i know places

The clock by the bed tells Wanda that it's just after 6 when she jolts awake in bed, startled by the sound of someone knocking on her window. At first she's convinced that it's all in her head and she's dreaming, that or it's an old memory coming back to her. But when she turns to find Bucky stirring awake by her side she knows that it's real and that whatever it is, whoever it is, it's coming from the kitchen. She wants to go, to climb to her feet and follow the noise, but for the first minute after she wakes she can't move. She can only stay where she is, watching as Bucky rises in the bed next to her, his hair messy, his eyes still half shut.

She wants to soak it in, to let herself think about the way he looks in the morning light, but she can't. Her breathing is too heavy, her head too foggy from last night, and he seems to understand that almost right away. When he turns to her, he must know that something is going on, that this noise, whatever it is, has startled her, and he springs into action.

Bucky's up on his feet in seconds, eyes quickly scanning the room before he looks back at her. She wants to tell him that it's probably nothing, just her brother or Pietro being silly, but she knows that this isn't them. That whatever this noise is, it's too early to be them. So she says nothing and watches Bucky kneel by the bed, his dark hair disheveled and curly at the ends, as he leans down out of sight and then quickly gets back to his feet, her guitar now in his hands to use at a weapon.

Wanda wants to tell him that he won't need it, that it was probably a bird, or just a neighbor at the wrong window. But she still can't find the words, she can't do much but watch as Bucky throws her a look over his shoulder and then turns away, taking three quiet steps to the door before his fingers curl around the handle and he opens it. She joins him then, pushing back the covers of her bed and rushing to his side. Why? she doesn't know, isn't really sure what she plans to do, after she finds her way to his side and hides behind him, staying there until he opens the door and takes a step out of her room.

It takes her about three seconds after the door is open to realize what's going on. She still doesn't really understand it, but with just one look out at the apartment, at the window by the kitchen, she discovers where the noise is coming from and who is causing it. Bucky immediately drops the guitar, as confused as Wanda is to find Darcy out on the fire-escape, dressed in a coat and a dark beanie, knocking on the window at 6 o'clock in the morning.

"Darcy?" Bucky frowns, eyes dark.

He sounds confused, as confused as she is about why Darcy is here, but that isn't what Wanda focuses on. He knows her name, knows her, and she almost wants to ask how but for now she decides against it. She says nothing and walks past Bucky, over to the window where she begins to push it open to let Darcy into the apartment and out of the cold morning air. Before it's even halfway open Darcy is leaning through it, talking to them like this is normal and not at all weird.

"Hey guys, sorry for waking you. I would have text you, Wanda, but I didn't get get your number." Darcy pauses, faintly smiling. "I won't stay long, I don't want to interrupt anything that you two were up to, it's just—"

Whatever follows that, whatever else Darcy says, Wanda doesn't hear. She hears only one thing and that is the sound of her brother's bedroom door opening. It's then that she spins around, turning away from Darcy and to Bucky, who she doesn't hesitate to shove back into her room. He opens his mouth to protest but quickly understands what is happening and steps back into the room, closing the door once he's inside. He disappears just as Clint and Pietro join them over by the window, where Darcy is now leaning somewhat awkwardly against it, a curious smile across her face. For now she says nothing about Wanda shoving Bucky back into her room, and something tells Wanda that she won't, not until later.

She finds a small relief in that.

"What the hell's going on?" Clint calls out, beginning to frown. "Wait, what? Darcy? Am I dreaming this?"

Pietro is just as lost as Clint is, just as lost as she still is. He quickly joins her side, his eyes blurry, light-hair a mess of curls, as he frowns at the stranger standing on his fire-escape for no reason at all, so early in the morning.

"Sestro, što se događa?" Pietro asks tiredly. "Zašto je tako bučno?"

Tense, and still out of breath, she turns towards him. Wanda doesn't want him here, doesn't want either of them here, because she knows Darcy isn't here to see them. Whatever this is about, she's here to see Wanda and that's why she doesn't want them around for this. She can see that they're both annoyed at being up so early, and being startled by a strange noise at the window. She knows it will be best for everyone if they just go back to bed and pretend this never happened.

"Nije ništa. Ne brini."

It's nothing, she promises, him and herself. Don't worry.

Pietro sighs, still irritated. "Tako rano. Što se događa?"

"Nothing." Wanda replies, voice firmer. "Go back to bed, okay?"

She doesn't expect him to listen but he does. Pietro glances the three of them over slowly then pads back to his room, leaving the door ajar for Clint as he disappears back inside, likely to collapse back underneath the covers and spend the next five or six hours sleeping. Clint doesn't follow him though, not that she expected him to go just yet. She knows why, and it's not just because he needs his coffee. He's worried about her, about both of them, and he doesn't plan on leaving until he finds out what this is about.

"So if this isn't a dream, then what the hell are you doing here?" he pauses, stopping to yawn. "I mean, no offense. You're great, really. But the timing is just—It's early. It's too early, Darcy. And my brain is just not processing this right now. So..?"

"Okay, I know. I'm sorry. But like I was starting to tell Wanda, I just had to see her and I didn't have her number so I couldn't text her." Darcy smiles, leaning through the window. "I start work in like half an hour and I'm already late, and I have errands to run after, so I just didn't have any time and I'm sorry. I should have come by last night, but I was out and didn't get home until really late so I couldn't give her the message."

