The Tower Comes Down
Things had been building and building since Lagos.
But before that, since Sokovia. Since the city fell and her only living relative died.
Before that, when a shell blew out young Wanda's apartment and she was forced to watch her mother and father die.
As she held her breath and held her brothers hand, waiting for death.
So one could say things had been building for a very long time.
But the thing is, when things keep building and they become more and more unstable, eventually they break. They fall. They collapse.
Wanda's collapse began when she watched her parents die.
Her hatred for Tony Stark, her yearning for power so she could make him pay for taking her family, was one unstable building block.
Ultron came. Another block.
Feeling Ultron. Knowing what was in his mind. Finding out that Tony Stark was not the bad guy. Another block.
Working to try and save Sokovia. Block.
People dying, buildings crashing, hiding because she was so scared. Another block.
Pietro. Dying. Her mind splintered. She felt it all. Another block.
The next one took a while to come, but it did.
Lagos. So many people dead. Her fault. A block on top of the completely unstable building foundations.
The news, everyone blaming her. A block.
Trying to make it right. Failing. Inside a cell.
The last block fell into place until suddenly...it all came crashing down around her.
They'd been there for less than twenty four hours, but Wanda couldn't take it anymore.
She deserved to be there.
She deserved to be kept prisoner, to have her powers rendered useless by the collar around her neck, to be watched and talked about.
But it wasn't enough.
She'd brought pain to so many people. Brought death.
It didn't matter that she hadn't meant to. That she'd been trying to be good. It didn't matter.
They were still dead.
Death.
The only thing the young woman could think about for 24 hours straight.
Those she had killed.
The lifeless bodies. Their grieving families. Lives unfulfilled.
Her thoughts turned form the death she had wrought to her own death.
Would it not have been better if she'd died alongside her brother?
If she'd never been able to continue down this path.
How many would be alive?
She didn't deserve to live.
Not when she'd taken life from so many.
She didn't have her powers.
Not really, anyway. But she could still...sort of feel others a little.
She could feel Clint's frustration. His anger.
Sam's willingness to believe Tony would do the right thing.
Scott's enthusiasm on the outside, but the concern he buried down inside.
She felt the shift in the people watching the cameras.
Their attention scattered. Fighting. Pain as they went down.
Steve.
She knew then she had about three minutes to pull this off.
She shouldn't be allowed to leave the prison.
She would only cause more harm the moment she left.
They didn't have a lot in their cells.
A bed. A blanket. Toilet.
There was nothing on the ceiling but...
She moved quickly. The bed wasn't nailed down. Probably because the prison layout changed so often. It didn't matter.
She pushed the bed onto its side then pushed it to the corner of the room.
She moved it again, so the length of the bed now climbed up the wall.
It wouldn't hold her body weight from the top, but from the middle...that was all she needed. She was short.
She quickly ripped the blanket into two pieces, one shorter.
She tied the longest part of the blanket around the middle of the bed.
She could reach the loop of blanket easily but if she held her knees up with the rest of the blanket, if she tied her legs with her knees bent, it would work.
She would not touch the floor.
She could hear voices from the other cells, probably Clint.
"Wanda? Kid, what the hell are you doing in there? Wanda?!"
"I'm sorry." The woman cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and slipped her head through the loop.
Steve was still fighting.
He was probably about two minutes out from unlocking the doors.
That would be enough time for her to die.
"What are you sorry for? Hey, talk to me." She heard Clint again.
"We won't be here forever, this isn't permanent. Wanda?"
Her time was quickly dwindling.
She wiped her eyes and took one deep breath before she put one leg up behind her, then the other, in seconds she had tied the blanket around her legs.
The bed frame creaked as Wanda pitched forward.
Her body immediately began fighting for air, pained, grating chokes escaping.
Her ears buzzed and her hearing faded in and out.
She didn't know if the pounding was in her head or if it was Clint.
She would be sorry to not get to see him again.
More chokes.
Her nails scratched at the noose but even as her body screamed for air, it was too late to back out now, even if she could have.
Unbearable agony, pressure in her head, like her eardrums would burst.
She watched through heavy lids as a figure, shrouded in black spots came towards her.
Death?
Her eyelids slipped closed, hand dropping from her neck, hanging at her side as she lost consciousness.
Out of air, out of time.
I'll see you soon, brother.