Chapter 2
“Listen, you need to lay off. She was terrified, Nat!”
“No, you listen, Tony. I know all too well what it’s like to push away all the attempts of people who are only trying to help you. I know what it’s like to shut down opportunities to open up, that you’ll later wish you’d taken. Keeping bad shit inside can tear you apart,” she sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “I’m not going to let that happen to Wanda. Wherever she’s been, she’s gonna tell us. I don’t care how I get it out of her.”
Tony purses his lips, shaking his head. “And if it was just a bad breakup? Maybe she was living with that guy, doesn’t wanna talk about it?”
It’s Natasha’s turn to raise an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “I take it you didn’t see the bruising on her thighs, then.” That’s enough to prompt Tony’s jaw to fall just slightly agape, eyes hardening. “Because I did. And I’m telling you, something happened to the little girl that we were supposed to protect, Tony. And I swear to god, I’m not going to fail her again.”
Tony stares for a few moments, before giving a shaky exhale and a nod. “Okay.” Then,
“Where’s Steve?”
-
“Knock knock!”
Wanda stops just before the door, leaning up too peer through the peephole, stomach jumping a little when she sees Steve standing there. She’s missed him a lot.
Tentatively, she reaches out to turn the handle, offering a smile as she pulls the door open. “Steve,” she says softly, scanning the corridor behind him just in case. She’s had enough of Natasha’s interrogation tactics for the day.
“Hey kid,” Steve smiles, and his eyes are so soft as he looks at her, that Wanda feels something akin to relief when she melts into his arms for a hug. Steve was always very paternal towards her and Pietro, and it would be a lie to say she hasn’t missed him.
But as soon as the hug is over, Wanda’s relief morphs into looming dread. Because of course he has questions. They all do. She vanished for… a long time.
“Can I come in?” Steve asks, patting her shoulder carefully.
Wanda hesitates, fighting to stop herself retracting from the touch because it’s just a little too much. But after a few moments she gives a nod. She’s not sure what he wants, but she hopes it’s not what the men usually want if they come into your room. She figures it won’t be; Steve isn't like the men on the farm.
“How are you, kid?” Steve asks softly, surveying the room for a moment, before moving to perch on the arm of the couch, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re a lot more grown up than the last time we saw you.”
Wanda ducks her head, cheeks burning red a little, and she has to swallow the rising anxiety. I t’s not like the farm here, don’t behave like you would on the farm —it’s not like that here… the reminder is hard, because she can’t really remember life before it all too well. It’s hazy in a lot of places. “I’m fine,” she says, after a few moments of deep deliberation.
“Your accent is… different,” Steve notes, tilting his head, and Wanda gives a half-hearted shrug.
“America rubbed off on me,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet Steve’s for a moment, before she looks away. She’s been building up the guts to ask someone this question ever since she got on the jet, and she figures that Steve is the best person to ask. “Steve, uh… what year is it? How- how old am I?”
For a moment, Steve looks confused, and then he looks horrified, and then he’s tucking all his emotions back out of sight, face blank as he looks at Wanda. “It’s two-thousand and nineteen. You’re twenty,” he tells her carefully, eyes scanning over her face as he tries to gage her reaction.
Wanda blanches, looking down, reeling a little. It had felt like more time than four years, but also less. They hadn’t believed in connection to the outside world, they lived by the calendar of the sun and the moon - that’s what he always said.
“Oh.”
Steve stands up, taking a few careful steps forward. “Wanda… where were you?” he asks, voice gentle, words soft and calm enough that she feels herself relax a little. That is until his hand lands on her shoulder; gently but unexpectedly, and suddenly she’s retreating with a yelp of surprise, eyes wide.
Steve looks surprised, holding his hands up in a display of mock surrender, shaking his head lightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump,” he says, but they both know it’s more than that. His touch didn’t make her jump, it triggered the ingrained fear that she’s been conditioned into over the last four years.
There’s a long silence, during which Steve watches Wanda closely, concerned, and Wanda stares down at the floor, hands shaking almost imperceptibly as she curls them into tight fists. Steve sees, though.
After what feels like too long, Wanda looks up with a bright smile and asks, “You want some tea?”
Steve is too shocked by the shift in demeanour to do anything but nod.
So Wanda makes tea, and they sit and talk about how Nat and Tony want to adopt a puppy, how Thor proposed to Jane, how Steve and Nat have been going steady for almost three years now, and a shit ton of other irrelevant stuff to avoid the elephant in the room.
-
“Come in! I’ll be right out.”
Natasha pushes the door to Wanda’s apartment open, wandering in and closing the door behind Steve. Wanda’s been back a couple of days now, and Natasha knows there’s something wrong.
Wanda hasn’t left her apartment (which is fine, there’s a bedroom, a living room, a balcony, a kitchenette and a fully equipped bathroom) and they’ve asked everyone to stay away just for the time being. Everyone was a little frustrated at that, but Natasha knows she needs to readjust first, before she’s bombarded.
She can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but there’s something about her behaviour that makes Natasha incredibly on edge. Not in any sense that she sees Wanda as a threat; nothing like that. It’s just… unsettling.
Her point is only proven when Wanda’s bedroom door clicks open and she comes out, her hair tucked up beneath a makeshift towel turban… dressed only in her panties. It takes Natasha a second to notice, but when she does she grabs a cushion off the couch, throwing it at her with a yelp of surprise.
“Oh my god,” Steve mutters, turning his head so fast that he runs the risk of whiplash.
“Wanda, what the fuck? Put some clothes on!” she all but shrieks, sparing a glance at Steve who has a hand over his eyes, looking incredibly guilty despite having no part in what he just saw. Nat gets it, though, Wanda’s like their kid, really.
Wanda looks surprised, missing the cushion Nat threw completely, but stooping to pick it up at the outrage she’s met with. She doesn’t seem entirely rushed about it though, just wide eyed and surprised, as though… she doesn’t understand why Natasha’s so shocked.
“Oh- oh, sorry,” she says, blinking a few times, bringing the cushion up to her chest.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Nat snaps, and she frowns, pointing towards Wanda’s bedroom with a few sharp blinks, still trying to avert her eyes. “Go and put something on. Go on.”
Wanda stares at her blankly for a few moments before she nods and retreats to her bedroom, steps suddenly fast as she slams the door behind her.
Almost as soon as she’s gone, Natasha feels a deep dread settling in the bottom of her stomach. That wasn’t normal behaviour. Anyone in their right mind knows that.
When she looks over to Steve, he looks just as concerned, if not more.
They’re sitting there for awhile, in total silence. When Wanda re-emerges she’s wearing one of Natasha’s long-sleeved winter shirts and a pair of jeans. Nat curses herself internally, because she obviously scared her enough that she didn’t how much she had to cover up. She feels bad for shouting, it was just her off the bat reaction.
“It’s hot outside, honey. You don’t wanna put something lighter on?” she asks, and she makes her voice gentle, because she feels bad and notices the way Wanda is avoiding eye contact.
“No, I’m okay,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. “Where are we going?”
Natasha glances over at Steve who seems to be doing a good job not looking at Wanda either. She feels a little angry at him, momentarily, because they shouldn’t be making Wanda feel worse right now. There’s obviously a lot of stuff going on that they have to figure out, but either way they shouldn’t make it harder for their little girl.
“Shopping? You need some clothes of your own, and it could be fun,” Natasha explains softly, but she’s suddenly a little worried about navigating the changing rooms with Wanda.
“Alright.” Wanda nods, and then makes her way to the door, without checking to see if they’re following.
Natasha watches with a raised eyebrow, but then nudges Steve firmly and moves to follow her.