"Alright, alright." Clint's quick to answer. "Just, what message? What do you need to tell Wanda? What was so urgent?"

"It's more like..I need a favor."

It still makes no sense to Wanda, why Darcy is here or what she wants, but she says nothing, instead watching Clint as he takes a few steps over towards the kitchen. She can see that he's done with this situation, whatever it is, and now that he knows there's nothing to be worried about he's off to grab some coffee. Wanda knows that it's hard for him to sleep sometimes, that he struggles with falling back to sleep after he wakes, and she's the same. It's why she stops him before he disappears into the kitchen, calling out in a voice that feels too quiet to be her own, especially after last night and the hours she spent with Bucky, growing so close and so comfortable to him.

"Can I get some coffee?" she calls out across the apartment. "Two cups, please. I had a late night."

Clint nods, not turning back.

"Alright, I'm just—Coffee. Right. Coffee."

He leaves them after this and it's only as she turns back to the window that she realizes Darcy is still out there, standing in the cold morning air. Wanda quickly rushes over to the window, pushing it open enough for Darcy to climb through and down into the apartment. Once she's through she sighs and takes a few steps towards the kitchen, giving Wanda the chance to shut the window and close the lock at the top.

When she's done she turns back to Darcy, trying to read her, to know what she's doing here and what favor she needs. If Darcy needs her help, if this really is so urgent, then Wanda wants to try and help however she can. Despite the way she feels, so foggy, still out of breath, she's trying not to let this put her in a bad mood because she knows if Darcy is here so early that it must be for a reason

"I'm so sorry for waking you. I just had a lot on today and I didn't have anyone else to turn to." Darcy explains, wringing her purse together in her hands. "So, okay. There's this thing for a friend. It's a job, sorta. But I can't do it, and I can't not do it because she's been going through a lot this last year and I don't want to let her down. You know?"

Wanda wants to nod, to say that she understands and to agree to whatever this is, but she still doesn't get it. She blinks slowly, feeling as if she is half-asleep and missing something obvious.

"I don't know what you're asking me."

"Sometimes I babysit for friends. And this kid, he's not a baby. He's like 15, or 16, so still a kid but not a teeny tiny kid. Okay, my point is that I'm supposed to hang out with him today because he's not in school for a little while. He's having a really hard time. It's for his Aunt, it was supposed to be just a couple hours this afternoon, but I can't because this thing came up at work and there's literally no one else at such short notice. So I just thought, maybe.."

At first she doesn't know what to think, because it's not exactly what she expected Darcy to be asking for after knocking so loudly on her window at 6 in the morning. It feels like an odd thing to ask of a stranger but there's still something in her that wants to help out. She thinks it's always been in her, that part of her that wants to help, that always will. She just forgot about it for a while until now.

Still, she feels torn.

"I don't know. Are you sure?" she asks, voice quiet. "I don't know them, and I don't know about this. It feels strange."

"Don't worry, really. I told her about you, and she's fine with it." Darcy assures her, stopping only to pull something from her purse. "Here, I have her number. And his. If you have any questions, you can ask her—"

"Darcy, I don't know. I don't know how I feel about this."

Her face softens and she takes a small step closer. "I know, it's weird. We barely know each other, you don't even know them. But I'm desperate, and there's no one else I could ask. I mean, you just seem like you have your shit together. And you wouldn't even have to go anywhere. The kid, he comes here to my apartment. We just stay in. He does his homework, we get pizza. You just have to stay in and watch a movie, that's all I'm asking."

Wanda spends a minute thinking it over, as she drags her fingers through the long strands of her hair and tries to work out the knots. She feels like she already knows what her answer will be, feels like she's always known. She doesn't really want to say no, not to Darcy, not to someone who seems to be in a difficult situation and needs her help. She still doesn't know if this is the best idea but she decides to just hear it out.

"What time? And for how long?" Wanda asks. "I have work tomorrow, I need to get enough sleep for that."

Darcy's face lights up. "He comes by around 11:30, stays until 6 or 7. Is that okay? Does that mean you'll think about it?"

With a sigh, she agrees. "Yes, I'll do it. But please, never ever do that again."

Smiling, the dark-haired woman embraces her. "I won't, I promise. You're seriously the best, Wanda. I just can't thank you enough. I mean really, I can't. I don't know how to thank you."

For a second she almost lets herself sink into the hug, almost lets herself enjoy it, but she still feels too stiff, too out of breath, to let herself enjoy it. She stays where she is anyway, watching as Darcy takes a step away, still smiling, eyes so bright and thankful. Before she has the chance to say anything, Clint calls out from over in the kitchen, reminding Wanda that he's still here and is apparently a part of the conversation again.

"You can thank me by never, ever doing that again." he calls out. "Just knock on the door, okay? Like a normal person. Or just slide a note under the door? Or, I don't know. Call me, okay? Just never ever do that again. Sound good?"

"Sure, no problem. I got it. Never again. You got it." she grins, glancing between the two of them. "Here is any information you might need. Phone numbers, all of that. And here's the money for pizza, or whatever you want. It'll be fun, he's a good kid. Trust me."

She nods and takes the small piece of paper, her eyes scanning over the names and numbers scribbled on to it. Then she begins to walk Darcy over to the door, wanting to get some sleep, or maybe have a bath, before 11:30 rolls around. She wants to feel good about this, to not be so worried, so tired, and she hopes that a bath and maybe some coffee will help her to feel better, or at least get her out of the mood she fears she's beginning to fall into.

