Clint and Steve carried the body onto the helicarrier. Clint tried to do it on his own, but nearly collapsed trying to stand up. That's when Steve stepped in. They claimed their section of the helicarrier and left Wanda to her own devices.
Wanda trailed behind the two men. Inside she was screaming. Screaming at Ultron, at Hawkeye and Captain America. Screaming at God and Pietro and herself. Why did Ultron have to chose them? Why hadn't the mighty Captain America with his shield save the archer? Why did it have to be Pietro? Why did he have to be the hero? There were so many others who should have done it.
Grief, sadness, and an unending loneliness wrapped themselves around Wanda's heart. She wished it had been her. She wished she'd fallen with the city. They were selfish thoughts and some small part of her brain, the part that kept her walking, listened to them with horror. No, Wanda fought the darkness in her mind. This was on Ultron alone, she tried to tell herself.
The pain gave way to anger. It burned like wildfire through Wanda's heart and mind. It banished the darkness and for the moment that was good enough for her. She let the rage fill her veins. Every beat of her heart fanned the flames. "This is wrong," the flames whispered, "only one heart is beating." Ultron took her brother. The Avenger's took her brother. Wanda's hands twitched. The helicarrier accelerated smoothly. She could bring them down in a ball of flame. "No one took him. No one asked him to make that sacrifice," the rational part of Wanda's mind reminded her. That jolted her back to reality. The glow around her fingertips faded.
The Avenger's were moving around like zombies, patching each other up and talking. Wanda couldn't understand them. It sounded like they were underwater. Occasionally she caught someone's eye. The pity there made her want to puke. Assassins and Gods weren't meant to seem so human. It was the archer who managed to catch Wanda's attention and hold it. He was sitting on the floor beside a gray blanket. He motioned for Wanda to come closer.
Wanda didn't want to move. Pietro was under that blanket. She knew in her heart he was gone. She felt it the instant it happened, but seeing him would make it real. She crossed the jet with tiny, shuffling steps. Maybe it was her who most closely resembled a zombie.
Wanda sat down in front of Hawkeye. He looked at her with sympathy and understanding. Wanda could feel the sorrow rolling off of him in waves, but there was no pity in him. She was grateful for that. Hawkeye reached out and uncovered Pietro's face. Wanda slid forward. A hair's breath separated her and her brother. Her hands hovered over his face and his features blurred through a veil of tears. Hawkeye looked away. It was all the privacy he could give her in the confines of the jet.
Wanda brushed a strand of hair off Pietro's face. His eyes were closed. His skin was still warm. He could have been sleeping. Wanda was shaking. Her hands trembled against her brother's face. Gently, she lifted his head into her lap. Tears ran down Wanda's face and dripped off her chin. They landed on Pietro's face like fallen stars. Wanda ran her fingers through her brother's hair. When they were younger, she'd done this to get him to sleep after a nightmare.
Clint flinched when Wanda started to sing. He didn't understand the word, but he didn't need to. It was a lullaby. A promise of better things to come. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. The motors of the helicarrier hummed. It was soothing. Between the vibrations and Wanda's song, Clint found himself slipping into the welcoming dark.
When the helicarrier landed, Wanda jerked awake. Pietro's head was still him her lap. He was cold now. Panic and grief threatened to take Wanda. Her chest was tight. She couldn't breath around the ball in her throat. Then the anger came back. Wanda seized it. She was never good at brushing away her emotions. She couldn't hold onto the welcome emptiness of emotional exhaustion. The anger was at least less painful than the sadness.
The helicarrier was all but empty. Wanda saw Hawkeye walking towards her across the hold of the ship. She set Pietro's head back on the ground and stood up. A black jacket slipped off her shoulders. Wanda blinked at in surprise. She wondered who'd cared enough to cover her.
"We're home," Clint said softly. Wanda nodded. SHe had no idea where they were. Wanda's eyes were unfocused. Hawkeye let her stare at nothing for a moment before touching her arm. They needed to get off the ship. "Can I carry him?" Clint asked. Wanda nodded slowly. She stepped back and watched the archer gather up her brother's form in his arms. Once again it looked like he could be sleeping. Except he was too limp. The blanket slipped and Wanda froze. She could see the blood on her brother's torso. Her heart raced. The world spun and Wanda had to brace herself against the wall. Clint waited until Wanda was back in control before he started walking. She trailed behind him, up onto the deck and down off the helicarrier.
The sun was shining and it was warm. They crossed a grassy field. THe green blades caressed Wanda's ankles. It was too peaceful. Her fingers twitched. She could shred the ground and rip the birds from the sky. Part of her wanted the world to reflect the brokenness inside of her. Part of her was glad it didn't.
