Chapter 7
You flew back up to your bedroom window, slipping into the dark room smoothly and shutting the window behind you to keep the chilly air out. However, you’d been in the room not even a moment before light flooded the space.
“You snuck out again.”
Your heart jumped to your throat as you spun around on your heel. “Shit, Wanda. Don’t scare me like that!”
“Don’t scare you? What about me? And Steve, and Nat, and Bucky, and the rest of the pack! If I’d told them that you were missing again, they would’ve had an absolute fit.”
“But you didn’t, did you?” you asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
“No. I didn’t enlighten them to your little escapade.” Her tone was sharp, clipped with concern. “What happened to your face?”
You lifted a hand to your cheek. The blood had dried now, but you didn’t imagine it looked pretty. “It’s fine.”
She gave you a disbelieving look and moved closer to you, raising a had to gently brush her thumb over the cut. You winced a little as even the gentle movement made it sting, but otherwise stayed still, allowing Wanda to do a cursory check of the rest of your body. You were in enough trouble as it was. You didn’t need to add being a little bitch to the list of things that you’ve done.
You hated to admit it, but maybe it felt kind of nice to be fussed over. You’d never really been fussed over before, not even with Bullet. When the two of you would practise fighting – especially when you first got to the streets and he taught you to use a switchblade – you’d avoid hitting each other and giving each other gashes, but every now and then the both of you had slipped. The first time being cut had been most memorable. A decent-sized gash on your forearm. You – of course – having been raised in the Red Room weren’t nearly as affected by it as Bullet expected you would have been, but even you had winced as he poured alcohol over it before insisting you continue. You hadn’t complained. After all, the Red Room had once made you fight a girl whilst suffering from a broken arm, sprained ankle, broken nose and a concussion.
“I’m cleaning it. Now. Sit.” She gestured to your bed and you sat obediently. The bubble of guilt you’d had at the beginning of your ‘escapade’ – as Wanda so accurately put it – was back. But now it was a fire, slowly growing. You shifted uncomfortably on the bed. It was clear from the witch’s tone that she was still irritated at you, despite prioritising your health over anything else. That knowledge didn’t help the guilty feeling. In fact, if anything, it amplified it. You were glad when Wanda left the room; it gave you a moment to collect your thoughts. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.
The guilt you felt was the kind of guilt that sat on your chest, making it hard to breathe. The type of guilt that stops you from being able to concentrate on the task at hand. The type of guilt that gives you that incessant throb in your heart, telling you that you should apologize for being so reckless in your decision-making. The type of guilt that makes you want to cry and wish you could’ve done better, and you think you can, next time. But you can’t. Because the dogs need you. And you’re not ready to reveal the warehouse to the alphas. Not yet.
It was the sort of guilt that slowly morphs into shame the more you think about it. And really, it’s all you can think about whilst your alone in your room, rooted to the bed for fear of disobeying another direct order. Shame. God, you hated shame. You supposed you had a few reasons to feel shameful – you’d never been a good person, and you’d never tried to convince yourself or anyone else otherwise, save for the occasional mark, of course. You weren’t a good person, you knew that. You know that there are many more people that deserve to be here more than you that you could even imagine. It made you wonder when the Avengers were going to get sick of you – because of course they’d eventually tire of you as almost every other person in your life had. It would be fair when they did, you thought, you’ve been belligerent since day one, and you imagined it would take a couple months at the least to learn to let them in. Correction to teach yourself to let them in. You wanted to let them in, to let them help you, to lean on them. But every time you tried to fall so they could catch you, your instinct conjured up a safety net out of thin air, and it just wouldn’t let you fall. It wouldn’t let them catch you.
They didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve them. You didn’t deserve Wanda’s kindness, or Natalia’s supportiveness, or Tony’s kinship – the support of another omega in a way you’d never felt it before. You didn’t deserve Steve’s – albeit often irritating – protectiveness. You didn’t deserve Bucky’s quiet companionship. You didn’t deserve Bruce’s placid reminders to eat or look after yourself – something which you could already tell he was making a habit of.
