy laid his head down on her shoulder.
"Dreams aren't real, so they can't hurt you."
They felt real, their touches, their screams, her begging. Everything looked too real, like a page in a storybook, that was ripped out or read too soon. They all talked like themselves and looked like them.
Often dreams were twisted movies, where everything changes too quickly to understand, but she saw this one, constantly, the only difference was the aggressor.
She nodded her head, her grasp around him, tightening. A soft breeze touches her neck, she closes her eyes, one up, one down.
"Billy had a nightmare..."
Her brows furrowed, "he did?" She spoke, softly.
He hummed, nodding his head, "he had made me come with him to sleep in your room, but you weren't there."
Wanda nodded, tightening her hold around him.
For a while, they sat together, enjoying the silence, and the comfort of each other's embrace. Before Wanda decided to get up, remembering that the boy had school the next day. She doesn't want him to be grumpy in the morning.
As they walked down the hall to her room, Tommy's fingers tightened around hers, his body pressing against her thigh. She reached out her other hand, ruffling his hair, slightly. She doesn't know if he was scared, or just wanted to be closer to her.
She opens the door to her bedroom, and Tommy leaves her side, and stands by her desk. She looked at the bed, squinting her eyes in the darkness. She saw two figures huddled together, her eyes going down to smaller one.
Wanda leaned down, pressing her lips against the side of Billy's head. Wanda smiled, softly, as the boy muttered nonsense, before pushing himself further into his mother's embrace.
"Come on, bud."
She patted the sheet, and Tommy climbed onto the bed, settling in the middle beside Billy, he turned his body, so his head rested against Wanda.
It didn't take long for her boy to fall asleep. After a moment of listening, the sound of their breathing and snores, offers her a sense of comfort, allowing her to fall into slumber as well.
Hours felt like minutes because as soon as she closed her eyes, a bright light had forced them back open. She groaned, squeezing them back shut. She tugged her hand from underneath her pillow, moving it to wipe her crisp eyelids.
"Sorry."
Natasha's voice broke through the quietness of the morning. Wanda grumbled, "Why are you up?"
"It's 10:30, Wanda." She could feel the eye roll, the brunette smirked.
She goes to open her mouth, but a nudge to her chin, causes her eyes to snap open, as well as her brows to furrow. She glanced down to see a tan foot resting against her chest. Wanda blinked, slowly, her children were like monkeys, she didn't know how or when they rotated their bodies from their tight embraces. Wanda chuckled, softly, "I never knew how much I missed waking up near a foot."
She glanced up, as Natasha nodded, briefly, before sighing, "Yeah, I think Tommy's nightmares are starting up again."
Wanda's brows furrowed, "Tommy's? He said Billy had a nightmare."
Natasha sighed, shaking her head. Wanda frowned, as the blonde moved down to their children. Gently brushing one of their heads, "Time for school, krasivyy."
It didn't take much to wake up Tommy, just a nudge to the arm, and the boy was opening his eyes, but Billy was a different story.
"you're going to be a little late, okay?" While Tommy nodded, Billy grunted, complete nonsense, while forcing himself upwards.
She turned to Tommy, who was surprisingly energetic for someone who was up to something in the morning. The eldest flipped his body around, so he was lying beside Wanda, who smiled, softly.
"Good morning, mom."
She wanted to wonder why he didn't tell her, why did he lie? She wanted to pretend like she didn't know. His head pressed against her shoulder, his face burying into the croak of her neck.
She knows, and she despises it, and wants this pain, fear, and embarrassment to be gone. Wanda pressed her lips against his head, speaking into his hair, as she greeted, "Morning, Tommy."
•
Battlefield in Sokovia,
August, 2016.
The ground shook, the heat of the war around her burning her skin. Wanda's hands stacked over each other. She pressed them against the wound, blood leaking through her fingers, Victor winced.