"He's coming at 11:30?"

"Yep. My spare key is in the purse with the cash. Help yourself to whatever you want in the fridge." Darcy says, pauses, then smiles a little more. "Might be better just to get some pizza. I wish I could stay and talk more but I'm already late. So, thank you again. My number's on the note if you need me. I'm gonna make this up to you, I swear. We'll have the best time, okay?"

Wanda nods, watching her as she steps out of the apartment and into the hallway. It only dawns on her when Darcy's half-way down the stairs that she doesn't know who she's going to be spending the afternoon with.

"Darcy, wait." she calls out. "You didn't tell me his name."

"Oh, it's Peter. Peter Parker."

Then she disappears, waving at Wanda as she runs down the stairs like she was never here at all. But the heavy purse in Wanda's hand is a reminder that she was, that this wasn't a dream or a memory. The dreams stay with her though, even after she returns to the kitchen to find Clint sitting at the table, a mug of coffee clutched between his two hands. Something about the way he glances up at her tells her that it won't be his last coffee of the morning, just the first of many. The thought then reminds her of Bucky in her room and she decides to check in on him before she grabs their coffees from the kitchen.

Wanda peeks her head into the room, placing Darcy's purse and small yellow note on the table by the bed. She doesn't find Bucky in her bed though, or anywhere in her room. She finds him in the bathroom again, the door shut, the water running. But when she takes a step closer, she realizes that it sounds like he's talking on the phone. She decides not to interrupt him and leaves, returning to the kitchen to get their coffees from the table.

For now she decides to join Clint, giving Bucky a few minutes to finish up his call. She eases herself down into the chair slowly, still feeling like she's holding in a breath. She doesn't try to let it out and instead she reaches for the warm mug on the table, trying to enjoy the warm beverage as it runs down her throat.

"You sure I'm not still dreaming?" Clint asks by her side, a minute later. "Because this all feels like a dream. But one of the really crappy dreams, you know? The really crappy ones."

She nods, curling her fingers tight around the cup as she lets herself think about it. She knows what he means because she is used to those dreams, because she was so convinced that this was going to be one of them. But it wasn't. Wanda reminds herself of this, four or five times, before she stops for another sip of the hot beverage and this time she lets herself enjoy the taste, lets herself enjoy the warmth of the mug seeping into her fingers. By the time she looks up at Clint again she finds him watching her in that obvious way of his that lets her know he's trying to get a read on her, but he's too tired to really focus and he quickly gives up.

"What?" she asks anyway, curious.

"You know that you don't have to do it, right?" Clint points out, smiling slowly. "You don't have to do it just 'cause you feel like you should."

Wanda hesitates, wiggling back into her chair. "You heard Darcy, she is out of options and this kid is having a hard time. I don't mind to help."

"I'm not talking about Darcy. I meant the farm." he explains, voice softer as he places the coffee aside. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do it just because we asked. Because you don't. You have a choice, kid. You can say no."

A choice, she thinks it over, bringing the coffee back to her lips. Sometimes she feels this way, like she has a choice in what happens to her and where her life takes her. Then there are the moments she doubts it, that she can't see that she has a choice at all, and the realization sends her spiraling deep into old memories and decisions. Bad choices, and good ones, and the ones she never made at all.

She finds herself torn between thoughts of Vision, and Stark's party, and that walk home after work. You have a choice, she plays it over, again and again, as she begins to think about her secret that she has kept from her brother, the one she burdened Clint with, what she even keeps from herself sometimes. She doesn't know if she ever had a choice to keep it to herself, to lie to her brother, because it never really felt like she did.

"It isn't like that." Wanda clears her throat. "With you, it isn't like that. It is different, okay?"

"Oh yeah. Why's that?" he asks, an eyebrow raised. "It is 'cause you're a big softy who secretly loves me?"

Wanda doesn't know why but she laughs. She welcomes the feeling, the brief distraction from the tightness in her chest and the thoughts circling around in her mind. She appreciates Clint's company and his jokes more than she can say, not that she actually thinks this was meant to be a joke, or meant to make her laugh this hard. Still it does and afterwards her smile lingers, small but warm.

"Do you want me to do it or not, Clint?"

"Yeah, I do. For us, and also for you. For all of us." he pauses, smiling. "I thought it could be good for you. A nice break from the city. Also, the animals are cute. You know they can be good for things like that, too."

At first she wants to believe that she doesn't know what he means but she does know, she's always known. Clint is too obvious, he cares too much, so she knows right away what he means by that. He's talking about that night. Her bruises, her lies, her guilt. He knows more than anyone else does about what happened, he knows what happened even when her brother doesn't know, and she thinks this is why he's still trying to help her in his own small ways. In ways he wishes Pietro could, ways she also wishes that he could. But today, after the way she woke, it doesn't help at all.

"What do you mean?" she asks, despite already knowing. "What things?"

"You know, just things." Clint hesitates. "Stress, trauma. Things like that."

Wanda wants to leave now, to walk away from this, and she almost does. But Clint's hand flies out before she can push her chair out, and she doesn't pull away, not at first. She stays, steady in her chair, as Clint gently places his hand on top of hers, not grabbing on to her hand, not keeping here but just showing her that he's here and that he doesn't want her to leave when things are like this.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant—"

"I don't care what way you meant it." Wanda snaps, harsher than she means. "I'm not stressed, I'm fine. And I'm going back to bed now. Thank you for the coffee."

