i know places

Clint brings pizza home for dinner on a night when Wanda really doesn't feel like cooking, and for a moment she almost can't remember liking him more than she does now. It's warm, and smells delicious from the second he steps into the apartment, carrying the boxes over to the kitchen. Pietro's off the couch in a second, and is almost as excited to see Clint as he is to see the boxes of pizza. He's just that little bit more excited to see the pizza. There are drinks too, and Wanda takes the beer from Clint, who is trying and almost failing to juggle everything. She places the bottles down on the table and returns, retrieving three plates from the kitchen. Then she swiftly takes Clint's messenger bag from his shoulder, while he's busy unloading the stack of pizza boxes in his arms. She leaves his bag in Pietro's room and returns to find Pietro sweetly kissing Clint on the cheek.

"You are amazing. Have I said this lately?" Pietro asks.

"You know what? You haven't said that. In a long time, actually." Clint smirks. "I'd love to hear it again, you know. Just one more time would be nice."

A grin appears on Pietro's face, as he leaves another quick kiss to his cheek and darts away to get a sweater from nearby. Clint puts the rest of the beers in the fridge, and when he returns to the table he sees Wanda standing there and smiles, gesturing for her to join them. She walks over soon, scooping up one of the bottles from the table and swiftly pulling off the lid.

"Figured I owed you a couple drinks. You know, since I kept drinking all of yours." Clint says, smiling. "So consider this as me paying off some of the beer debt I owe you."

Wanda nods, pausing to sip a little before she speaks.

"What is Pietro's is yours. And what's mine is my brothers. So I suppose this means, what is mine is yours."

His smile grows. "And what's mine is yours."

"Ah, look at this. I am so happy to see my boyfriend and sister getting along so well." Pietro sighs, climbing into one of the seats next to Clint. "And now we have pizza, and beer, and nice music. This is a good night so far."

It makes her smile to think of how many nice moments they've had together like this, just the three of them. She leaves them to find an aspirin in the kitchen, then she joins them and pulls out the seat across from them. Wanda picks up a warm, fresh slice of pizza once she's settled and it lifts her spirits right away. It's not that her spirits need it, she thinks, it's just that it's been a long morning and she's glad to have a quiet night like this before the Stark party tomorrow night.

"How was work, everyone?" Clint asks, glancing between them. "We all have a good day? Or was it as busy as my day?"

Pietro shrugs, finishing off a slice of pizza before he says anything. "Yes, but I am tired of all of these rude people. They do not have to be like this. After all, I am just bringing them their deliveries. It is not like they have to ride around the city with deliveries and parcels for other people like I do. So they do not need to be so rude."

"I think my day was better than yours." Wanda says, offering her brother a smile. "But you are lucky, at least you can get away from the rude people."

"People are shit, sometimes. Can't help it, but some of them just are." Clint sighs. He moves a hand to Pietro's shoulder, while taking a long sip of beer. "Best thing you can do is find a way to get past it. Fresh starts always help. Right? Or so I've heard."

It's then that she first picks up on it, that something's up. It's different. Wanda listens quietly, chewing on the slice of pizza, while occasionally glancing between them. She doesn't know what it is, not with certainty, and she doesn't like that because she always knows. She only knows that it is something, and it's there in the way Pietro glances at Clint a few times, and how Clint's hand is still pressed to her brother's shoulder in a gentle, reassuring kind of way. For a second she wonders if this is it, if Pietro knows about what happened and if it was Clint's doing, and then her brother speaks again and she knows it isn't about it.

"I am not having fun anymore. And I am so tired of these people."

She pauses, slice of pizza between her fingers. "What do you mean? You love riding your bike. And work is not always fun, that is why it is work. But I remember you loved it, once. What has changed?"

There's a shrug from Pietro. He leans back into his chair, pulling his knees back with him. Then he casts another look at Clint, and she thinks that whatever this is it's something they've talked about before.

"Yes I do. But I am tired of people."

Wanda throws him a look, eyebrow arched slightly.

"Work is not always fun. I am sorry, but that is the truth and you know this. And I do understand what you are saying. I work at a bar, I know what people are like. But we need money, and I don't think you can quit now unless you have somewhere else to go that pays well."

And then she sees the look they share in the passing moments, and she knows with certainty that they have talked about this. It concerns her because they're acting so strange, like they're worried about something, worried about her. Wanda watches them closely, bringing the bottle of beer to her lips as the two of them stay silent, and it only confirms her concerns that something isn't right.