She searched around, frantically, for anyone, a medic, a soldier? She doesn't care, she just desperately needs help. She knows she couldn't move his body without harming him, at least not on her own.
Her jaw clenched as she turned back to Victor. His skin was deadly pale, his ragged breathing. He couldn't hold on, he didn't want to, but he was doing it for her.
She sat there, impotently, until a figure with familiar platinum hair rushed past her. Wanda's eyes widened. "Pi! Pietro!" She called out, the soldier's head turned towards hers, and his brows rose, in recognition.
The marine ran to her, and slid, falling on the grass beside her, his hand reaching out to grasp the side of Victor's leg. Pietro's brows furrowed, as he glanced between her and the bleeding soldier.
"Wanda? What the hell are you doing?"
The brunette shook her head while freeing her hands. She grabbed Pietro's, placing them where hers was supposed to be, his brows furrowed, but he immediately pressed down.
Wanda forced herself upward. Her hand reached out, stealing the military gun from his lap. His head snapped up towards her, in surprise.
"Stay," She commanded.
His eyes widened, and immediately he shook his head, "Wanda, are you crazy?! I'm not—"
"I need to clear the path, Pietro, I... I can't just leave him alone." Pietro frowned, glancing towards Victor's helpless body. He bites his lip, concerned. Wanda sighed, "I'll come back, I promise."
He opens his mouth to argue, but she sends him the most pleading look, that stops him. He growled, pressing his lips together. "No marks." These are the only words he said, with determination, and most of all trust, in his eyes.
She clenched her jaw, "no wounds."
He sighed, nodding his head, giving her the permission, she didn't know she needed. Wanda turned around, rushing towards the war ahead of them.
She walked into the building, both Victor and her was hiding behind. The smell of flesh and dust entered her nostrils, she shook her head. She felt tiny bits of grit and concrete falling against her skin, as she walked into the area. Immediately two enemy soldiers spotted her.
Collectively the three soldiers began to raise their guns, ready to fire.
Then an explosion came, rocking the building. Wanda fell against the wall, as it knocked one of them down, and distracted the other. Wanda took the chance, raising her gun, firing two shots into the soldier still standing.
As the enemy fell to the ground, she aimed and fired at the other soldier.
Wanda goes to shoot him one more time when her gun jammed. Her brows furrowed, clicking her finger against the trigger twice, but no bullets flew out.
"Shit."
she cursed at the empty rifle.
However, her mind didn't stay on it for too long, as her head snapped up at the sound of voices approaching. She jerked back to the side of the wall, hiding in a dark corner.
"ti lijevo, ja naprijed."
you left, I go front.
A soldier barked out, in command. Wanda's jaw clenched, as she pressed herself against the wall. Her fingers tightened around her gun, as a soldier walked into her vision, holding their weapon high, scanning around.
Their, his, body inches away from her own, as he moved further into the area. Wanda patiently waited for the right moment to attack, and it didn't take long to find.
She jumped forward, lifting the rifle above his head, before moving it down, and pressing the forearm of the gun against the cartilage of the enemy's throat.
Her force deepens, the more he struggles. The screams of foes and soldiers roared around in pain and anger. Her jaw clenched, the tension, worry, and fear, rising in her until it snapped. The body sagged, dropping lifelessly against hers.
She grunted, pushing off the dead weight.
She rolled his body, pushing him off of his gun, she steals the assault rifle from his fingers. She moved, patting down his body, quickly finding a knife in a holder beside his leg, and a pistol.
She tucked the pistol into the back of her pants, before using the barrel of the rifle to pull herself up. The sound of footsteps, causes her to duck away once again.
She pressed her head against the wall, listening closely. It sounded like three or four steps coming in her direction.
She grimaced, and in one hand, she lifted her gun in the air, while holding the knife tightly in the other.
She jumped out, slamming her knife into the first soldier's head, killing him instantly, before slapping her, recently freed, hand against the side of the rifle, correcting her aim, as she began firing. She headshot one of the soldiers, and shoots another twice in the chest.
