Chapter 8
“How long has she been in there?”
Steve is a little breathless as he comes to a halt beside Nat who’s banging lightly on the bathroom door. It’s not like she couldn’t break it down if she wanted to, but… she doesn’t want to invade on Wanda too much. She doesn’t want to invade her privacy unless she has to.
“Almost an hour, I think,” Natasha says quietly, leaning up against the doorframe. “Wanda, honey, can you open the door? It’s just me and Steve out here, it’s okay.”
There’s a further silence, and Steve lets out a harsh blow of air. “Friday, is she okay?” he asks, voice low.
“ Miss Maximoff’s vitals appear to be stable, but she’s been in a sedentary position on the bathroom floor for thirty four minutes.”
Steve and Natasha exchange a long silent look. “How much will Tony kill me if I break the door down?” Steve asks, voice low again. “It’s probably a flashback. Right?”
“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, running a hand over her face and remaining silent for a few beats before giving a definitive nod. “Break it down.”
Nothing else has to be said, before Steve is wrenching the door off its hinges (in his defence, it’s a tidy break). Natasha feels her entire body tensing up as soon as her eyes land on Wanda.
She’s curled up tiny on the bathroom floor, head nuzzled into her knees and arms wrapped securely around herself. Nat can see that the crotch of her sweatpants is wet. She can also see the girl is trembling , unrelentingly.
Before she can even force herself to move into action, Steve is coming over with a blanket in hand, carefully placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder.
“She needs you, Tasha,” he murmurs lowly, and that’s all Nat needs to force herself to move forward.
She takes the blanket from Steve and makes her way over, crouching down in front of Wanda with barely any hesitation. She settles on her haunches and watches the girl for a few long moments before carefully draping the blanket over her shoulders. “Hey, kitten, it’s me,” she says, voice gentle but not too soft. Just a little softer than her normal tone. “We’re in your bathroom at the tower. On the ninth floor. The floor with the best lounge and the lap pool,” Natasha continues, keeping her voice steady. “Your name is Wanda Maximoff. You’re twenty years old, and you turn twenty one in eight months time. That’s exciting, right? You’ve been through a lot, in these last years especially, but you’re super safe now. You’re at home with your family. Steve’s right through there, in the other room. He wants to know if you’re okay. So do I. We all care about you so much. Me and Steve especially.”
The silence carries on but Natasha observes Wanda’s breathing starting to even out. She knew that would work, the rhythm of her words usually manages to soothe Wanda, even if she isn’t actually paying attention to what’s being said.
“I’m just gonna put my hand right here. Whenever you’re ready, you can take it,” Natasha says, and moves her hand out to rest in the space just in front of Wanda.
She only has to wait a few long moments before a small shaky hand is sliding into hers, cold fingers curling around her own.
“There’s our girl,” Natasha says gently, giving Wanda’s hand a firm squeeze, offering a tiny smile of reassurance. “Good girl. It’s alright, kitten.”
Natasha runs her thumb lightly over Wanda’s knuckles, keeping a close eye on her face. She seems to be gradually coming back to herself, because she’s blinking a little fast and doing the little twitchy thing with her nose that she does when she’s just woken up.
“Were you about to take a shower?” Nat asks softly, keeping her voice gentle. She wants to figure out what triggered Wanda because she’s been doing her best to get a good list in her head of things for them to avoid. “What happened, huh?”
Wanda pushes out a light whimper, squeezing Natasha’s hand lightly, and Nat takes that as the most she can manage right now.
“Alright. It’s okay, baby. It’s alright,” she murmurs lowly, carefully lifting her other hand towards Wanda’s face. “Can I touch you? Is that alright?”
Wanda gives a shaky nod that seems more like an uncoordinated jerk of her head, but Natasha understands her well enough to know what she means. She carefully brushes some of Wanda’s hair away from her face, and after a beat she ties it gently back into a loose ponytail.