"Well? What is it? Go on, tell me."

"I do have something else." Pietro tells her. "I have found another job, I mean. And it also pays better."

She feels uncertain and hums quietly, tracing her finger over the top of the beer bottle.

"It's a good idea. And if you just hear him out, you'll see that it is." Clint says next, half-smiling. "Over at my work, at the security firm, there's a job that I already talked to Steve about. He thinks Pietro could be a good fit, and he's free to start whenever he can."

Wanda pauses, and thinks she might have choked on her beer if she'd been swallowing it. She turns to Pietro, eyes wider now and gaze stuck firmly on him.

"Stvarno? Jesi li ozbiljan?" she asks.

He almost looks away, but decides against it.

"Da, Sestra."

It's a lot to take in. It's almost too much. She doesn't like it at all. She doesn't like the idea of Pietro working at a security firm, because it's dangerous and he's been through enough. They both have. She doesn't like it, and she can't see why he does.

He doesn't have experience at this kind of thing, not like Clint does, not like anyone else working there does. It feels like it's only an option because of his connection to Clint, but that's not why it doesn't feel right. It unsettles her and Wanda suddenly feels like she's lost her appetite. She slides the plate away, casting her gaze between Clint and Pietro. She doesn't like it because it's dangerous, and a risk, and she doesn't want him involved in a job he has no experience doing.

"Working there, doing what?" she asks a minute later, then turns to Clint. "He has no experience with these kinds of things. What would his job be?"

"Admin work. All of that fun stuff."

She laughs because she can't help it, because it doesn't make sense. She knows her brother. Pietro is fast, and energetic, and he thrives from being in environments where he can use that and channel it. She doesn't see how working in an office is going to be good for him, or how it will work out at all because it's so unlike him.

"Nisi ozbiljan." Wanda sighs to herself, still unable to believe it. "Ne sviđa mi se ovo."

It annoys her brother. She doesn't mean for it to, but it does. She watches as it spreads over his face slowly. Wanda wants to tell him that she doesn't mean to offend him, that she only wants to protect him, and that it concerns her to have him working in such a dangerous place—but she sees the look on her brother's face, and she knows what it means. She knows it means he's decided, and that he's not happy with her for the way she feels, and for not embracing his risky decision.

"Why are you laughing? This is no joke, Wanda."

"Da je. Mora biti." she tells him.

"It is more money." Pietro pushes back right away. "You don't want that?"

Wanda sips a little more beer, needing it. "Zašto si to tajio od mene?" she asks, why this is the first she's hearing of this. "Zašto cekati do sada da mi kažeš?"

A second later, Pietro sighs and drags his hands over his face, like he's tired of her worrying about this. She knows he is already decided, so she doesn't know why they sat down to tell her this way when his mind is already made up.

"Why are you doing this, Wanda? Why will you not just listen?"

Wanda leans back into the chair, gaze set on Pietro like it's just the two of them, and for now it might as well be. It's like Clint isn't here any more. She knows he is, and that he's watching, and waiting for a moment to say something, but he doesn't say anything yet. She doesn't know what she wants to say to him, or to her brother.

There's a part of her that wants to tell them that she doesn't like it because it's dangerous, and after Sokovia she doesn't want her brother near anything dangerous. She wants to say he shouldn't be around bullets, or in that environment, and she knows it's only an office job but there's something about it that doesn't sit well with her. She wants to tell them this, but she knows they won't hear it.

"Ne, neću slušati. Ne sviđa mi se."

"But it is not your choice, Sestra." he tells her. "I know you think that it is, but it isn't."

In one sip, Wanda finishes off her beer. "Zašto mi onda to govoriš?"

Clint lets out a sigh, then leans against the table with his elbows. He looks tense, and unsure, but she knows where he stands on this.

"Listen, I think we should all cool off—"

"Što on zna o tome? Što ako se ozlijediš?" Wanda cuts in, gaze on her brother. "Ti si moje sve. Molim te razmisli o tome."

Pietro's up on his feet in a second, walking off to the kitchen. He stops half-way and turns back, leaning against the frame of the chair.

"She thinks that you know nothing about this. Like this is not your job." Pietro says sharply. "She thinks it is too dangerous, and that I should not do this."

A second later, Clint's looking at Wanda and not at Pietro. He's looking at her like he wants to convince her to see it their way, and she wants to ask him why. She wants to ask him why he can't see it her way. Wanda feels frustrated and tries not to let it show, but it's hard. She bites down on her lip, waiting as Clint speaks again.