The last one begins rapidly firing, she grabbed one of their fellow dead soldiers, pulling them in front of herself, as a shield.
Her head peeked out, her gun firing, shooting them four times, twice in the face, and the other two in the neck.
Silence, or what's close to it, elevated into the room, as well as Wanda's ragged breathing. The brunette dropped the rifle on the ground, then reached out behind herself, grabbing the pistol.
She hits the lower base of the palm against the bottom of the grip, and immediately the magazine slips out. She flipped her hand, grabbed it, and slid the mag completely out. She glanced into the clip, to see it was half-loaded, and good enough for the rest of the walkthrough, at least until she found another gun.
She walked through the room, making sure to not step on the bodies.
Wanda's fingers on the grip tightened, as gun firing echoed through the building. She readied herself for an attacker, as she walked further down the hall.
The sound of grunting and footsteps hit her ears. She swallowed, as they got closer. She placed her index on the trigger, raising her gun high, ready to fire.
When the steps sounded inches away from her, she quickly shot out from around the corner. Pressing back against the wall, her gun out pointing to the soldier, but she didn't fire. As her eyes began to recognize the familiar face.
It was Agatha, with dirt covering her face, and her blood leaking from the side of her head. Wanda's muscles eased, briefly.
Harkness cursed, both in surprise and relief. Wanda lowered her gun, slightly.
Her eyes began scanning around the room, towards the holes in the wall, many bodies on the ground, most of them being her fellow soldiers, and others the enemies.
"You good, Maximoff?"
Wanda's head snapped up, to see Agatha looking at her with concern, brows furrowing. Wanda wetted her lips, "Yeah, I'm fine."
The marine narrowed her eyes, before shrugging it off, for the moment. "Everything is clear here, you?"
Wanda swallowed, nodding her head. Before sending a worried glance behind herself, "We need to go, a soldier's down."
Agatha bobbed her head once, before pointing her gun down the hallway, "alright, let's go."
Wanda hummed, before beginning to walk, carefully stepping over the soldiers, both theirs and hers. Wanda looked down, watching their feet moving. Wanda, gently, kicked Agatha's leg, right before it could land on one of the bodies, causing the raven to slightly stumble back, with a frown.
"Hey!" She whispered-exclaimed, swatting the marine's arm, before gripping it to stabilize herself.
"Respect the dead," Wanda told her, and Agatha rolled her eyes.
"Maximoff, you can't be..."
Wanda shook her head, cutting her off, "Just because they're the enemy doesn't mean they don't deserve courtesy, Harkness."
She opened her mouth to say anything, readying up a snarky reply. Wanda glared at her, and Agatha ended it up, deciding against it, snapping her mouth shut.
Wanda shook her head, "Come on."
Without another word, Agatha nodded, jogging behind the marine, as she walked away.
The walk was silent, their guns were held up, ready for any surprise attackers.
It didn't take long for them to make it outside. She walked around the corner, searching for them. She sees two figures pressed against a wall, in the same spot she left them.
"Pi!"
Instantly her twin's head snapped up in her direction. Wanda smiled, in relief, "I got..." She trailed off, as Pietro shook his head.
She frowned.
"I'm sorry, Wanda," He croaked out, no. Pietro's eyes filled with tears, as he held Victor's body closer to himself. Wanda couldn't stop her lips from wobbling, as she looked towards her friend, her partner, her brother's lifeless body.
she was too late.
•
She spent half of her day alone. Her children, wife, and friends, being at work or school, and Agatha being god knows where. Wanda went to reminisce.
Visiting the places from her younger years.
A duck pond, beside an art museum, both she remembers taking the twins during their toddler years. Tommy kept on eating specks of dirt and slices of bread, forgetting that he was supposed to throw the loaves to the ducks. Billy was afraid of the ducks, he practically was glued to Natasha's side. Natasha had left his side for a millisecond, she remembered him running around the park like a crazy person when a duckling approached them.