You didn’t deserve them.
Wanda re-entered the room, pulling you from the dark crevices of your mind that you’d found yourself wandering into. The bed dipped as she sat, curling her legs under her body and tilting your head towards her gently so she could see your cut. You hissed in shock as she dabbed an alcohol wipe against your injury, flinching away. Wanda tutted, placing a hand behind your head to still your movements, weaving her fingers through your hair to keep you in place.
“Hold still. This is your own fault,” she said firmly, not allowing you to pull away.
Of course, you knew that if she felt you were really uncomfortable, she’d let you go, but if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t mind the proximity. Her hand in your hair wasn’t harsh like any other alpha’s had been when they gripped your hair – presumably to drag you around by it. You could tell she was being careful to not pull too hard; to monitor your expression for any minor show of discomfort. You gave her none. She was right in what she’d said, of course, that it was your own fault. But her words only made your guilt grow. You sat as still as you could manage until the alpha pulled away, confident in the fact that she’d properly cleaned your cut.
“Come,” she said shortly. Had the guilt not been almost debilitating, you would’ve called her out for ordering you around like a dog, but right now, you felt bad enough as is.
You let Wanda lead you out of the room. She didn’t speak to you as she led you down the corridor and into what you presumed to be her room. She shut the door softly behind you, making your muscles lock up.
You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you told yourself as you felt anxiety begin to pool in your belly. Anxiety. You hated that feeling. You hated how it made you feel weak, you hated how it made you feel vulnerable. Because weakness and vulnerability got you killed. Weakness and vulnerability were what allowed someone to stab a knife in your back and twist it until you were screaming bloody murder.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” you jerked away as Wanda’s hand landed on your arm.
“I’m fine,” you muttered, stepping away from the alpha. Your gaze found the floor, unable to meet the alpha’s eyes.
“Where did you go?”
You knew what she was talking about, of course, but that doesn’t mean you wanted to talk about it. “Wanda, please. Just-“ you didn’t know why your voice was shaking. You didn’t know why your hands were trembling. You didn’t know when your breath started coming in short, sharp gasps. You didn’t know when your brain started turning foggy. You shut your eyes tightly. I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.
“Sweetheart,” Wanda sighed. You were only partially aware of her stepping towards you, but regardless you flinched away from her. “Hey, you’re alright. Focus on me. Can you do that pretty girl?” She gently grasped your hands in her own, and you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to decipher whether the touch was comforting or overwhelming.
Your inner omega shone with the praise, and you tried your hardest to focus on Wanda. You wanted to make her proud. You wanted her to praise you more. You nodded, half to yourself, half to her.
“That’s a good girl. My sweet girl,” she cooed. Part of you hated it, but the other, larger part of you loved it.
She wrapped her arms around you, surrounding you with calming pheromones. “You’re alright. It’s okay. I’m not angry at you, okay?” Those simple five words had the tension seeping out of your body, letting you melt into Wanda’s touch. She wasn’t angry at you. She wasn’t angry at you.
It was only then that you realised how easily she’d manipulated your emotions. You stiffened in her embrace and her arms loosened, allowing you to step out. Your walls were back up.
The guilt was still there. Still throbbing, still making it hard to breath, still making it hard to concentrate. You knew you needed to be punished, but you obviously couldn’t go to the other alphas – you didn’t want anyone else to know.
“Y/N, you feel guilty,” Wanda said quietly. You could tell from the way she’d leaned forwards only to suddenly tip her weight back that she wanted to move towards you, to comfort you. “A punishment will help. I promise I won’t push you to your limit. I promise.”
The sincerity in her voice was overwhelming. She was right. You needed to take your punishment. You clenched your jaw, fiddling to undo your belt. You slid it out of the loops.