“Hey, we’re gonna get you out of these clothes and into something else comfortable, yeah?” Nat murmurs softly, careful with her wording, just in case . She’s figured out that suggesting Wanda change clothes can sometimes be taken the wrong way.
Wanda is still for a moment before she gives another nod, a little more with it this time. Her eyes dart around the room briefly and it looks like she’s trying to get a gage of her surroundings. Nat allows herself to cup the girl’s cheek lightly again.
“It’s okay, kitten. We’re in your bathroom, your bedroom is through there. We’re at the tower, and you’re safe here,” she murmurs, voice soft as she leans in, brushing Wanda’s cheek carefully. “Let’s get you changed, okay?”
Steve makes himself scarce after some visual confirmation that Wanda is okay, and Natasha gently starts to change her out of her sweatpants and underwear. Wanda’s still despondent and docile, so it isn’t hard.
Once Nat has her changed, she gets her sat down on the side of her bed. Wanda still seems distant and checked out, so Nat decides that getting her into bed for a while wouldn’t be the worst thing. S he always used to need to sleep it off after a bad trigger, and figures it could help Wanda. She’ll probably sleep a few hours and be awake in time for dinner.
“You tired, honey?” she asks carefully, sinking into a crouching position in front of the girl and placing two gentle hands on her thighs.
Wanda gives a weak nod, eyes fluttering a little.
Nat smiles softly, understandingly, studying Wanda’s expression for a few moments longer, before she adds, “Do you want to talk about it?”
There’s a long silence, before Wanda manages to say, “I can’t, yet.”
Natasha’s heart lurches with how painfully and strongly she understands.
“Alright, kitten. Sleep?” she asks, softening herself, because Wanda needs that right now. She’s always needed Nat to be softer when she’s coming down from a panic attack — she used to get them quite a lot, back when she was younger, after sokovia and everything she and Pietro went through there as kids. So it isn’t entirely unchartered territory.
Nat helps her into a comfortable position and tucks a blanket around her, hands gentle and words even gentler as she murmurs lowly to Wanda under her breath.
“Would you like me to stay for a bit?” she asks, carefully, after she’s settled, running her thumb lightly over the girl’s cheek. Her eyes droop, cheeks a little red and flushed from the ordeal.
“Yes please,” she murmurs out, voice foggy with sleep. “Stroke my hair, Nat?”
“Course, kitten,” Natasha can’t help but smile, and she wordlessly slips onto the bed behind her little girl and props herself up on one elbow, her free hand moving up and beginning to stroke Wanda’s hair gently.
She remembers exactly how Wanda’s always loved it. Pietro did, too, although he used to like having his back rubbed more. She remembers how — back when they were young , and first came to the tower — Nat would lock the door, close the blinds and hold them both. She was the only one who was allowed to touch them, for awhile. Wanda especially. And they did latch onto her like a mother.
She would hold them both close, stroking Wanda’s hair and rubbing Pietro’s back, allowing them to both fall asleep with the certainty that they were entirely safe with her, their little hands locked together and resting just over her abdomen.
They both grew up though, outgrew that, perhaps stopped needing the same kind of mothering. Except now Wanda needs it again, and it had taken Nat awhile to realise that. That Wanda needs her just like she did before, maybe more because Nat’s never seen her this broken before.
She fully intends to be here for her little one. Especially because she doesn’t have her brother here to protect her anymore. God he was so fiercely protective of her.
Natasha hates that they became complacent with the idea that she’d left the nest for a fresh start. That they shouldn’t hunt her down. She knows Pietro would’ve insisted. She misses him.
“You’re safe with me, alright?” Natasha murmurs, voice low, winding a little of Wanda’s hair around her fingers carefully. “Have sweet dreams, angel. I’m right here.”
“Kay Nat,” Wanda murmurs lowly voice sleepy and muffled. “Love you.”
Natasha feels her breathing hitch and her eyes almost well up. “Love you too, kitten,” she says softly, dipping just a little to press the lightest kiss to the girl’s cheek. “Love you too.”