When they went to the art museum, they were around 3 years old, only going to see the artist under the name of PDM. They weren't crying or eating dirt, (still, somehow Tommy found something to put in his mouth) they were quite judgy though. They seemed to hate all of the paintings, it was rude but honestly hilarious. It was the funniest thing on earth, seeing the boys' pouty faces, and attempts at looking disgusting, scrunching up their noses, and trying to frown. They never spoke, but their eyes gave it all away.
PDM was the only one they loved, and she knew PDM was happy about that.
She wouldn't change a single thing about that day, or any day that was insane for them. She loved it, and all their craziness. They were all fun stories to embarrass them about when they're older.
Well, after visiting the park and doing other random things, she had decided to come home, and cook, which ended with them, having Burgers King for dinner.
Now it was around 8 pm, Natasha was taking a shower, and the boys were in their separate rooms, getting ready for bed.
At least that's what she thought, but quickly she figured out that it wasn't. As she entered Tommy's room to find them both huddled together, talking in what they believed were whispers.
Wanda's brows furrowed, "boys?" She called out, softly, gaining their attention.
Both of them had wide eyes, filled with something she had never wanted to see in them, seemed like they were scared. She frowned, concern boiling in the pits of her stomach. She walked further into the room, closing the door, "What's wrong, boys?"
Silently at first the twins looked at each other, fear and worry plastered across both of their faces. It felt like they were talking with their eyes. Suddenly, Tommy began to shake his head, "No, Billy!"
Billy's shoulders slumped, "Come on, Tommy!"
"I can't!"
"Mom will protect you, Tommy! She always does!" Billy said, Wanda looked between the pair with confusion, she wasn't going to lie, a small hidden amusement in her eyes.
Wanda frowns, her brows raising, do they still believe there's monsters underneath their bed?
Wanda nodded, softly, "Billy is right, Tommy, I can protect you no matter what it is." Not wanting to make Tommy feel uncomfortable, she keep her hands glued to her sides, no matter how much she wanted to touch him.
Tommy glances over at Billy, before looking back at her, swallowing, "I see him."
Wanda's brows furrowed, "See who?"
He cleared his throat, shifting, nervously, "The bad guy, I see him," He continued, deepening Wanda's confusion.
"What bad guy?" Wanda asked.
He lowered his head, swallowing, "The one who hurt you."
Whatever thoughts or feelings she had before drastically disappeared. Wanda's eyes widened, "Tommy... what are you talking about?"
Tommy didn't say anything.
"He sees him! the man is tall and gray! H-he has a crook on his nose!" Billy exclaimed, every muscle in Wanda's body froze. Tommy pushed him against the bed, his face red.
"Shut up, Billy!"
Billy opened his mouth to argue back, Wanda shook her head, grabbing Tommy's arm. She pulled him away from his brother, as his glassy eyes connected with her wide fearful ones. "Where do you see the bad guy?"
Tommy clenched his jaw, shaking his head. She could see the tears forming in his eyes, which she desperately tried to ignore. "I can't protect you if I don't know," Wanda admitted, firmly, attempting and successfully raising the fear in her son's body.
Tommy bolted forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, his body shaking against hers. She swallowed, clenching her fists at her sides, trying to keep her body steady for his sake.
"He only comes at night."
Her brows creased, as she looked down, Tommy buried his face further into her stomach. Every shake, every cry, coursed through her body like a wound.
"Has he been here? Did he come last night?" Wanda asked, her heart pounding in her chest, causing a burning feeling to rise.
Tommy shook his head, "Never when you're here..."
He closed his eyes, as he breathed out, shakily. Hesitantly her fingers reached up, brushing against his neck, and the boy's grip tightened around her waist, "he's scared of you."
•
Wanda closed her eyes, her wrists burning against the chains, that held her above the ground. A scorching slap against her skin, caused her eyes to snap open, with tears, blurring her sight.