Seconds later she gets up to her feet, Clint's hand falling away from where it was on hers, as she scoops up both cups of coffee and starts to move away. But he follows and she thinks that she always knew he would. Clint takes a step with her as he does, following her but not crowding her. He gives her space but stays close enough to let her know that he's here, that he didn't mean to upset or offend her. He didn't, not really. It's just that she feels so lost lately, she isn't sure how to feel about any of this.

"Wanda, hey. I didn't mean it like that. Okay, kid?" he says softly, staying by her side. "I just meant with what happened, I thought it might be therapeutic. Or some shit like that. At least that's what I've heard. Not that I'd know. Because I don't. I don't know, alright? I'm just trying to help. I don't always know how but I'm trying."

"I don't need that. I don't need your help, or your animals." Wanda answers, still sharp. "That isn't why I was doing this. I wanted to do it to help, so you could have a holiday. That is all it ever was, okay?"

Clint nods, accepting her words. "Sure, I'm just..I'm sorry. It's so early, you know me. I can't get anything right this early, not without coffee." he says and then smiles, taking a step back towards the table. "So I'm sorry. Let's forget I said that and talk about something else. Come and sit with me? How was your night? Get up to anything fun?"

Wanda hesitates, thinking it over for a long time. For a moment she considers staying, because there's still something inside of her that wants to sit, and have coffee, and talk for a while, because usually talking with him helps to distract her. But there's a part of her that can't, that is tired and wants to escape into her room because it knows that if she sits with Clint she'll think about all of the reasons that he's right and all of the wrong choices she's made. That's why in the end she decides to leave, because it will be easier for both of them if this conversation ends here.

"It was long and I'm tired now." she answers, stepping away. "Thank you for the coffee. I will see you later."

"Sure, no problem. See you tonight?"

She hums her answer, a quiet yes, before she slips away into her bedroom with the two coffees in her hands and closes the door once she's inside. Only then does she feel herself let out a breath, her eyes shut for the briefest moment until she becomes aware of Bucky's presence. She hears him first, the sound of his soft breaths, his figure nearby, and then she opens her eyes to find him sitting on the edge of her bed, looking much more alert than he did before. His face is damp again, his hair slicked back off his face, and his eyes are surprisingly clear for someone who had as little sleep as he did last night.

When he notices the coffee in her hands, he smiles.

"Thanks." he sighs, taking the cup she offers. "How'd things go with Darcy?"

Wanda shrugs, easing herself down on to bed next to him. She ends up sitting with her legs crossed, the half-empty coffee cup clutched between her hands. She doesn't quite know how to answer that, how to say anything to Bucky right now, so she doesn't. She stays quiet, watching Bucky as he drinks a small sip of the warm beverage and then places it down on his lap, a hand still curled around it as he looks up at her.

She doesn't know what it is, doesn't know if it's just in her head, but he seems different. She knows that he must be looking at her and thinking the same thing, that she seems different, that she is so different to the way that she was last night, and she knows that she is. Wanda doesn't mean to be, doesn't mean to let all of this get to her, but it does and she can't help it now. She knows that it will stay on her mind all morning, even if all she wants to do is sit here with him and forget about everything for a while.

"Should I ask how things are?" Bucky pauses, smile still sort of there. "Things sounded..Tense? Maybe, I dunno. I'm probably half deaf anyway."

"It wasn't, it was fine." Wanda answers, glancing up at him. "What about you? The call, I mean. I didn't hear, I just stepped in for a moment."

"Oh, that? That was nothing. What'd Darcy want so early?"

Wanda hesitates for a moment then moves, leaving to place her coffee on a small table nearby. She swaps the warm drink for an aspirin, finding one in a drawer by her bed. She doesn't feel like coffee now, doesn't feel like doing all that much really. She thinks that a bath might help her feel better, might get her out of her head for a while, but at the same time she doesn't want Bucky to leave just yet. She knows he probably has plans for his morning, but there's still a part of her that hopes he might stay for a while.

"Nothing, just a favor." Wanda answers belatedly, half-way to the bathroom. "I'm sure you heard most of it."

"Yeah, most." he calls back.

And then nothing.

It shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't feels so quiet, so different, but it does. She tries to ignore it and steps into the bathroom, to drink a mouthful of water from the tap and then swallow the aspirin down. She spends a minute longer in there when she's done, her fingers curled around the basin, eyes glued on her reflection, as the quiet creeps in. Why? she wants to ask, to know why he is so quiet, why it feels like this between them now when things were so good last night.

For now she says nothing and returns to her room, finding Bucky still sitting on the edge of her bed, the mostly untouched coffee resting on his lap. There's something on his mind again, this she can see, but it's different today and she knows it. This time it feels like it's something he doesn't want to share with her. At first she wonders if it was his phone-call, whoever he was talking to, and then she begins to question if he heard her conversation with Clint, heard more than she wanted him to, about her trauma, her stress.

She soon decides that he didn't, that if he had then he would have said something, that he wouldn't be like this. So that means it must be the call, must be whoever was on the other end of his call. She feels curious and wants to ask but she decides to take her time, to not rush into that question and to give him a minute to tell her about what's on his mind if that's what he wants to do.

