Alone
Wanda did not have high expectations going into the Compound. She knew the others probably hated her- and she deserved it. After all, she had gone into their heads- she had hurt them, mentally and physically. They were kind enough to let her stay at the Compound, and that was enough.
Her room was nice, all things considered. There was a mini-fridge with various snacks, a bathroom, and a bed. That was all Wanda needed. The bow and arrow man- Clint, that was his name-dropped her off as soon as they got back from the battle against Ultron. She hadn't left the room since then- she had barely moved. Wanda hadn't even bothered to change out of her blood-stained jacket, and she was curled up on the bed, knees up to her chest.
Occasionally a tear would roll down her face, or she would wince at a hunger pang. Still, she didn't make any effort to move or get food. What was the point?
~~~
"For the last time, she's one of us now!" Clint's exasperated voice ran out. The Avengers were all gathered in the kitchen, and the air was thick with tension. They were discussing Wanda's future at the Compound, and practically all of them besides Clint were reluctant.
Tony was by far the most adamant. "Yeah? Under whose orders?" The man was still furious at Wanda over Ultron, even though it was his fault as much as it was hers. However, he didn't want to admit that. "Yours?" He let out a disbelieving snort. "In case you've forgotten, old man, I'm the one who's paying for all this," he said, gesturing at their surroundings. "You're just a guy with a bow and arrow."
Clint's eyes flashed angrily and he clenched his fists. He was more than that, and they all knew it. Tony was just being an asshole. "Tony," he began, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Wanda made a mistake, yes. But she was doing what she thought was right, and let's be honest, most of us have done worse."
There were a few moments of silence. They all considered his words, Natasha especially. She had... mixed feelings about Wanda, to say the least. Sure, she recognized that she was just a misguided kid at heart, but the visions she had brought to the surface... those were things she had tried for years to forget. But she didn't say anything, because she knew that blaming Wanda would just be hypocritical.
"Everyone, we should just calm down and talk about things logically." Of course, it was ever-mature Steve Rogers who said that in an effort to ease the tension. "Wanda did not intend to hurt anyone, perhaps, but she did. That's simply a fact. Maybe, we should keep her here, but only as a form of protection from herself... and the public." He let out a sigh. "She's dangerous, no way to sugarcoat it."
Clint looked at Steve incredulously. Natasha, for her part, started feeling a bit guilty. Maybe they were being a bit hard on her. Sam cleared his throat. "I, uh, agree with Cap." Clint scoffed.
"Of course you do," he responded with a glare. Turning to Natasha, he gave her a pleading look. "Come on Nat, if anyone sees the ridiculousness of this it's you." Natasha closed her eyes for a moment- she knew exactly what he was referring to. How she herself had been on the wrong side of justice, and how he had shown her the light, so to speak.
Making up her mind, she stood up. "I agree with Clint. She's willing to help us now, and with a bit of training, she can be a valuable asset to our team." Tony whipped around to face her.
Twirling a pen around with his fingers, he met her gaze. "No surprise that you agree with Barton, you were always two peas from the same ex-assassin pod." Natasha opened her mouth to object, but he didn't stop. "And you and Maximoff have a lot in common- 2 Russian weapons with an ungodly body count." Her eyes grew wide, and she took a step back. That was one of the only things she was sensitive about, and he knew that.
Before either her or Clint could respond, Steve spoke again. "Look, Nat. I know it seems like we're being harsh, but we're just being careful," he said gently. "Remember, Wanda caused Ultron. She destroyed Sokovia." At this point, Natasha was getting pissed off. Tony was the one who had built Ultron.
Deciding to voice her thoughts, Natasha steeled her gaze. "No, it's your fault just as much as it is hers," she stated. That seemed to trigger something in Tony, and he slammed his fist on the table, making everyone jump.
"My fault?" His voice cracked with emotion. "Wow. Everything's my fault, huh?" He laughed bitterly and shook his head. "I was the one who built this team, this family, and I don't want that monster in it." He was clearly referring to Wanda. "That thing doesn't deserve to live, much less be an Avenger."
A silence fell over the room- he had gone too far. Natasha was the first one to speak. "I'm going to go talk to Wanda," she said, her tone clipped. Not bothering to look back, she left the room, making her way towards Wanda's quarters.
Little did she know, Wanda was there. Listening to the whole conversation.
She had gone downstairs, the thirst having gotten to her. As soon as she heard voices, she was going to leave, but it was like she was frozen in place. She was forced to listen as they argued, yelled- because of her. It was clear none of them liked her. The man named Clint and the woman... what was her name? Natasha? They seemed to be on her side, but she didn't believe that they actually cared about her. They probably just wanted to use her as a weapon; wanted to take advantage of her powers.
And then she heard Stark say it.
That thing doesn't deserve to live.