"I promise you, nothing's gonna happen to him. He'd be working in the office." Clint tells her. "It's a big place. Really big. Lots of employees. A lot of good people. He's interested in trying something new, and Steve's down for it. So why not?"

Half a beat passes, before she looks back to Pietro's waiting, expectant gaze.

"Zašto to radiš? Zašto?"

Why, she asks him, because she needs to know. She needs to know why he is never happy where he finds work, and why he is always moving and changing. Then she wants to ask him why he thinks they should always be happy at work. The Green Tides is not a bad place, but Wanda imagines she could be happier somewhere else. She stays because it is safe enough and she knows they need money. She doesn't understand why her brother can't see this, or why he can't pick any other job. Then he speaks, and there is so much more that she doesn't understand.

"Zašto to radiš? Želiš da budem nesretan?"

Why are you doing this? Pietro asks her, eyes wide, hurt. You want me to be unhappy?

It lingers in the quiet after. It stays in a way she doesn't expect it to. She feels it, and it's heavy, and present, just like their gaze on her when she opens her mouth to answer—and nothing escapes. It just shuts, because there's nothing for her to say. She leaves, carrying a slice of pizza out on to the fire-escape. Somewhere behind her she hears Clint encouraging Pietro to come and watch TV, and that's the last she hears before she's out there. Wanda climbs out through the window, sitting down slowly. She's not even hungry but she eats it, just so there will be some food in her stomach.

It's so much quieter outside that it gives her time to think about it, and it's all too much. She places the pizza down, leaving what's rest of it untouched. Then a second later she hears a creak on the railing above her and looks up to find someone sitting on the fire-escape above theirs, outside of their window like she is. She finds a dark-haired woman up there, sitting with a cigarette between two fingers and a glass of wine in the other hand. She catches Wanda looking and smiles.

"Oh, hey. I know you."

Wanda looks away then back at her.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You're the cute brunette." she smiles. "With the cute roommate. Boyfriend?"

It takes her a moment to realize it, then Wanda pulls a face, shaking her head quickly.

"No. That is my brother."

The woman smiles. "Nice. Very nice. He's fit. Hope you don't mind me saying that."

She pauses, watching her still. "I am sorry, but do I know you?"

"Not really, I don't think. I'm the chick that lives above you, sometimes. When I'm here I do. You can refer to me as cute brunette #2. That weird chick, who plays that loud music all the time. Or you can call my Darcy. My friends call me that."

There's a small pause between them. Darcy stubs out her cigarette and smiles down at Wanda.

"So is that really your name, and I just made a totally awesome and lucky guess?" Darcy asks. "Or is there something else I could call you?"

"I'm Wanda."

Darcy nods, while readjusting the purple and red beanie she's wearing. "Oh, nice. Cool. Very cool. So are you thirsty, Wanda? I have wine and cigarettes." she says a minute later. "That is if you're not busy. My roomie is away with her big, hunk of a boyfriend. So I could use the company, but if you're not interested that's totally fine."

It's something Wanda considers, if only for the briefest moment. She considers it because she knows it would be a nice distraction, and then she thinks about how Pietro's words are still hanging around in her mind and she knows she won't be good company like thinks.

"I don't think that is such a good idea. I am not in a good mood right now."

"Bad fight?" Darcy asks, half a second later.

Wanda looks up at her again. "You heard?"

"Kinda. Yeah, maybe I did. But also, I can totally read minds." Darcy says, and grins. "Anyway, I'll be here if you want that wine or a chat. I don't really know anyone else since I'm not always here, and it could be nice. But if not, have a nice night."

"Like I said, I am not in such a good mood."

Darcy shrugs, smiling again, and it's so kind and reassuring that it feels oddly comforting.

"That's okay. You seem nice, and I've had much worse company. Trust me."

"Okay. Maybe I will see you soon."

She's off a second later, climbing back inside her window. "This is great!" Darcy calls back. "I'll get you a glass right now!"

Then she's gone and Wanda's almost left wondering if that really just happened. She stays out there for a moment, then carries the slice of pizza back inside and throws it away. She finds Clint in the kitchen, piling pizza on to his plate, and when she looks over to the living area she can faintly make out Pietro's shape through the bookshelves around the couch. He's lying on the couch, watching an old movie on TV.