"Um, I need a bath. I think. I won't get much sleep now." Wanda sighs, combing her fingers through the ends of her hair again. "You can sleep here if you want, if you need to get some rest. Or you could just sit with your coffee and read, or listen to music. There's an iPOD in the drawer by the bed. It's one of Clint's old ones. The music is..Mostly good."

Bucky half-smiles slowly, and it makes her believe that he gets it, that he understands what she is asking of him.

Stay.

It's what she wants to say but can't, what she hopes he will understand. But she soon learns that she is wrong, that it isn't as clear as she thought it was and that he isn't going to stay.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. Really nice. I'd love to, but I should go." he pauses, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "I've got this thing and I can't be late. That's all. So I should probably get to that soon."

She frowns, still fidgeting with a few strands of her hair. It shouldn't feel weird, shouldn't feel like he's trying to get out of here as quickly as he can, but it does. And that thought, that he wants to leave, that something is bothering him, catches her by surprise.

"A thing?"

Bucky nods, still perched on the end of her bed. "Yeah, it's this work thing. Well, work is later. It's this thing for work, sorta. But I should go home for a bit. Get ready for the day, you know."

For a second she thinks about saying something. She thinks about asking him what's on his mind, why he's really leaving, but she soon decides against it. She is already tired from this morning, from last night's drinks, and her dreams, and it doesn't feel like this is going to lead where she hopes that it will. So she decides that if he wants to go, that if he has a thing and if he needs some time to himself, then she won't stop him.

"Okay." she nods. "I understand."

"Okay? Great." he sighs, standing from the bed. "Can I see you later?"

Wanda stays quiet at first, watching as he steps to the side and places his coffee down on a small table by her bed. Then he returns for his jacket and shoes, shrugging his coat on and swiftly lacing up his boots. It's now that she notices that his gloves are back on and the realization makes her want to go back to last night, back to that bathroom stall when he was so open with her, back to her bed when she was open with him. But there's a voice back in her head, quiet, and always there, that tells her that they can't go back to that, not today.

"I can't do tonight, I have that favor for Darcy." she pauses, curious. "You knew her. You two know each other?"

Is that why? Wanda wants to ask, to know if this is the reason for this change between them, the reason for his silence and the distance he now seems to be putting between them. She bites her tongue, deciding to say nothing for now because she is tired and it doesn't feel like this is something that he wants to talk about right now. He wants to go and she decides to let him, hoping that it might give him a chance to clear his head and to then come back to her whenever he's ready to talk about whatever this is.

"Yeah, she's a friend of a friend." he answers, taking half a step closer. "So tonight's not good? How about tomorrow?"

"I'm working. The day after?"

He thinks about it briefly. "That's no good for me. I have another thing."

"Oh."

Bucky half-smiles but it feels like something is missing, feels so different to last night that her chest tightens at the thought and she immediately finds herself longing to go back. Back to the rides they took around the city, the walk home with his arm around her, and the hours they spent in the bar, so faraway from everything, so happy. She wants to go back to that, to do it all over again today, but she knows that they can't.

Maybe another time.

"So, we'll just..We'll work something out, alright?"

"Yes, sure." she nods, taking a step away. "I'm just going to shower now. You can let yourself out?"

His gaze is soft as it follows her, watching as she stops outside of the bathroom door. From here she can see it, that he seems conflicted, that he is torn between staying and leaving, but his mind is made up. Wanda knows that he will leave now, and that things will stay like this between them (distant, and quiet, and changed) until he finds a way to talk to her about whatever is on his mind. She believes that she already knows what it is, that it was seeing Darcy in the apartment that pushed them apart, pushed him away from her again.

She knows he never wanted this thing between them to become something. He didn't want the complications, for either of them, and he didn't want anyone else to know. And now someone knows, and it's out of their control, and she believes that it's getting to him. But until he's ready to talk about that with her, it doesn't feel like there's much that she can do.

So she lets him go, watching as he hesitates, glancing between the bedroom door and where she's standing outside of the bathroom. Then he comes over, just two or three steps, and he leans in to hug her, or maybe this is what he planned to do, but he ends up kissing her gently on the cheek before he takes a step back, his half-smile still there, still different to the one he wore last night.

"Don't worry, I'll wait 'till Clint's gone to sneak out." he smiles. "Thanks again for the coffee. And last night. Talk later?"

Wanda simply nods, watching Bucky for one more moment before she steps into her bathroom and closes the door. A few seconds after it's shut she turns away and leans back against it, her eyes shut, her hands flat by her side. She thinks that she must spend a few minutes like this before eventually she hears Bucky leave. It isn't obvious, not at all, just the small sound of her door creaking open and closing again, and then he's gone and she's left to dwell in the memories of last night that stay fresh on her mind.

* * * *

The day goes by in a blur.

Wanda spends most of it in bed, reading old books and scribbling down notes and half-finished sketches. By the time that 11:30 rolls around, she feels no better than she did this morning but she goes up to Darcy's apartment anyway, letting herself into the warm space to wait for Peter to arrive. She spends half an hour pacing the apartment and waiting for Peter to show up before he finally does, shortly after 12, late and surprised to see her answering the door.

At first she doesn't know what to think, because he isn't exactly what she expected, because when Darcy said that it was like babysitting she expected Peter to be a kid. And he is. But he's much taller than she thought he'd be and he seems older, despite his wide-eyes and soft face. He glances her over twice, still a little surprised to see her here, before he pulls off his headphones just enough to hear her speak a moment later.