Her heart started to pound faster, and she let out a small sob. Of course, she knew they hated her, but having him say it out loud... that hurt her more than she thought it would. Knowing what she had to do, Wanda turned around, running as fast as she could to her room. She took the one thing she had brought- a picture of her family that the Avengers had recovered from the HYDRA base. Clutching it close to her heart, she left. No note, no anything. If someone walked into the room right now, there would be no sign of her ever being there.
She slipped out of the building, immediately noticing the cold air outside. The leather jacket wasn't enough to protect her from all the brisk wind and temperature, so she simply hugged herself for warmth. Without a particular destination in mind, Wanda walked. She walked until her feet ached like crazy, and she was forced to rest.
Settling down on the ground, she leaned against a building and pulled the jacket tighter around her frame. Biting her lip, she felt a single tear leak out of the corner of her eye and splatter onto the ground below. Taking a shaky breath, she tried to calm down. Being homeless in America couldn't be much different from being homeless in Sokovia. Except for now... she didn't have Pietro.
Who are you kidding? You're nothing without him.
Suddenly, Wanda felt a hand grip the top of her head. "Hey girl," an unfamiliar voice slurred. "Do you wanna play?" She felt her stomach churn. This behavior was familiar to her- she knew what they wanted. Looking up, she felt herself tense up as she saw a man looming over her.
"N-No," she stammered, shrinking back and closing her eyes. Maybe if she closed her eyes, he would lose interest and leave. Obviously, this didn't happen.
"Aw, c'mon! You're no fun." He tried to caress her face, and she slapped his hand away instinctively. Slowly, his expression shifted from one of glee to one of anger. "Jesus christ! What was that for?" Wanda simply glared up at him, not saying anything. "Hey boys, how about we teach this chick a lesson?"
As Wanda looked on in horror, two other men appeared from the shadows. Before she knew what was happening, she was being yanked to her feet. Her back was slammed against the wall, and a small wince escaped her. One of the men, a short and stout guy, slapped her across the face. The sound rang out, and they laughed at Wanda's clear pain. "Nice," one of his friends said. "My turn."
He swung his fist and punched her right in the gut, eliciting another cry of pain from the girl. She knew in the back of her mind that she could fight back; that she could easily use her powers, but she was just too tired. The third man, who hadn't touched Wanda thus far, cracked his knuckles and advanced. He was the burliest of the two, and she braced herself for what was to come. He kicked her in the side, resulting in her falling back onto the ground. Apparently, they once again found this hilarious. Even as she was down, they kicked her until she was curled up in the fetal position.
Wanda was helpless as they pummeled her, punch after punch. She was pretty sure one of her ribs was cracked, but her thoughts were too cloudy to make sure. Eventually, the burly man got another major hit on her, kicking her hard in the leg. "You want us to stop now?" Wanda nodded, not caring that she was being cowardly. She just wanted the pain to stop. "Well too bad," he sneered, slamming her against the wall once more. "We stop when we want to stop."
The beating lasted for 10 more minutes. Every minute was pure torture- and Wanda knew how that felt. Eventually, they stopped. Whether it was out of tiredness or boredom, Wanda didn't care. Before they left, though, their "leader" saw the picture that was still clutched in her hand. Yanking it away, he studied it with a raised eyebrow. "Huh. Cute." Then, he crouched down, making sure the photo was right at her eye level... and he ripped it. Again and again. Once it was in multiple tiny pieces, he let the shreds of paper flutter to the ground.
"Whoops."
Laughing, the men left her there. Bruised and broken, Wanda was in immense pain, but the thing that hurt the most was the ripping of the photo. The last thing she had left of her family, her past... gone. She was sprawled on the ground, blood seeping out of a wound on her head. Gritting her teeth, she tried to push herself up before collapsing from the effort.
Wanda considered calling out for help, but there was no one around. She simply lay there- completely and utterly alone.
~~~
When Natasha found Wanda's room empty, the panic set in. It didn't take a genius to realize what had happened. Cursing under her breath, she practically sprinted downstairs. She paused briefly when she saw the others and took a deep breath. "Wanda's gone," she said simply. Before she could leave, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Wait- let me come with." It was Clint, his features tight with concern. "Her brother saved my life- I want to make sure she's okay." Natasha nodded, and the pair set off.
Jumping in one of Tony's many cars, Clint and Natasha started driving. They didn't quite know where to go, but Natasha took her best guess. "This way," she decided. "Less people. Wanda would gravitate here." Clint hummed in agreement and followed her directions.
The ride was mostly silent, and they stopped every few minutes to check and see if Wanda was nearby. They must have taken a couple of wrong turns because a half-hour later they still hadn't found her. Getting out of the car, the tired Avengers had similar dejected looks on their faces.
Clint bit his lip. "Maybe we should head back. Continue tomorrow." Natasha's head shot up, her fiery red hair swishing as she did so.
"No. I failed her once, I'm not failing her again." Leaning against the car, she looked up and sighed. "I knew she needed help. We all did. But I didn't say anything- not even a hello." Clint didn't have anything to say to that. Suddenly, Natasha heard something. Putting a finger to her lips, she focused. It was a quiet sobbing, coming from an out-of-the-way street to their left. Clint must have heard it too, because they shared a glance and both started running in the direction of the sound.