"I am going out. I do not know when I will be back, but it will be later." Wanda says, pulling her coat off her armchair. It's long, and black, and she pulls it on over her old red dress. "If you are going out, I will leave the keys with you. If not then I will keep them, I am not going far."

He shakes his head, watching her closely.

"No, we're good. See you later?"

Wanda nods, opening up the door. "Mmm. See you."

* * * *

It turns out that Darcy's apartment is very similar to theirs, and it ends up feeling familiar in a good way. Her apartment is decorated differently, and it's nice to see all the pops of bright colors (blue, and red, and purple) clashing against the mostly black furniture. It works and it's nice, and Wanda's eyes skim over it all slowly while Darcy pours them a glass of wine in the kitchen. It's a large open space like theirs, only it's a little different. It's a little more modern. It's sleek, and it's still nice, but their place feels warm. It feels like home. It's the only real home they've ever known here.

"Here you go. One wine, with plenty more to come if you want." Darcy announces, placing the glass down on the bench in the kitchen. "You want anything to eat with that? I have chocolate. More chocolate. Pop-tarts. And chocolate. So pretty much what every student has in their fridge, if they have anything at all."

Wanda smiles a little, walking over slowly. She still isn't sure this is the best idea, with Pietro's voice and his words lingering in her mind. She doesn't know that being here will distract her, or if it will leave a bad first impression because she's distracted and not in the best mood, but there's something genuine and kind about Darcy that tells her it will all be fine.

"You are a student?" Wanda asks, taking a seat at the sleek bar-stool by the bench. "What are you studying?"

"Political science." she smiles back, pulling a seat over to sit on. "Right now I'm interning. But yeah, I'm a student."

She watches her for a moment, then looks down at the glass in her hand.

"That sounds very nice."

"Oh, yeah. It is. It's awesome." Darcy says, pausing to drink a little wine. "What do you do, Wanda? Are you studying anything?"

For a second she stops, thinks on it, and then she smiles and looks back up at Darcy.

"No, I work at a bar."

"Really? That's so cool." Darcy's smile grows. "Do you work in the city?"

Wanda nods, drinking some wine. "Yes, I do. I'm not sure if you know it. It's called the Green Tides."

"Oh, man! What? I love that place. I probably spent too many nights there, having drinks with friends. But it's always fun there." she stops, sighing, before she breaks off a piece of chocolate. "So that's kinda cool, right? We already kinda have something in common. You work at a place where I love to drink. So it's sorta something in common."

She smiles, tracing her finger almost nervously along the rim of the glass. She doesn't know why she feels nervous. She doesn't know if it's because she doesn't feel like herself right now, or maybe it's because it's been so long since she's sat down with someone else to talk about these things. It's more than that. She knows what it is; when she thinks of the people in her life, the important ones, she narrows it down to three, and one of them isn't in her life anymore. There are ones she considers friends, but not too many in the close circle that's small right now, and it's just been so long that she can't help the way she feels.

"Yes, it almost is."

Darcy smiles still, watching her warmly.

"Alright, so let's find more things in common. What do you do when you're not working? Any hobbies?" she asks. "For me, work is my hobby. I don't have much time for anything else, and I don't mind. And I'm talking too much. Sorry. You go."

It feels strange, she thinks soon, to sit with someone and talk about these things. It's not just because Darcy is a stranger, which she is, but for a reason Wanda doesn't know she really doesn't feel like a stranger. It ties into her other thoughts, her other doubts, about how long it's been. It feels open here with Darcy, and different, and mostly it feels nice. 

"I like art."

She lights up, smile growing wider. "Me too! Shit, man. That is so cool. Have you been to any exhibitions in the city lately? There are some really cool ones out right now. Have you been?"

Wanda shakes her head a little. "Not lately, no."

Darcy nudges her arm gently. "Well, we should totally go one time. The arts are underappreciated by many."

Now Wanda smiles a little, relaxing back into her chair.

"So you like loud music, yes?"

"Mhm." she grins. "Yeah. Sorry, I do."

"I don't mind." Wanda tells her, voice a little softer, almost. "I like the music you play. And you have a very nice place here."

After a quick look at the apartment, Darcy turns back to her. "Yeah? Thanks. I've been here a while, and it's kinda small, but it's nice when I'm here. Not that I've been here much lately. I was staying with this guy—and let me just say, there is always a thing with a guy. Am I right?"