"I called twice." Wanda points out, arms crossed. "You were supposed to be here at 11:30. You're late."

"And you're not Darcy."

She smiles, despite her best efforts not to. She doesn't know him, she didn't mean to worry about him as much as she did in the last half hour. Wanda knows he really wasn't that late, but she also knows that the city can be dangerous and for this afternoon she's responsible for him. That's why she's glad he's here now, and why she also decides not to be too hard on him about this.

"What gave it away?" she asks, smiling a little more.

Peter seems to immediately relax. "Well, first? The hair. But also now, the accent. Wow, that's cool. You must be Wanda, right? Hey. I'm Peter."

"I know who you are. Darcy mentioned me?"

The young boy nods, tucking his phone away into his pocket, despite leaving it attached to his headphones. From where she's standing inside the quiet apartment she can hear his music still playing. It's loud, and difficult to understand, and she almost wants to tell him what she has told her brother a hundred times, that it doesn't need to be that loud to enjoy it. She says nothing for the moment and glances Peter over briefly, only now noticing the bike helmet he's carrying in one hand and the dark back-pack slung over his left shoulder.

"Yeah, Aunt May said something. I was just.."

"Listening to those things?" Wanda lifts an eyebrow. "It is so loud. How can you hear anything over the music?"

He smiles more, amused. "I'm a kid, it's not that loud. How come everyone old—" Peter stops, swallows, then goes on. "Old—der. How come everyone older always says that it's too loud?"

Wanda smiles a little more and turns away, stepping aside to let Peter into the apartment. He follows her inside quickly, walking casually into Darcy's place like he's been here plenty of times before and she knows that he probably has. Now that he's here today she realizes that this isn't going to be hard, not at all, and she doesn't mind to sit with him for a few hours and read while he does his school work. She thinks it could even turn into a nice afternoon and that for a few hours she could use a distraction from her own life.

"There's food in the fridge if you're hungry. Do you want something to eat?"

"I'm okay, I know where the fridge is if I want anything. Thanks anyway." Peter pauses, dropping his bag down onto the couch. "You know, you don't really have to be here. I'm fifteen, I don't need a sitter."

For now she says nothing, watching Peter as he pulls a pile of books from his bag and carries them over to the bench in the kitchen. She remembers it from where she sat with Darcy that afternoon, drinking wine and eating chocolate and pop-tarts. Wanda soon finds her own way there, dragging out one of the stools at the bench and sitting down, next to the books and glass of water she set out earlier. She's only sitting down for a moment before she leaves, up on her feet to grab the bowl of berries from the fridge that she brought with her.

"I'm pretty sure Aunt May just sends me over here every few weeks because she likes Darcy." Peter says a while later, now leaning against the side of the bench. "And she thinks all students are poor and could use the extra money. Also, I think she thinks if I spend enough time around Darcy I'll want to get my own internship or something like that."

Wanda nods along, placing the small bowl on the bench and then climbing back up onto the sleek stool. Her eyes flicker up to Peter now, where he stands by the bench for another minute before he pulls out a seat and plops down on to it, like he's planning on doing all of his homework here in the seat across from hers. She doesn't mind the company, she just hopes he doesn't expect her to be much help.

"I'm not a student, and I'm not leaving." she says soon, pausing to pop a berry into her mouth. "Maybe you don't need a sitter, but Darcy asked me to stay. So we're staying here, okay?"

He shrugs and glances away, to the books and pencils scattered across the bench. Peter quickly sorts them out into piles and opens up a book, flicking tiredly through the pages before he looks up at her again, and for a moment she wants to ask him where he was for the last half hour and why he's not in school today. She quickly decides against asking her questions and pushes aside her curiosity, watching Peter as he starts to tap his pencil against the counter.

"Yeah, that's fine. I've got a ton of homework to do anyway." Peter answers, pauses, then stands from his chair. "So, you're not a student like Darcy. What do you do then? Wait, let me guess. Actually, I'm not great at guessing. What's your job?"

"I work at a bar."

"Really? Cool." he grins. "That's so weird. I was gonna say that."

Wanda smiles, amused again, as she watches him walk over to the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. After grabbing the water from the fridge he lingers by it like he's searching through it, looking for the perfect snack. He ends up walking away with just the water, but on the way he stops by a bowl of fruit near the sink and scoops up an apple, carrying it back over to the bench where he sinks down onto the swivel chair, looking as curious as he did when he arrived just minutes ago.

"Really?"

"Yeah, maybe." he nods. "Maybe after a few guesses, or something."

Slowly she lets herself smile more. "What was your first guess?"

She doesn't know why she asks, why she even cares, but she can't help it. Maybe it's as simple as wanting a distraction, or maybe it's because she can see that something is going on with Peter and that he might be looking for a distraction, or someone new to talk to for a little while, just to take his mind off things.

"Hmm. Probably teacher. I don't know why. Just a guess." he answers, curious, as he smiles again. "So hey, how do you even know Darcy by the way? She's pretty cool. I guess I'm lucky Aunt May likes her and wants me to spend time here. She knows a lot of stuff."

Wanda thinks it over, not sure how to answer at first. She doesn't want to talk about the night she met Darcy, the night she argued with her brother and drank too much wine. That feels too complicated, too messy, so eventually she works out a way to answer while keeping the messy parts out of it.

