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With the slow creaking of the walls around her, the slight but noticeable sway of the ship and the occasional drips to break through her thoughts- Wanda realised one horrifying fact.
She was a prisoner once more.
And then a second thought, more horrifying than the first, shot through her skull at a breakneck speed- as if demanding to be noticed above all else; she didn’t have Pietro. That fact alone was more gut punching, heart wrenching and hope destroying than the fact that she was a prisoner in someone else’s game once more. It had been a fact that was impossible to ignore since his death. A part of her had been ripped apart and left bloody and bleeding on the floor- but despite it all she desperately tried to believe that he was alive. That she wasn’t alone.
Because while she hadn’t had the easiest of lives compared to other people her age, she at least had her brother by her side. That no matter the circumstance or whatever was going on, Pietro was her rock to ground her when it all got too much. It didn’t matter that this prison would become her fourth, and potentially, final home, because it didn’t matter anymore. Without Pietro it didn’t feel like her heart would ever be able to find a home again- that she would be alone and adrift, going from place to place until she wound up in prison once more. It seemed like this was her fate.
To lose more and more of herself until she finally broke.
Well… It didn’t seem like she could break anymore.
The first heartbreak was when her first home got ripped away from her all those years ago- when a quiet and peaceful evening was obliterated by a weapon Tony Stark had dropped in her living room. Of course, having since met and spoken to the man, she realised that he hadn’t personally destroyed her life and killed her parents- that didn’t mean her pain hurt any less.
He hadn’t targeted her or her family specifically. She had just been an unfortunate casualty in war, a side effect that was brushed to the side with all the others. After all, while yes her room had been directly hit, the other neighbouring rooms also suffered. It didn’t make the hurt any less agonising. The wound had long since scarred, but it would forever ache with every breath she took.
But she learnt to swallow the anger directed at the man in question. It didn’t mean that she could do the same for when she remembered the next few years of her life after her parents death- living on the streets wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t for the weak. She had seen other kids in the same situation try and fail, be that moving away to find a better living situation, or simply disappearing. Back then she had been hopeful to believe that they would find their way to having a proper home again- but the harsh words thrown at them behind their backs wasn’t easy to ignore. And without any hope of changing their situation by themselves when the advert practically fell into their laps, well… How could Wanda ignore it?
Pietro had been more reluctant to believe that someone, or some organisation, would willingly offer help. They had been at the receiving end of harsh words, cold shoulders and empty words; but Wanda knew this was different.
And it was, but in a way she could have never considered.
Her second heartbreak came in the form of endless tests, experimentation and harsh training that meant neither she or Pietro could falter. Endless nights of her whole body aching as new power fueled her- hearing her brother scream and slam into walls over and over again as his own body seemed to tear itself apart as it struggled to adapt.
They had given up their freedom on the streets for this home with eyes constantly watching their movements. They were given a roof over their heads, food and powers, all that was asked from them was endless tests and to do the bidding of their boss. It worked, until it didn’t.
Who they worked for changed, Ultron had taken an interest in them- or well, her powers. The very same thing that she was still learning to control (and what ultimately led her to her current situation). Ultron hadn’t hidden his agenda, they had shared their anger and hatred towards Tony Stark and so had teamed up. Or she had believed he hadn’t hidden his goals until she had peaked inside his mind. And with one glance to Pietro, they left. How could they stay? Yes they wanted revenge against Tony Stark, but they didn’t want people to die. What Ultron wanted to do was too far.
And… The next part was too painful for Wanda to think through, fresh tears brimming at her eyes and she grits her teeth, clenching her jaw.
Pietro had died.
While she wasn’t the one to have pulled the trigger- or been there to stop the bullets, she felt responsible for his death.
It had been her idea to sign up for the tests, which led them down this path, and then her silent word to abandon Ultron. They would’ve died in his plan to eliminate the human race, but at least she would’ve been with her brother rather than being alone, forever cut in half. Always glancing over her shoulder to see if her brother was there, forever searching the room for the mess of silver white hair, forever seeking the warmth of her brother's smile, shared connection in silence.
She had heard of the butterfly effect, how one decision could change everything.
Wanda had been angry at first. After defeating Ultron (and she ripped his heart out with one trembling hand, tear streaked face and anger coursing through her veins) the others had been wary of her. After all, she had been in all of their heads, she knew their fears, knew their weaknesses- what was she supposed to do? Shrug her shoulders and say sorry? Pietro would’ve known what to do, he always did. And a bitter part of her knew that Pietro would’ve fitted in better. He was always the sociable one, knew what to say, when to laugh and when to back off. So yes, she had been angry. Her third home had been filled with awkward silence and pitying looks.
Clint had reached out to her, he had been… Unsure, hesitant and almost wary of her, and at first she figured the archer felt like he owed her, owed Pietro in some weird way. But it wasn’t until Clint’s sixth attempt on getting Wanda to leave her room that she caved and gave him a chance, at the time she had figured she owed Pietro too. Why had he saved Clint? What did he see in the older man that she couldn’t? Or maybe it had been the child that Clint was trying to save that pushed Pietro to sacrifice his life?
It had been awkward, they didn’t know what to talk about, what subject they could discuss and which ones to avoid, but, slowly, a bridge formed between them. Sure, they didn’t talk all the time when they sat in the seating area of the base, but sometimes they didn’t need too.
She was still angry, but it was easier to manage it every day.
She grew less awkward and anxious that the others would decide to throw her out, or that she was too much of a risk. Vision’s questions and genuine curiosity of the world helped distract her, to give her time to grieve but time to heal at the same time. And Steve welcomed her to the training room (one she had been avoiding) with a soft smile and small gesture towards the mats. “Let’s get you trained up.” Steve had said, no hesitation to let her in.
But, like everything good she had, it ended.
She had to choose a side- and she chose wrong.
Closing her eyes, Wanda let her head slump back and knock gently against the cold metal wall behind her. Her shoulders ached from where they were pulled taught to keep her arms wrapped around her body, hands pressed flat against her sides to prevent her from using her magic. The shock collar was an extra incentive to not use her powers, which she had found out the hard way when she was first transferred here.
This was her fourth home. And it seemed like this would be her last home. Yet Tony Stark, the man who had murdered her parents, could walk free.
Clint called out to someone nearby, the words echoing at yet Wanda didn’t have the energy to listen. At least she wasn’t alone…
If only her apartment hadn’t been hit.