Wanda's half-smile stays, as Darcy fills up her drink. She wonders why she thinks of him, at that thought. She thinks of the unsent text message, and the meetings in the park and at the market, and she doesn't know why she almost smiles more because of it.

"What guy?" she asks her.

She knows it's something she wants to ask because deep under her feelings right now about Pietro and their fight, and her past, this feels like something she wants to do. It feels like they're sitting here and talking for a reason, and if Darcy is Wanda's distraction for the moment then she doesn't see why she can't be hers too.

Darcy shrugs, filling up both of their glasses.

"Doesn't matter."

"I don't mind, Darcy." she tells her. "I think maybe we were out on the fire-escape for similar reasons?"

It makes Darcy stop to consider it, and Wanda is glad that she does.

"Kinda. Maybe. I don't know." she sighs, chewing on her lip for a second. "What was yours? I want to make sure mine isn't stupid first."

Wanda smiles easily, then remembers why. "It was a fight. With my brother, and his boyfriend."

"About what?" she asks, interested.

Then Darcy offers Wanda a cigarette and she takes it, thankful. Wanda lights it, then places the lighter and packet of cigarettes back down on the bench.

"Does it matter what it was about?"

"Yeah, because you looked sad." Darcy points out, chewing on another piece of chocolate. "And you still do. So yeah, it matters. Of course it matters. So spill."

Wanda considers it before she finds the words, and for a moment it's hard because there's a lot that she could say. She doesn't want to say it all, she wants it to be simple, so she waits until she finds a way to say it and then it's out there and there's nothing she can do to take it back, and she's glad that she can't because right now she feels like she needs someone to talk to about this.

"My brother wants to do something dangerous, but he does not see it as dangerous. He is passionate, and excited, and smart, and I know he is capable of many great things. But this, what he wants to do, it is dangerous and I don't like it. He does not see it this way, though. He refuses to see it."

Slowly she nods along, taking it in.

"What way does he see it?"

"That I am taking away his happiness, that I want him to be unhappy." Wanda says, words low, strung apart. "His boyfriend works with a security team, or something. He wants to work at the office. And because I am not happy for him, he thinks I am trying to stop him from being happy."

And it hurts me, she thinks, and never says. She doesn't say it to Darcy, and she doesn't think she will ever be able to say it to her brother, but she still feels it. She's hurt by it and she feels a little lonely because of it, and she hates the way it feels.

"And you're worried it will be more than office work?" Darcy asks. "You're worried he's gonna get hurt there?"

She nods. "Yes. And I don't know what to do."

"Look, I don't really know what to say that could help you feel better. But I can say that sometimes things are just out of our control." Darcy tells her, between bites of chocolate. "Life has a way of shaking things up. Sometimes you have to let it, and just see how it falls. I can tell you care about him. And he knows that. But maybe this is something he needs."

Wanda tenses up. "What if it hurts him?"

"Obviously I can't say that it won't. But I can say that it sounds like he'll be fine." she says. "Sounds dull, working in an office doing all that admin. And being surrounded by cool, nice people. He'll be totally safe. And maybe this is just something he needs to do. Maybe you just need to trust him, and yourself, and see where it takes you."

She hums, fiddling with her cigarette. "So, you said something about a thing with a guy. Who is the guy?"

"Oh. You sure you want to hear about that? I mean, it's fine. I'll probably just end up bottling it all up and then bursting later."

Wanda turns to her, half-smiling. "I don't mind. Really. You listened to me. So I don't mind. What is this thing with the guy?"

"O-kay, so it's just a bit of a long story. To summarize it: I fell for the guy that everyone tells you not to fall for. He's a dick. He doesn't always mean to be, and he can be different to me, but he is also sometimes a dick. And to his brother? Okay, so he's not always Mr. Nice guy. But at the same time, he can be nice and kind. And circling back to my point, I fell for him. I knew what it would be like. I knew how I'd feel. And I fell anyway. Now there's nothing I can do about it."

"How did you fall for him?" she asks.

Darcy smiles again. "Hard. Fast. In the worst possible way. It's just—sometimes you can't help what your heart wants. It sounds like such sappy bullshit, but my heart wants him. And I should have expected all of this from him, and I did, and now I just feel stupid."

"You're not stupid, for following what your heart wanted. You're brave for letting yourself follow it." Wanda says, pausing for a moment. "What did he do? Why does it hurt now?"

"He pushes me away, at every turn. And with every step we make, he pulls away. He always comes back. But he always leaves again, too."

