Chapter 3
Any sign of awaken life had disappeared in the compound, according to Natasha. Therefore, she decided to head to the kitchen, walking apparently helped falling asleep, and she definitely needed some hours of rest. In a few, she would have to be in the same room as Wanda, the only person that she had difficulties staying calm with. She found it deeply frustrating to discover that her usual calculative nature seemed to be at risk because of a highly sensitive reckless – attractive – rude woman who didn't care enough to remain in time for training. It was simply disrespectful, she needed to make a lecture about it, that would be fun and probably annoy the witch. Natasha liked that idea.
The kitchen thankfully empty of human activity, she made herself some tea. As Natasha gazed at the stars, through the huge windows of the common room, footsteps startled her, and she turned around quickly, ready to throw a few punches if necessary. But it was only Wanda. Wanda, in an oversized t-shirt and a quite ridiculous pyjama bottom that seemed to have a robot pattern – probably a present from Vision, who was gaining a sense of humor. And, yet, Wanda looked good, great even. "Hi," she greeted, her voice sounding very low.
As a reply, Natasha nodded, acknowledging her presence, before walking back to the kitchen – the area Wanda was standing in. She successfully proceeded to ignore the woman, until the latter spoke again, "Can't sleep ?" Her tone sounded truly curious.
"Nightmares," Natasha shortly answered, as if articulating other words would kill her.
It was now the Sokovian's turn to nod, she wasn't surprised to hear the spy was experiencing nightmares, since what she had lived. A fragment of guilt hit her, so she voiced another question, "Can I do something to help ?"
"I think you've done enough," Natasha calmly threw out, without even taking the time to properly figure out wheither saying this remained essential. She kept occupying her hands, her tea was almost ready. Therefore, she didn't witness the hurt look on Wanda's face.
The witch deeply stared at Natasha, not missing any gestures she would execute, until the spy took the mug filled with tea in her hands. Wanda sorted that it was time to talk about their unspoken tension, "Natasha, I" she started, shortly interrumpted by the Russian. "I don't want your apologies, it won't change anything."
Wanda was slowly losing her patience, she needed to express herself, “Let me talk," she firmly began to say, "I just want to tell you that I'm sorry it happened." As she noticed the vague confusion in the spy's eyes, she elaborated a little, not meaning to go into too much detail, she didn't want Natasha to run away from her again. "I'm sorry that what I saw happened." She was surprised to not see a look of resentment, or distrust in her eyes, she could only detect an expression of relief, which she didn't exactly understand.
Natasha stayed silent for a while, pondering what she would share, and Wanda patiently waited, because she desired to hear what the redhead had to say. However, she concluded that she felt too tired for this kind of conversation, so she walked past Wanda, exitting the kitchen with a little "Good night, Wanda." It was the first time she had referred to the Sokovian with her first name, it meant something that she couldn't quite voice yet, but she hoped Wanda noticed it.
The day following the event, Wanda had assumed that Natasha would spare her a bit more ; she was wrong. The spy didn't bring up their conversation, and it slightly bothered the witch, but she understood. If Natasha didn't want to talk about it again, she would respect her wish, it was the bare minimum. After their training, Wanda rushed to the shower, and then joined the people that were awake in the kitchen. She noticed that Steve was engaged in a serious discussion with Natasha – one that was cut short as soon as he saw her.
"How was training ?" he interrogated kindly, probably feeling guilty to talk behind her back.
"Natasha is torturing me," Wanda complained, offering the woman a small smile that was strangely returned. It was surely new. She couldn't affirm that she didn't enjoy this woman's smile, especially if it was directed at her because it felt special, dangerous, but pleasing.
Steve caught a sight of their moment of little complicity, deciding it was smarter not to comment on it. "I bet she is," he replied, a grin appearing on his face. Quietness reigned in the kitchen, until Steve spoke again, with a serious tone, this time, "Wanda, we've been talking and... we think you're ready for your first mission." He had tried to be very careful with his words, and felt alleviated when Natasha nodded, displaying a sign of approvement.
"Okay," Wanda lightly replied. It would be her first mission since the Sokovia fiasco, and she felt willing to help. Lately, she had thought of it a lot, between some crying sessions and lots of naps, she wanted to feel helpful, she needed to. Sparring with Natasha, being oddly comforted by Vision, getting annoyed at Tony's snarky comments, messing around with Sam and talking about the past with Steve was fun, but it wasn't why she had come to live with the avengers. She believed her powers would be valuable, and she wasn't scared if things went wrong for her. It didn't truly matter, did it ? She wouldn't really be missed, the only people that ever loved her were dead.