"WANDA!" Natasha called. "Where are you?" No response, not that she expected one. Following the noise, she abruptly stopped as soon as she turned a corner. "Oh god. Wanda." The poor girl was curled up on the ground, blood splatters all around her. "What happened to you?" Slowly and carefully advancing towards her, she gently lifted up her chin, the young witch's watery eyes meeting her own.
A small whimper escaped Wanda's lips, and her voice came out raspy. "Men. Hurt. Photo." The first two words Natasha understood, but photo? Looking down, she noticed small pieces of paper littering the ground. Picking up one, she saw that it was what looked like a young Wanda, standing next to a young Pietro. Oh. Her heart sunk with the realization, and she felt a surge of pity for her.
"I'm so, so sorry. I should have been here, milaya." Clint finally caught up to her, and his jaw dropped. She turned to glance over at him. "She needs medical, now. She's losing blood, and she's obviously in a lot of pain." Natasha didn't even bother asking Wanda if she could walk- it was obvious she couldn't. Once again meeting Wanda's eyes, she gave her a warm smile. "Okay honey, I'm going to pick you up and carry you to the car," she explained softly.
Wanda, who had been listening to the conversation, shook her head quickly. "No, no medical. Please." Natasha narrowed her eyes in confusion. "No more hurt."
"Oh. They're not gonna hurt you, I promise." She sighed and propped Wanda's up against her. "Do you trust me?" The girl bit her lip, considering, and finally nodded.
"Yes."
"Thank you," Natasha murmured, wiping a drop of blood from Wanda's forehead. "For trusting me." Picking her up bridal style, she carefully carried her back through the street and to the car where Clint was waiting. Tears were still spilling from the girl's eyes, and blood was getting on Natasha's clothes but she didn't care one bit. "I'm gonna stay with Wanda in the back seat," she said to Clint. Easing her into the backseat, Natasha rested Wanda's head on her thigh and absentmindedly combed through her hair with her fingers.
Once they reached the Compound, Natasha helped place Wanda on a stretcher that had already been prepared- Clint had called in advance telling medical to prepare. Wanda was visibly tense, and craned her neck to look over at Natasha. "Stay, please." Those words were all she needed, and the woman reached over to take her hand.
"Always."
A short while later, Wanda was laying in a cot in the medical wing, hooked up to various machines. Some of her wounds had been stitched up, and she was laying with her eyes open, unspeaking. Natasha was next to her, their hands still linked. Finally, the woman spoke. "Why did you run away?" She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from Wanda herself.
Sighing, the girl looked away. "I- I didn't belong. I didn't deserve to be here." Pausing, she continued slowly. "Stark even wanted me dead." Natasha screwed her eyes shut for a moment, pushing down her anger at Tony.
Choosing her words carefully, Natasha massaged circles on Wanda's palm with her fingers. "Sometimes, when we're angry, we say and do things we don't mean. Tony doesn't hate you- he's angry. Angry at himself for Ultron- and he needs someone to take it out on." She pressed her lips together. "That's why he said what he said."
"I'm not going to lie to you. Some of the others may be a bit... cautious around you for a while. Tony especially, but Steve and Sam too. But until they finally grow comfortable, you have me and Clint. We care about you, milaya." Wanda's eyes grew wet with tears, and she blinked them away. Natasha continued, changing the subject. "I saw what they did to your photo. Clint's trying to piece it back together right now. I know how important it is to you." She let out a shaky breath. "I know we can never replace your original family... but we can still be family. That's what the Avengers are supposed to be."
Natasha looked down at Wanda, eyes filled with empathy and care. "So how about it? Can we... will you let us be your family?"
Wanda's jaw hung open a bit, but she slowly started to nod. "Y-Yes." Her voice cracked with emotion. Natasha smiled lovingly and squeezed her hand.
Soon, Wanda started getting visibly tired. Her eyelids started to droop, and Natasha noticed. "You want to sleep, Little Witch?" Wanda giggled lightly at the nickname, maybe the first time she had done so in months. But she shook her head. She didn't want to be subjected to the nightmares... and even more so, she didn't want to be alone again. "I'll be right by your side," Natasha reassured her, reading her mind. Wanda opened her mouth to assure the woman that she wasn't a child; that she didn't need to stay... but no words came out. She wanted Natasha there.
"Okay." Nodding, Natasha got moved some chairs around and pushed them up to the bed, allowing her to be close to Wanda while not messing with any of the machinery or invading her space. Laying down on her makeshift bed, Natasha rolled over and pulled Wanda into her chest.
"Goodnight, Wanda." The girl let out a slow breath and leaned into Natasha's contact.
"Night." Natasha relaxed as she heard her breathing grow steady, signaling her falling into sleep. For once, Natasha was able to relax as well. She knew that as long as she was alive... Wanda would never be alone again.