"I live in the apartment underneath hers."

Soon after Peter glances away, still smiling as his gaze flickers across the apartment they're sitting in. He looks back to her eventually, still curious, still smiling warmly at her, and Wanda doesn't know why but she feels the same way with him that she did with Darcy the first time they met. He seems kind, and good, and it feels like it's been a long time since she met someone like that.

It feels like it's been even longer since she met someone that was filled with so much energy, so much life, that he is so clearly bursting with. It's just something she can see in him, something she remembers seeing before. Once, in her brother. Wanda remembers that clearly. Her brother's life, his energy, his happiness. She remembers when he was so much younger and life was simpler for both of them. Pietro is still this way now, he is still filled with endless love, and warmth, and energy, but he isn't exactly as he was when he was younger and she knows he never will be.

Wanda knows that she is changed, too.

She doesn't mean to think about it, to dwell on her brother and all that he has survived, all that has changed him. But she does, and she doesn't find her way out of it until the sound of Peter's soft voice brings her back, out of her head and back to the apartment, to where the memories of her brother feel bittersweet. She tries to let them go and lifts her head, focusing her attention back on the energetic teenager sitting across from her.

"Nice, that's cool. Does your place look like this? Darcy has a great TV. And lots of games, too." he pauses, tapping his pencil against his book again. "Hey, so we could probably play one later if you wanted. Or maybe not, I don't know what time May is coming around. But we could probably still play something after I finish up my homework, if you want to.."

Wanda considers it, smiling slowly again. She's never been very good at games, never really had the time to learn how to play them, but she decides that if there is time this afternoon then she might give it go. For now she plans to focus on her book, that or on the small sketches she spent the morning working on and then gave up on. While she's doing that, it will give Peter time to do his school work and maybe after that they will have pizza and play a game or two.

"Darcy has an X-box, too. That's pretty fun. And there's this really cool arcade nearby—"

"Do your work first, then we will see. Okay?"

Peter nods, turning his focus back to his school work. But again, it doesn't last. She doesn't know why, doesn't know if it's because he's bored of the work or if he's just curious, but he soon ends up glancing up at her again, fidgeting with his pencil and tapping it against his book again. She suddenly finds herself wanting to know again, why he's here, why he's not in school. She knows it must be important, must have something to do with his family or maybe his friends. Wanda quickly reminds herself that it doesn't involve her and she tries to turn her attention back to her book.

That doesn't last either.

"Hey, Wanda? Why are you doing this?" Peter asks minutes later. "I mean, why did Darcy ask you to be here? She could have asked anyone. She asked you. Why?"

"I don't know," she admits. "I think she trusted me."

Over in his seat, Peter hums a quiet reply and glances back down at his book, done with his apple and with tapping his pencil against his book. From where she's sitting she can see that he's trying to focus but he seems distracted, and it's only now that she notices something that she missed before when she was so caught up in her worries of him being late. It's something that's just visible under the corner of his eye: a bruise, faded, probably days old, maybe even a week or two. She doesn't know how she missed it before but she decides that it's because it was so small that it looked so faded, looked like it could have been dirt or an old mark. But she sees it now and she can't ignore it.

"Why were you late today?" she asks soon. "You didn't say why."

Peter shrugs and she thinks if she weren't so aware, if she didn't grow up so close with Pietro, that she might miss it. But she's grown used to seeing the little things, to picking up on them and noticing the smaller details. She's spent so many years by her brother's side, watching him grow, and struggle, and learn, and even though they're twins she sometimes feels a responsibility to look out for him. That's why it makes it so easy for her to see that something is going on with Peter and she finds that she can't ignore it, even though she knows that it doesn't concern her and that she probably should forget about it.

She can't.

"I was—It was just this thing. You know, that's all." Peter pauses, reaching for his water. "It was this after school thing, that's all. You know how busy school can be."

"It's 12:30 and Darcy already told me you're not in school today, that you're having some time off. Try again?"

With a sigh, Peter looks away. He drops his gaze to his book and begins to scribble into the corner of the page, trying to distract himself with whatever he's drawing, or writing down, and she leaves him to it. Wanda decides not to bother him, watching him from afar as she pretends to read her book while giving him the time to work out his next answer. He comes up with it a few minutes later.

"Okay, so, I wasn't gonna come. That's all. I'm having a little time off school and I wanna go back but," Peter pauses, briefly rubbing at his forehead. "Aunt May doesn't think that I'm ready. So, yeah. I wasn't gonna come here today but then I changed my mind, that's all. I missed my train so I had to get the next one, that's why I was late."

Wanda nods, still feeling curious, still wanting to ask. She knows that she shouldn't, that she doesn't know him and he doesn't know her, but it feels like it's something that he might want to talk about even though they don't know each other. It's why she stays in her seat, watching him quietly when she could easily turn away. It isn't in her to turn away, to walk away from someone who might need her help, might need to talk to her. She's grown used to it, running away, and forgetting, and trying not to feel anything. But this is different, she can't walk away from this.

"What happened?" she asks gently. "Why aren't you in school?"

Peter shrugs, leaning back into his chair slowly. He then begins to adjust the lever on the side, pushing the chair up, down, and then up again, before he pulls the lever hard enough that it sinks almost completely to the ground. Seconds later he pops up from the ground again, adjusting the swivel seat back to full height and then bringing it down a few inches before finally he focuses back on this, on their talk of school and why he was late.