Wanda stops, only to stub out her cigarette.

"And you aren't happy?"

"No, I'm—well, I don't know. I don't know what I am, or what I want." Darcy answers, as she finishes her wine. "I know I need to figure it out. And I know I like him, but it's hard because I don't always know what he wants. I thought I knew, but I'm not so sure. He panics, and I see it, and I don't know."

"You should give him time. To think, and figure out what it is he wants." she tells her soon. "Then come back to it. And if he does not want the things you do, then I think you should find what you need for yourself. Leave him to his thoughts, to his decision, and if he comes back then it's meant to be. And if he doesn't come back? Then you will find what you're looking for in yourself, and maybe one day in someone else."

Darcy turns to her, a smile growing on her lips. "Dude, you are seriously good at dishing out advice. Maybe you're the one who can read minds."

"You deserve to be happy, Darcy. I don't know you, but I know this. And I hope you find this happiness with him. But if you don't, then you will find it in yourself and in someone else."

"You're so wise. I feel like—already, I can see this is gonna be the start of an awesome friendship." she smiles, nudging Wanda's arm lightly. "I am so glad we were both sitting out there today, because this crappy night has totally turned around for me."

"Me too."

"I'm so glad to hear that. And thank you, for listening to my boy trouble. If you want to do the same, I'm totally here for you. I will just go grab us some Pop-tarts, and then we can really get into this."

There's a man, she thinks, briefly. It is nothing, but he's still on her mind, and Wanda isn't sure what to make of it all. She says nothing and just smiles, then finishes her glass of wine, while Darcy leaves to pull a few things from her fridge. She soon starts to think about tonight and how surprised she is that the smile on her lips is so real, but for a fleeting second she still finds herself thinking about him.

"So more wine?" Darcy calls back. "And we really need to talk about your style, girl. Okay? Because I am borrowing that whole outfit ASAP."

* * * *

There's something bright playing on the TV when Wanda returns. She comes back smelling of cigarettes and Darcy's perfume, after their hug good-bye. She walks into the apartment with a little uncertainty, closing the door slowly. She's drunk, and she hasn't been this drunk in a while, so she's a little off balance. Wanda fiddles with the lock until it finally shuts, and then there's a voice behind her and when she turns around she finds Clint. He's standing there with his arms folded over his chest, and a deep frown creased over his face. She doesn't think too much about why he's looking at her the way he is. She thinks maybe three glasses of wine ago she might have cared, but right now she doesn't.

Wanda struggles at getting her coat off at first, and then it's off and she slings it over the coat-rack, failing the first time. Once it's hanging there, she makes her way over to the kitchen to leave her keys in the ceramic red tray on the bench—she stops before she gets there, when she forgets what else she wanted from the kitchen. Clint follows her anyway. She hears the movie still playing on the TV, but pays little attention to it as Clint steps in front of her and waits.

"What?"

He arches an eyebrow. "You're not gonna say anything?"

There's a moment when she almost answers and then she leaves, moving to the sink to fill a glass of water. Wanda fills it, leans into the bench, and drinks most of it. She rinses the glass after, then leans back into the bench again and watches as Clint follows her over, moving quietly over the floorboards.

"Well?"

"What?" she asks. "Well what, Clint?"

"You need to talk to him. You need to sort this."

Then she hears it. There's a slur to his words that she picks up on, and when she looks to the sink she notices the empty bottles and beer cans there. She knows they've been drinking and that they've probably talked about it a lot tonight. It's not something she wants to talk about anymore. She doesn't care, not tonight. She wants to sleep so she moves away, but then Clint places a soft hand to her forearm and stops her. Wanda looks up right away, and that's when Clint drops his hand and takes a step back, giving her space.

He pulls out a chair, gesturing for her to join him. Wanda takes a minute, then combs the messy strands of her back off her face as she sits down.

"Well, what is it?" Wanda asks, once she's seated. "What do I need to sort?"

"You know what it is. It's this shit with your brother." he says. "It upset him. And I know it upset you. I hate thinking you're both upset by this."

Wanda waits, watching him. "You don't know, Clint."

"Really? Because I was with him after. All night I listened to him talk about how he felt." Clint explains, leaning closer. He pauses, dragging a hand across his tired face. "You both said things you didn't mean, and I think—"

"I said nothing I didn't mean."

"Okay, listen..You gotta give me something to work with, sweetheart." he sighs again. "Alright? You both said things that hurt each other, then. How's that? And now it's time to step up and do something about it. Talk it out with him. You need to. You can't pretend like it's gonna go away. That's not how it works."

