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Summary:

There was only so much Wanda could heal. Or maybe only so much she should.

Wherein Wanda's mind manipulating powers aren't forgotten. And neither is all that cannot be so simply fixed.
SPOILERS FOR CIVIL WAR

Notes:

Someone pointed out on tumblr. that Wanda possesses some powers that probably could help with removing what Hydra programmed into Bucky's mind. Here's my take on how that could go down because I just cannot accept Bucky going back into cryo.
This fic is full of feels, mostly Bucky and Wanda ones because I suppose they have a lot in common, both burdened by a lot of guilt that needs to be adressed. Consider yourself warned, it's not exactly a happy fic. However, it is some sort of starting point from which the characters can look into the future. At least we always have stucky love to sweeten the pot, right?
I suppose no one really knows how exactly Wanda's mind powers work in MCU so I decided to portray it in a way that hopefully isn't too confusing.
I may continue this verse in a form of series but I cannot promise it will happen for sure. Only if you'd like that :)

Work Text:

There was only so much Wanda could heal. Or maybe only so much she should.

She went deep down into the darkest corners of his mind, she almost gave up before even trying as she saw and felt how entangled, ingrained into the very core of him the programming was. And yet... she did it.
For Steve, for the sake of making the sadness and worry finally disappear from his eyes, she spent hours inside Bucky's tortured mind, carefully freeing him from the choking hold of Hydra. She could swear she heard a terrifying scream resonate right in her bones as she unattached the last, lingering strand of the poisonous, foregin will. She had never felt this exhausted and cold, so cold in her whole life.

Only then she felt the pain.

It wasn't hers and it wasn't alien like Hydra's touch she learned to recognise, it came from within him, from Bucky - free now but still trapped with his memories, the smell of blood no one should have spilled. And Wanda could lift that burden from his shoulders. She could do it in a blink, the task so much easier than getting rid of the programming but... Bucky caught her wrist.

He shouldn't have been able to tell what she was doing there but then again, so many times he had had someone else inside his head that maybe he could do just that.

Wanda blinked and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. He shook his head minutely, the movement so delicate, only for Wanda's eyes. He didn't want it gone, he wanted to remember, punish himself in that way and Wanda... she could relate. Carefully, she started retreating back to her own body. However, before she went, right before the last of her power left him, she more of sensed that heard a message, Bucky focusing on words.

Stevie cannot know.

***

It was all a matter of seconds. From the moment Bucky shifted to grip Wanda's wrist and she opened her eyes to the point where Steve found himself by Bucky's side, his face open, hopeful and fearful all at once.

"It's gone." said Wanda and flinched at how tired and weak she sounded.
Her throat was so dry, the words physically hurt her. It was almost ridiculous how unhappy she sounded given the triumph.
"Try it." Bucky couldn't look at Steve; which could pass as an attempt not to let himself hope but he knew just as well as Wanda did that it worked. "Try the words." she bared his pain and it had to take a while before he could tuck it back into a safer, more distant part of his mind - one that didn't reflect on his face so outright.

Steve couldn't say them.

Bucky had him memorise the sequence; to be honest, Wanda couldn't quite understand why, and yet Steve just couldn't bring himself to do it.

In the end, Wanda did.

Bucky knew that everything went well and yet he braced himself for a fight. She was glad she had to read them from the book; looking into his eyes would be too hard. Especially as she had seen what had been hidden behind them.

Steve was holding his breath for the entire procedure, looking partly ashamed that he couldn't be the one doing that and partly relieved that he didn't have to be that person. He reached out to grab Bucky's palm and then retreated immediately. For a second he forgot that the left arm still wasn't there.

It really did work.

Wanda finished reading and Bucky let out a long, pained breath. He was free. Or at least just as free as he could be, having to live with the aftermath of the choices he hadn't made that had shaped him into a victim of his own memory.

The Winter Soldier with a burning, loving heart transplanted into a body that comitted far too many crimes.

As the Scarlett Witch, Wanda could at least partly relate. Only that the blood on her hands was the one she splattered over them all by herself. So maybe the comparison wasn't quite as appropriate as she initially had thought.

Quietly she stepped back as Steve pulled Bucky into his arms, relief clearly washing over him. She smiled weakly; it meant one less threat, after all, one less reason for Bucky to hate himself. Actually, she did envy him that. And maybe she also envied the way Steve looked at him as if he hung the moon and all stars, the way Steve's whole being lit up and the way his laughter of pure joy resounded in the room just because of him.

Bucky's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a little dark and pleading right before his expression softened into a smile. First a little forced but then, infected with Steve's happiness, turned genuine. He shifted to fully fall into the safety of the embrace, burying his face into Steve's chest, hiding in the warmth of his perfect, complete joy.

Stevie cannot know.

Walking away, Wanda closed the door behind herself.