“God, no, Y/N. I will not whip you!” you shrunk away from her tone a little – only a little, because that’s all you allowed yourself. She softened slightly as she noticed your movement, but stood her ground. “I’m not going to whip you,” she repeated, tone calmer now. "That's a hard limit for me." You nodded acceptingly, eyes darting everywhere but her. “Can I span-“ you shook your head violently, a strained whine slipping past your lips. “Okay, okay. No spanking. Okay.” She chewed on her lip for a moment as she thought. Then, gently, she said, “Go do a handstand against the wall.”
You licked your lips, hesitating. This sort of physical punishment had been an alternative punishment at the Red Room. But it was okay. Made you sweaty, sore and exhausted, but you knew it would help. You hoped that you hadn’t lost much muscle since then, since you’d continued training on the streets, but who knew. You flipped upside-down with your stomach to the wall and craned your neck awkwardly to look at Wanda.
“Hold that for as long as you can, love.” You almost whined at the pet name, but quickly stopped yourself, instead nodding. You could do this.
It felt like hours had passed when your arms began shaking and burning. Hold it, hold it, hold it. You couldn’t hold it. You tumbled to the ground, chest heaving and arms still shaking with exertion.
“Plank,” Wanda said not a millisecond later, voice stern.
You almost groaned at the thought of doing plank, but you didn’t want to risk sounding like you were complaining. You got into plank licking your lips and tasting sweat. You huffed out a breath, heart pounding.
You looked up as Wanda knelt in front of you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl. You beat Natasha’s record in the handstand.” Your face warmed at the praise and you looked away. You felt her run her fingers through your hair, and suddenly the soreness in your body, the shaking, was pushed to the back of your mind. You closed your eyes, leaning your head into her hand.
The guilt was going away. You could feel it. Slowly ebbing away with every second that your body shook from exertion, every moment longer that your muscles ached, every bead of sweat that dripped down your face.
Eventually you couldn’t hold it any longer. You dropped to the ground, puffing. You felt better, you felt better. Wanda slid closer, gathering you and pulling you into her lap. You didn’t mind too much. You shifted to make yourself comfortable, trying to catch your breath.
Wanda ran her fingers through your hair. “You did so well, Y/N.”
You hummed contentedly. The instructors at the Red Room had never held you like this. They’d never comforted you like this. It was nice. Warm, almost. Like there was a little bubble of light inside you, warming you from the inside out. You could tell your body was setting you up for a drop – it was usually worse at night since the suppressants were starting to wear off, not to mention after a punishment.
Eyes half-lidded, you forced yourself to sit up before you could reach the edge of the precipice that would make you need to drop. Part of you wanted to stay, to let Wanda’s praise and consistent stroking of your hair lull you into a willing drop – unlike the many stress drops you’d had forced upon you since you were young – but you couldn’t bring yourself to be that vulnerable around her. She still was, after all, little more than a stranger to you.
“I should go,” you said quietly. Wanda would have argued, had she not sensed your need to be alone.
The alpha let you leave, knowing she would achieve nothing in following you or trying to pressure you to stay. She’d noticed that the moment you pulled away was the moment you were getting close to dropping. If she was being totally honest with herself, she was slightly disappointed with herself. All her inner alpha wanted was to make you feel safe, but she couldn’t do that if you didn’t let her. She huffed. Hopefully you wouldn’t need to drop through the night.
You walked into the dining room the next morning for breakfast, and it didn’t take the pack long to notice the cut on your cheek.
“Y/N, what happened?” Bucky looked uncharacteristically concerned.
You waved a dismissive hand as you grabbed your usual apple and took a bite, sitting next to Nat. The redheaded alpha raised a hand to move your hair aside so she could have a better look at the small gash. You sighed, but sat still, your gaze meeting Wanda’s from across the table as Natalia inspected your injury. She raised an eyebrow as if to silently ask whether you were going to tell them where you’d gotten hurt.
“You snuck out again.” There was no question in Steve’s disapproving tone. You tried your best to suppress a shudder at the irritation in his voice. You couldn’t act weak. That would just encourage him to bully you. So, you channelled your nerves into aggression. Aggression was better than fear.