Wanda's gaze feels heavy, and a little cold suddenly.

"You think I do not know how it works?" she asks, leaning forward. "He is my brother. I have known him for my entire life. I have loved him since we were born. I know how he works. I know how this works. I do not need you to sit here and tell me how this works, or how I am supposed to feel."

"Alright, look, I'm not—I'm not trying to step in, where I'm not wanted. Okay? And I'm not doing either of those things. But I'm just trying to tell you that you're both similar. You're both stubborn, and good, and you want to take care of each other. Don't let this ruin things. He's your best-friend. I know you're his, too. So remember that. At the end of it all, this fight won't matter."

"Zašto radiš to? Želiš da budem nesretan?" she tells him, stopping only to breathe in sharply. "Sretan sam. Želim biti sretan umjesto da budem poput tebe."

It feels like the words hurt her, even as she says them. She feels them, burning. Her eyes burn. She doesn't wipe them. It passes. Wanda's gaze stays on Clint as he stares at her waiting for an explanation, and it's then that she understands her brother hasn't told him this. He doesn't know what it means. He doesn't know why her heart hurts to hear these words.

Wanda pulls away, leaning back into her chair.

"You don't know what he said? He asked me why? Why did I want him to be unhappy?" she says soon, looking at him for a second. "I only want him to be healthy, and happy, and safe. And this is what he asks me. He asks me why I want this? And then he tells me that he wants to be happy, instead of being like me."

He didn't know. It's clear now. Clint drags a hand over his face then leans forward, trying to stay close because she knows from the way he's looking at her that he feels it. He feels her pulling back, from this, from them, and he's trying to hold on to something he doesn't want them to lose.

"I didn't know that. But he did tell me he felt bad." he sighs. "Wanda, he's trying to do something for himself. I know you're worried, but you don't need to be. He won't be in danger. You have my word."

She looks away from him again, far away, and over to the light coming from the television that's seeping out all over the darkness. It distracts her, but not for too long. She's left waiting to find the words before she voices them. Wanda thinks of Pietro's words, and Darcy's, and then her own. It comes together slowly, and she lets it because she just wants this conversation to be over.

"It is not my life. If he wants to do this, it is his choice."

"He only wants to do what's right. And he feels like this is it. You gotta understand—"

"I understand it perfectly." Wanda pushes herself up from her chair. "And now we're done, yes?"

He sighs, moving to follow her. "Wanda."

"Move. I am tired, and I do not want to talk about this."

"Just wait, okay? One sec. That's all I'm asking for. Just hear me out, then I'll never bring it up again." Clint says, voice warm, and low. "You two will have to talk about it eventually. Please remember that. He loves you. And he just wants to do this for himself, and for you. You just have to see that, right? And I know he already sees the things he said were wrong. He feels really bad, for upsetting you. So please just think about it calmly, and think about talking to him in the morning."

She feels the tiredness run over her now. It seeps into her. Wanda stares away, stares ahead, for the longest time, before she eventually drags her gaze back to Clint's. It's obvious now that he cares, and that's about all she can take away from the way he's looking at her. He cares about helping them, and he wants things to be better for both of them. Wanda sighs, shutting her eyes as she reaches on to a chair nearby to hold.

"It is not my life. It is his to live how he wants. I see this, I always have." Wanda says soon. "Now please, enough for tonight. I need to sleep."

When her eyes open half a second later, Clint's still there. He's waiting like he wants to say more, but she leaves before he can. She leaves and finds the quiet of her room to be a calming place. Wanda climbs into bed, shoes and all. She pulls up one of her throw rugs over her and settles into the darkness, and the comfort of her large, soft bed. She leaves the lights above the bed off and keeps the curtains closed, to keep the moonlight out. It's mostly dark and tonight she likes it this way.

She feels like she could slip away into the darkness and float there. She wants to. Wanda imagines how it would feel to exist there and to float, in nothing, and to just be away from reality. It leaves her craving what she doesn't have. She wants weed, and a bath, and she wants to find balance, and she can't. Her eyes shut tighter now when she starts to think about his words again and it hurts. It feels heavy in her chest, in a way that even a good night spent with a new friend can't help. She's not sure that there's any escape from it tonight—until there's a knock at her door that wakes her up from it all.