She screamed, in agony. Biting down on her tongue, until a bitter metallic taste, elevated in her mouth.
"you deserve this, traitor."
He shouted.
Her wide eyes looked at him, past the beast that tortured her, instead of the cold blue, it was hazel eyes staring into hers, ones that she filled with anger once before.
He punched in her stomach, with all his might. She felt her ribs cracking, she struggled to breathe. The sound of someone clapping hits her ears, as she tried not to cry, tried to endure the beating, the pain.
"Come on, you can do worse than that, right?" The beast asked, hazel growled, as Wanda stopped a sob from reaching her lips. "She can take it."
She shook her head, rapidly, causing the crooked man to laugh.
The enemy glared, before sending a final blow that made her vision go dark.
•
She took them to her bedroom and watched as they crawled into the bed, and cuddled up against their mother before leaving.
The brunette was downstairs, one hand scrolling
on her laptop, the other running through her hair, as fear and disbelief went through her head.
She calls Agatha and gets her to put a security team around her house. She buys more cameras, and makes sure every corner of her house is watched and protected.
"What are you doing?"
The computer was shut immediately, causing the doctor to frown. Wanda cleared her throat, turning to her wife, who stared at her with furrowed brows.
She smiled, slightly, "Nothing important I was just researching some things," Wanda stated, accidentally knocking into the redhead, as she abruptly stood, brushing her fingers through her hair. Natasha slowly nodded her head, with a look on her face that was a mix of confusion and concern.
Natasha chuckled, "You're acting like I just caught you watching porn." Wanda's nose scrunched, as she shook her head, causing her wife to smile.
Wanda frowned, brushing her fingers through her hair, "why aren't you with the boys?"
Natasha narrowed her eyes, "Why aren't you in bed?"
Wanda wetted her lips, contemplating. She knows she couldn't tell Natasha. Not yet at least, not when she doesn't know what to tell.
"I... I'm just…," Wanda trailed off, shaking her head. All the playfulness left Natasha's, replaced with concern. "Is everything okay?"
Wanda placed her hands on her forearms, her thumbs caressing against her muscles. Feeling them relax, helped Wanda more than anything. The brunette sighed, "I'm fine, I just... trying to work on something that got me sleep deprived," She told her, before jokingly, saying, "You know, I can get jumpy and weird when I'm sleepy."
The blonde nodded, silently.
Wanda smiled, tightly, "I'm fine, okay? I will be up there in a few, I promise."
Natasha narrowed her eyes, and Wanda wondered if she could see through her. Through her lies, through this person, she's trying to be.
"Okay..." then without another word, Natasha leaves Wanda alone. She doesn't even look back as she walks. Her footsteps were slow like she was considering turning around, and asking more questions. Wanda was grateful, that her wife's end decision was to simply leave her alone.
The brunette lets out a breath. Her eyes glanced towards her laptop. She shook her head, pulling it open.
She spent the next minutes, hours, searching for something on him, but nothing came up. Wanda knows she couldn't get anything with a letter and crooked nose anywhere, but she still tried.
She was helpless.
She bit her tongue, but she knew someone who wasn't. She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.
The brunette tapped her foot, rapidly, against the wooden floor, her teeth digging deeper into the skin of her lips. Wanda stood at her kitchen counter, with her phone ringing in her hand, she waited, anxiously.
They answered on the second ring.
"You better not be calling me on some bullshit," The user spoke, immediately, rumbling echoed through their end, but Wanda just stayed quiet, her heart pounding in her chest, causing them to sigh, "you married her, Maximoff, she's your problem now."
Wanda didn't laugh, or respond like she usually does. Sound from the other line stopped for a moment. The quietness beginning to echo her own.
"Wanda?" The voice hesitantly croaked out.
The brunette shook her head, swallowing a lump that was forming in her throat.
"I need your help."