“I’ve already been punished for breaking the rules,” you snarled, purposely leaving Wanda’s name out of the equation. You were highly irritated by Steve’s pushiness. “Don’t try to make me feel unnecessarily guilty.”
“Who here punished you? It certainly wasn’t me. Bucky?” the man shook his head, and Steve turned to Natalia, who also shook her head. “Wanda?” the alpha across from you looked down at her lap, fiddling with her rings. She may have an alpha bearing, but she sure is a submissive alpha, you thought. Steve’s voice lowered a notch. “Wanda?”
“I did,” the witch said softly, voice betraying her nerves. She refused to meet Steve’s gaze, and her shoulders curled in some. It was moments like this that reminded you that she was the lowest ranked alpha in the hierarchy, giving her little more authority than what Bruce had as a beta.
“Leave her out of this,” you growled, feeling surprisingly protective of the woman. Maybe it was because she’d helped you last night. Maybe it was because she hadn’t told the others about your suppressants. Regardless, any action she’d ever shown you had been kind, and that sort of kindness earned her your loyalty.
Steve ignored you, twisting on his chair to fully face the alpha who sat on his right, cowering and gazing up at him nervously from under dark lashes. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and you found yourself quickly moving around the table to Wanda’s side, glaring at Steve. The scent of Steve’s anger hit you like a boulder, making you want to fold in on yourself and beg for forgiveness. You didn’t let that part of yourself come out. You couldn’t. You took a shaky breath.
You felt Wanda’s hand touch yours, interlocking your fingers with hers. You looked down at her, but she didn’t meet your gaze. It seemed she was holding your hand to try and ground herself as best she could – as if Steve’s anger was affecting her as much as it affected you. You yearned to look after her, to use your pheromones to relax her stiff posture, and to let her hold you until the anxiety rolling off her in waves dissipated. But you couldn’t. Not here. You tightened your hand around hers slightly, silently letting her know that you were there.
“Wanda,” Steve barked harshly. The younger alpha’s head snapped up, fear lighting her gaze as she shrunk away from him a little.
“Steve, that’s enough,” you snapped, stepping between him and Wanda. It was one thing for him to try and scare you, but for him to scare Wanda, someone you felt yourself beginning to care deeply about, it was a hard no.
“Y/N’s right Steve,” Natalia said calmly. “Talk about this when you’re calmer.”
Steve huffed, but listened. You’d been so focused on him that you jumped a little when Wanda suddenly stood and left the room in a hurry. You didn’t hesitate before running after her.
Natasha closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath after Wanda and Y/N left the room. In all honesty, she had half a mind to throw the knife in her very hand directly through Steve’s eye. She’d been milliseconds away from leaving her own seat to defend Wanda when Y/N had left hers to do the same. Natasha, of course, had made herself sit back and watch, mildly intrigued as to what had caused the shift in dynamics between her soulmates. She’d have to ask Wanda about that at some point. Something had clearly happened between the pair for Y/N to have become that protective of the witch. But those were questions for another time. For now, there were more pressing matters at hand.
“What the hell is wrong with you Steve?” she didn’t raise her voice, not even a notch, but the tone was like shards of ice – cold and sharp enough to draw blood. “Look, I get you being over controlling about Y/N since she’s new to the pack and we’re still working out the dynamics with her but why the fuck are you taking out your anger on Wanda?”
“Wanda lied. She-“
“No she didn’t Steve! For all we know this happened late last night and she simply hadn’t had a chance to tell us. You know that being towered over and yelled at terrifies Wanda and don’t pretend that you don’t, or that you forgot. You used that to intimidate you, and I can’t believe that you’d do something that shitty.” Her voice had risen to yelling now, unable to control her rage at the alpha. “It’s not even just mean anymore Steve, this shit is turning borderline abusive and I know you see that. So from my point of view, you have two options. Either you can grow the fuck up and apologise to the both of them for how you’ve treated them, or you can leave.” She glared him down. The latter wasn’t an option – not really, but Natasha would not stand by whilst Steve hurt both Wanda and Y/N like that. It was unacceptable.