Wanda doesn't want to talk to Clint again, so she ignores it. She pretends like she doesn't hear it and leaves it, half-buried under her blankets. Then he knocks again, and again, and she leaves it. She leans forward, kicks off her shoes, and settles back in. Her eyes shut, and she realizes now that they feel heavy and tired. She fights the feelings that want to catch up to her and she stays there, sleepy in the darkness.

"Wanda, jesi li budna?"

She props her head up to find Pietro by the door. He's hovering between the door-frame. She watches him lingering there and frowns a little.

"Jesam. Zašto?"

"Can I come in?" he calls back.

It feels too late, and she feels too tired. Wanda sighs and stretches back down, feeling the weariness growing inside of her. It's fresh, and deep, and she feels like it's one of those nights where she can't ignore it. She closes her eyes, leaving him waiting by the door.

"Sestra?"

Wanda closes her eyes, harder. "Umorna sam."

He doesn't leave the space by the cracked open door.

"Please." Pietro says. "Nisam spavao. Ne mogu."

Then she decides that he hears her sigh again, because he walks into the room anyway and leaves the door half-open. Pietro is quiet as he moves over the floor, and soon he's near Wanda's bed. He perches on the edge of it, then stretches out to rest on the bed next to her. He pulls the blankets up with her as he moves to join her, fixing them, and tucking her in so she's warm and covered. Wanda opens her eyes but says nothing, not for a while. It feels like hours before she speaks again.

"Why can't you sleep?" she asks him. "What is it?"

"It is what happened before."

She says nothing and waits for him to leave, but he doesn't. Wanda feels tired still, and she wants this to be over, but she knows he will not leave now until it is. Pietro stays close behind her, and for so long he is so quiet that she wonders if he's sleeping, but he isn't.

"Please say something, Sestra."

Wanda sighs, opening her eyes to the darkness.

"Umorna sam, ne želim razgovarati o tome."

"I know, I do. And I am sorry. I know you are tired, but I wanted to be here. I had to tell you I was sorry." Pietro explains quietly. "I wanted you to know that I was sorry, and that I was angry when I said those things. And I did not mean them. If it means this much, I will not take this job."

"Piet, I do not want to talk about this now, or ever again. This is your life, not mine. This is all I have to say."

A few minutes later, Pietro moves on the bed and she thinks he is leaving. Then she feels him move close and put an arm around her to hug her, to hold her like when they were little kids. Her eyes close slowly and she remembers holding on to him when they were younger, and smaller, and all they had left in the world.

"Volim te. Žao mi je zbog onoga što sam rekao."

I love you, he tells her, I'm sorry. Wanda breathes in sharply, eyes opening to the darkness again. Pietro stays close, holding her, and keeping her warm and protected like he's always wanted to. She stretches out to find his hand, then holds on lightly.

"I want you to be happy. This is all I want. How could think this is not what I want?" she says quietly. "Your happiness matters more to me than anything else. I thought you knew this."

Pietro holds her a little tighter. "I know, and I am sorry. I have always known it. Wanda, I am—what I said, I should not have said. And I did not mean it."

"I only wish for you to be happy."

"What of yourself? I want this for you, too. I do not want to be the reason you are not happy. And I do not want you to think I meant what I said."

"You are not why. And I am not unhappy, I am just.."

Tired, she thinks. Weary. Older. She says none of this, but Pietro already knows and she decides then that her brother is much more aware of things than she sometimes thinks he is. He hugs her tighter, then moves a hand to brush her hair lightly, like their mother used to, and like he did when they were children and their mother was gone. For a while they are like this, and in the quiet she knows his closeness says more than words ever will.

"I do not want you to be unhappy because of me." Wanda tells him gently. "What I want is for us both to be happy."

"I am sorry, for what I said. For all I said. I am happy, except when we are fighting or when you are upset with me."

Wanda sighs, squeezing her eyes shut. "Be happy. If you want this, then you must do your job. But be safe, please. Always be safe."

"Da, hocu. Uvijek cu biti na sigurnom." he promises sweetly, while stroking her hair softly. "Toliko te volim, sestro moja."

She takes it in slowly, a hand still loosely clutched to Pietro's hand. She thinks of it all, of what happened those night ago, and then of their past, and she knows it is not worth fighting now. It is over, she decides, squeezing his hand. They are in this together, and they always will be, and all of the little things don't matter at all compared to what he means to her and how much she loves him.

"Hvala, dragi brate." Wanda tells him. "I ja tebe volim"