"She's just super stressed out right now. So she thinks I'm stressed, from school and stuff." Peter pauses, biting his lower lip. "She just wanted to make sure that I was ready, and happy, and she doesn't think I am so she just wanted to make sure I had some company. That's all, you know?"

She hums, voice softer when she speaks again. "And are you stressed? Did something happen at school?"

The rest goes unsaid, her question about the faded bruise, her worry. Wanda knows that he picks up on it, that he is far more aware than she first thought. He reads her easily and quickly looks back down to his book, spending a few minutes pretending to read it, and she doesn't have to know him to see that this really isn't something that he wants to talk about right now. He isn't at school for a reason and if he wanted to talk about it he would, but he doesn't and she soon decides to leave it alone and talk of other things. But before she can shift the conversation to something else, he's speaking again and she can't bring herself to stop him.

"No, no. School's good, you know? Life is fine. It's just, there are always people. You know? That's it." he sighs, still not looking up yet. "May just wanted me to take some time off, and I guess she didn't want me all alone while she was at work. So that's where Darcy came into things. And where you came into things, I guess. Yeah."

Wanda isn't sure why but for a few minutes afterwards this is all that she can think about. She can only think about Peter, and his problems, and whatever happened to his eye. She says nothing about it for now and decides that she won't, not today, not when he clearly has enough going on. She doesn't know what is going on with him, at school or with these people he mentioned, and she knows it isn't her place to know or to ask. But she soon decides that while she's here, she wants to give him a way to put his mind on something good.

She thinks that she might even need the same thing that he does. A distraction for a few hours, from her life, from all of it. She just wants some time to not think about anything, and after just a few minutes in Peter's company she feels as if he might need the same thing.

"How long will this take?" she asks, pointing to the stack of books. "An hour? Two?"

He shrugs, now settled in his chair. "Umm, I don't know. Maybe an hour. Probably less if I focus. Why's that?"

Wanda smiles a little and quickly slides the bowl of berries over to Peter, watching as he picks one up, turns it over between his fingers, then tastes it. He must like it because he soon reaches for a handful, chewing on a few of the brightly colored pieces of fruit. She smiles more and opens up her sketch book, glancing down at the small drawings and trying to work out where to begin.

"When you're done, we can see what games Darcy has. But only after you're done, okay? And don't rush it. There's time."

"Yeah? Sure. No problem." Peter's quick to answer, spirits clearly lifted. "Maybe we could get pizza, too? For dinner, you know, or whatever. If we get sick of the games, Darcy has a lot of movies, too. Have you heard of that really old movie called Aliens?"

Slowly her half-smile turns into something bigger, almost brighter, as she flicks through the pages of her small notebook. Wanda means to answer him, to let him know that they can have pizza, maybe even watch a movie, but she soon gets distracted. Not by him, but by the journal on the bench in front of her. It's an old book, faded and black. She hasn't touched it, hasn't drawn in it, for what feels like forever. She didn't even mean to pull it out from under her bed today, it was just there, sticking out from under the corner of the bed, from where Bucky found her old guitar earlier.

It's been so long since she drew in it, or even looked at it, that for the first few minutes it feels like she's going through someone else's book. Wanda reads it anyway, glancing over scribbled words marked on the page and running her fingers over old and unfinished drawings. She smiles at the little sketches, running her fingers over the pages before she eventually closes up the book and swaps it for a recipe book that she decides to read and write little notes in, hoping it might give her back that spark she once had for cooking and creating not so long ago.

Minutes later, the sound of Peter drinking from his water bottle reminds her that she's not alone.

"We can have pizza." she says soon, watching him smile.

"Really? Great. Thanks. What's your favorite?" he answers almost right away. "Also, thanks for being here today. You didn't have to do this, but you did, and I think May is happy knowing I'm not alone. So thanks."

Wanda nods, watching him write in his book for another minute before she speaks again. By the time that she does, she realizes that Peter seems to be halfway done with both his homework and her bowl of berries. She smiles at the realization and reaches for a handful of blueberries, determined not to let herself get lost in any thoughts or old memories now, not of her brother, not of Bucky and the blueberries. She eats several then places them aside, leaving them for Peter if he wants. But something tells her that he's planning to get full on pizza, not berries.

"It's fine, I don't mind." she says, smiling. "But if you are expecting help with your homework...I can't do that. I'm not so good at it."

Right away he glances up, a soft smile stretched across his lips, and for the first time since he arrived she can see that he seems happy here, seems relaxed, and even though she doesn't know him she feels glad to see it—and to feel the same way. For the first time since she woke up this morning she feels different, feels like she might be able to forget about Bucky's distance, and Clint's words, and the sound of Darcy banging on the glass window at 6 o'clock in the morning.

For the first time since she woke this morning, it feels like she might actually be able to let go of the breath she's been holding in. She doesn't know if it's being around Peter or if it's looking out for him that distracts her from what's going on in her own mind, but she welcomes it. She welcomes the distraction and the chance to let go of everything she's been holding in today, to replace it with something lighter, something a little less heavy.

She lets herself enjoy it.

"That's okay. There's tons of stuff I'm not good at." Peter says a while later, word soft, smile warm. "Some things just take a little extra practice, that's all."