The word ‘abusive’ had clearly gotten Steve’s attention, because for the first time, the alpha seemed to be showing true remorse. “You’re right,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologise to.” She stood up a tad more aggressively than necessary and shot him one last glare before turning around on her heel and stalking away to Wanda’s room, only pausing to call over her shoulder, “I’m sending Y/N to the cinema room and you’d better be there to apologise to her or so help me god I’ll push you of the balcony myself to see how far a supersoldier can really fall without gaining fatal injuries.”
You found the witch in her room, collapsed on the floor against her bed. Her breath cam in heaving sobs as she curled in on herself. Pieces slowly clicked together in your mind as the scent of her panic threatened to overwhelm you. You were no stranger to panic attacks, but in all honesty, you were never on the other end of one. Swallowing, you tried to determine what to do.
“Wanda?” you called gently. You were still across the room from her, but you didn’t want to startle her. As it was, her head jerked up violently. You moved closer to her slowly, focusing on producing calming pheromones.
You knelt beside her, a little taken aback when she threw her arms around you, holding you close to her as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. She was clinging to you desperately, and at first you were stiff, causing your pheromone output to falter before you forced yourself to relax. This wasn’t about you. This was about Wanda. And Wanda needed you now.
You wrapped your arms around her, just holding her, letting her hold you. Soon enough, her sobs quietened and her breathing evened, and her body relaxed. It felt good, helping her like this. Helping her like she’d helped you yesterday.
It got to a point where you knew she was fine, that you knew she didn’t need you to be there grounding her, but she said nothing. You didn’t mind all that much. You were content to stay put.
A soft knock at the door had you sitting up a little straighter as Wanda said, “Come in.”
“Hey,” Natasha said softly, closing the door behind her before moving over to sit on the ground on Wanda’s other side. The alpha leaned towards her gratefully, leaning her head on the woman’s shoulder. Natasha pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that both of you are here,” she muttered with a sweet smile.
Natasha smiled a little, “What about you, Y/N?”
You shook your head, “Yelling alphas I can deal with. I’m fine.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, “Just because you can deal with it doesn’t mean you should have to. It’s not easy for anyone to be yelled at – bearing aside. It’s okay to not be fine with it, and I understand if you don’t want to admit that – that’s fine – but just know that we’re here if you want to talk about it.” When you stayed silent, she continued. “Steve’s in the cinema room. He wants to talk to you.”
You sat up a little, brows furrowing. You didn’t really want to leave Wanda. Not yet. Just because she didn’t need you to be here, didn’t mean she didn’t want you to be here.
“Go,” the witch said quietly. “Don’t keep him waiting.” You stiffened slightly, and Wanda picked up on it almost immediately. “He won’t hurt you.” You curled in on yourself a little, tucking your head under Wanda’s chin. The alpha ran a gentle hand through your hair, teasing out any knots she came across.
“I don’t want him to yell at me,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. It was strange; being vulnerable like this, but it was easier when you weren’t the only one letting your guard down. “He’s always angry at me.”
“He just needs to get used to the idea of having another pack member,” Wanda defended gently, continuing to stroke your head. “Go talk to him. He’ll be calmer now.”
You didn’t want to go talk to Steve. Not even in the slightest. But you also didn’t want to disappoint Wanda, so you reluctantly peeled your body away from hers, immediately missing the warmth of the contact, and headed out of the room.
You made it to the cinema room far too quickly for your liking – though you’d meandered through the corridors slowly – and you opened the door to it reluctantly. The room was lit with soft lights, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Steve. The alpha was standing, leaning against the armrest of the sofa, eyes watching the screen as a movie you’d never seen before playing, the sound soft in the background.