Wanda didn't pay much attention to the building. Concrete and steel and glass. The scent of dust. None of it mattered. She followed Clint into a small room. He laid her brother on a bed as gently as if her were carrying a child rather than a corpse. Wanda wanted to thank him for that, but she couldn't find the words.
"You can stay here as long as you like," Clint promised. "I'll be just outside and down the hall if you need or want anything." There was an awkwardness in his mannerisms.
Wanda startled them both. "It's not your fault," she said. The words came out easy and rang with truth. Clint hesitated then reached out to brush a tear from Wanda's cheek. When he lifted his arm she moved. One step to close the distance between them, one heartbeat to wrap her arms around the man's torso, one second to steal the archer's heart.
Clint held Wanda while she sobbed. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back. She clung to him like her life depended on it. Clint never ended up leaving. Wanda ran out of tears and pulled away. Her head was pounding and the tightness in her chest remained, but breathing was easier now. Clint asked her about religion and she was able answer in scratchy voice.
They buried Pietro at the edge of the forest, because it reminded Wanda of home. Her brother would have liked this place. He'd have run wild through the meadow and she'd have had to use her powers to get him out of the big oak tree. Clint had helped her replace the bullet riddled running suit with a new one. Wanda had through it only right that he be buried in the kind of clothes he'd lived in. Plus her brother hated suits. He said they made him feel claustrophobic. Wanda knew it was because it reminded him of their parents' funeral.
Wanda stood at the edge of the grave and stared down at the coffin. It was lacquered maple. The wood was a warm honey color and seemed to catch the sunlight. Without looking away from the casket, Wanda scooped up a handful of dark soil. She stood back up and let the dirt slide through her fingers. It fell like rain onto the wood. She didn't bother to count how many times she did this. Until the shine of the wood was dulled by dust or hidden by the dark earth. Wanda took one last handful and stepped back from the hole. She closed her fingers a moment early and clasped the last clump of dirt in her fist.
The rest of the Avenger's filled the hole. Thor talked about Pietro's bravery and how he'd most certainly earned a spot in Valhalla. Captain America, now Steve in his leather jacket, had nothing but kind words for both twins. Clint didn't say anything to the grave. As far as he was concerned, there was no one there. Instead he put his arm around Wanda's shoulders and whispered in her ear, "thank you."
With the hole filled and the grass relaid, the group trickled inside. Clint left straight from the grave. He'd meant to stay, but little Nathaniel had decided today was the day.
Inside, there was food but Wanda didn't bother to get a plate. She did take the opportunity to ask Thor a favor. Then she retreated to an out of the way sofa to watch the others. She didn't known them well yet. Wanda flinched when the Vision sat down beside her. He set a paper plate with a slice of chocolate cake on her lap. "I've been told the chemicals in chocolate help," Vision murmured. Wanda nodded. She picked at the cake, with a fork. The pair watched the rest of the Avengers mingle. Thor and Stark were leaving. Wanda was glad for that. Thor didn't seem bad, but she couldn't relax around the billionaire. Falcon aka Sam. Iron Patriot aka Rhodey. Black Widow aka Natasha or Nat. Captain America aka Steve. Vision and her. They were an odd group to say the least.
The weather changed as the sun set. Clouds rolled in, wind kicked up, and the thunder rolled. Wanda made a mental note to thank Thor the next time he was back on Earth. Lighting ripped open the sky and the heavens fell as rain. Wanda slipped out when no one was paying attention. Outside wind whipped her hair around her face and the rain pelted her skin so hard it stung. Wanda ran to the center of the meadow and screamed. Her power danced around her, a scarlet lightning storm that shamed the flashes overhead.
Wanda fell to her knees in the darkness. It hurt so good to let go of the anger. Her tears mingled with the rain and the thunder echoed her sobs. Stark built Ultron to protect people. She'd frightened Stark to protect what was left of her family. Ultron killed because he was sick. Sick and twisted and now dead. Wanda still hated Ultron, but she also understood him. She'd stared at Tony Stark and thought about using her powers to snap his neck. Pietro played the hero because that's who he was. He'd spent his whole life saving people. He'd saved her when they were ten and countless times since. Clint had been prepared to give up his life to save the child. He didn't ask Pietro to die. Wanda had no one to hunt, no one to direct her rage at, so she let it go. The numbing anger faded and she sobbed harder. She missed her brother. Clint had said they were going home, but she couldn't go home. Pietro was her home.