When you closed the door behind you, Steve turned his head towards you. You eyed him warily, taking in his body language. He sure seemed a lot calmer, much like Wanda had promised. He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, and a placid expression softened his features. This, you thought, seemed to be the real Steve. Not the alpha Steve, just Steve.
That didn’t mean you trusted Steve any more than you had before, of course. After all, just because he was acting like an alpha didn’t mean you actually knew him now. If anything, you knew him even less well. At least alphas were all predictable.
“I owe you an apology. Several, actually,” he said slowly, straightening and meandering towards you. You didn’t move, watching him closely, as if he was a predator getting ready to pounce. You stayed silent, torn between not knowing what to say and wanting to make him sweat to find words to fill the tense silence. “I’ve been… a little controlling.”
You met his gaze and raised a single eyebrow. You think?
“And,” he continued, “I understand where you’re coming from, but-“
“This is sounding less and less like an apology,” you cut in sharply.
“Right, sorry,” he said, ducking his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was pushy and overprotective, and I’ll do better.”
“How?” you asked. You kept your voice steady, not letting your boundless irritation towards the man influence your tone. Though even you had to admit that you could feel the irritation slipping away, albeit slowly. Perhaps his high horse wasn’t quite as high as you’d first thought. After all, truly conceited people never apologised. They didn’t like to take blame that they could force upon others. Maybe Wanda was right. Maybe he just needed time.
“How?” the alpha echoed.
You nodded, smiling a little, “You’re a head alpha, Steve. It’s in your nature to be pushy, and dominant, and controlling, and volatile, and hypocritical, and conceited, and confrontational, and possessive, and contemptuous, and macho, and stubborn, and temperamental.” You knew your slight grin took away some of the sting of your words, and Steve chuckled.
“All my bad personality traits in one. Got anything good about me?”
You shrugged, grateful for his relaxed response to the – albeit poorly given – criticism. “I don’t know you all that well.”
“You know me well enough to know all my negative personality traits. Surely you picked up on something positive.”
You took a small step back as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re loyal,” you replied with a shrug, “And you’re dedicated. Others trust you, I suppose.” Though I’m not sure why. Your mind took you back to when you’d first set eyes on him, other than on the streets, that is. Tony had been curled up against him, purring softly as Steve played with his hair. You hadn’t thought much of it then, it wasn’t exactly an uncommon sight. But now, with perspective, you knew that Tony would trust Steve with his life. Unconditionally.
“Do you trust me?”
The question had your body stiffening, and suddenly you felt crowded. You knew logically that nothing had changed. He hadn’t moved closer, nor had the walls pushed you forwards, but your closeness began to make you feel claustrophobic. You tilted your head down to stare at the floor, turning your body slightly in a feeble attempt to feel less vulnerable, less open.
Steve’s arm caught your elbow as you tried to turn away and you almost flinched. Your muscles tensed in anticipation, but you forced your body to stay unmoving.
“That was an unfair question,” came Steve’s apologetic voice. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t react to what he said. Yes, it was an unfair question. You didn’t trust people you barely knew. Much less alphas. Much less head alphas. Much less head alphas who’d alpha commanded you against your will.
Sensing that you were still uncomfortable, the alpha stepped back, sighing softly. He turned away and grabbed a stack of papers off the sofa before sitting and motioning for you to do the same. You sat on the other side of the sofa, momentarily distracted by the cartoon playing in the background.
“We know nothing about you,” Steve started. You clenched your jaw. “No- this isn’t a quiz on your past on anything. Just… the pack decided that it was best if you filled this out. If you felt comfortable, of course.”
You raised an eyebrow, amused at the alpha’s overcompensation for his past pushiness. You took the paper he handed you. “It’s just about what you are and aren’t comfortable with. What you’re okay with going on in your presence, etcetera. It’ll make more sense when you read it.”
“Right,” you said slowly. “Is that all?”
“Yeah. Oh, and we’re watching another movie tonight if you want to join.”
You nodded, hesitantly at first as you thought about the offer, but then more certainly when you decided. “I’ll be there.”