Natasha Romanoff prided herself on being able to read people. When she looked at the Maximoff girl, she saw trouble. The girl was broken somewhere. Broken and powerful made for a dangerous concoction. Natasha was thinking about this when she walked in on Wanda standing in the armory. The girl was soaked to the bone. Her black dress clung to her too skinny body. She turned when Natasha walked in and smiled. Natasha's hand slid to the holster on her waist. It was an instinctive reaction. "Pietro would have loved the storm. When were little, our mom used to say one day he'd race the lightning and win," Wanda said. Natasha's hand shifted away from her weapon. Wanda's smile wasn't maniacal. It was crooked, small, and sad. It didn't reach her eyes. Wanda wasn't reaching for weapons. She was cradling the red leather jacket she'd worn in the Battle of Sokovia. "Pietro picked it," Wanda replied to the assassin's unasked question.
"So what now?" Natasha questioned.
"What do Avengers do?" Wanda asked back. Natasha blinked in surprise. "Hawkeye said if I fought, I was an Avenger. I think I'd like to keep being one," Wanda explained. She ran her fingers across the soft leather of the jacket.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. She sized up the girl in front of her and was surprised to like what she saw. There was no doubt Wanda was broken, but is it possible to have a hero without some kind of a tragic backstory? Was there an Avenger who wasn't broken in some way? No and no. "You know I have an idea for your uniform," Natasha smiled. Wanda raised an eyebrow. "I'm thinking red leather," Natasha added. Wanda nodded.
The first time Wanda put on her uniform and looked in the mirror she smiled. It'd been three weeks since they'd buried Pietro and this was the first time Wanda had smiled all the way to her eye. She felt powerful. Wanda took off the suit and shoved it in her suitcase. CLint was waiting outside the base in a beat up blue pickup. He'd been vague on where they were going or why it was just the two of them, but when he parked the truck in front of a tidy little farmhouse Wanda understood.
Clint took her inside and showed her off to the older, kids Lila and Cooper. They would have liked to pester Wanda longer, but Clint put a hand on her shoulder and guided her to a newly built sun room. Laura Barton,was sitting in a wicker rocking chair with a baby in her arms. She looked up and smiled at their guest. Clint had filled her in. Clint gave Wanda a light push in the back and turned around to go find out which of the kids was screaming now and why. Wanda stumbled toward the pretty, dark haired woman.
"Hi," Wanda mumbled. To her horror she felt herself blushing.
"I'm Laura Barton. You must be Wanda. It's a pleasure to meet you," Laura said with a smile. Wanda blushed a bit darker. The baby shifted, fussing slightly. Laura cooed at him and motioned for Wanda to pull up a chair. "We've got a lot to talk about," she said.
Wanda cried when Laura told her the baby's name. As far as Wanda was concerned Nathaniel Pietro Barton was the cutest baby in the world. That said, it took Laura two days to get Wanda to hold him. The girl had never been around babies and honestly she was terrified of hurting this squishy little potato person. That fear faded when he blinked up at her with blue eyes and cooed.
Wanda stayed for ten days. She helped Clint and the kids with chores. Laura taught her how to hold, feed, and change a baby. Wanda played Legos with the older kids and Clint even caught her laughing. On the fifth day, Lila asked her dad why Wanda was staying with them. Clint pulled Lila and Cooper aside. "Wanda doesn't have a family. Her mom and dad died when she was little and her brother died recently," Clint started.
"Is he the one Nathan is named after?" Cooper asked.
Clint nodded. "Yeah, Pietro Maximoff. He's a hero and so's Wanda," he continued. "But Wanda's really lonely and everyone needs a family too look after them…"
Lila interrupted her dad, "So she's part of our family now." Clint nodded.
Wanda was standing on the other side of the thin kitchen door, fighting back tears.
"I always wanted a big sister," Lila said brightly. And that was it.
On the tenth day, a call came in. The Avengers were needed. Wanda suited up in the Barton's spare room, that Laura had started calling Wanda's room. Wanda met Clint on the porch. The kids stared at her in awe. So this is what it's like to be a big sibling, Wanda mused.
Wanda and Clint left in a hurry. Halfway to the meeting spot, Wanda realized she'd left her bag at the farm. Clint laughed when she told him. "We'll be home in a couple days at most," he said.
The realization that she had a home hit Wanda like punch in the stomach. She had people who cared about her, people who wanted and needed her. She had a family. It wasn't the same, but it was still good. As they drove Wanda noticed the tightness in her chest was nearly gone. She still cried herself to sleep. She still had nightmares full of gunfire, but they faded when she braided Lila's hair or sat down to dinner with the Barton family. She would always miss her brother and she still held onto the hope that she'd see him again, but Wanda came to the realization that she was going to keep living. She was going to be the big sister, protecting people and saving the world. She was going to live for both of them.
Wanda Maximoff got out of the truck and smiled up at the jet, swooping down to pick her and Hawkeye up. The Scarlet Witch got on the jet, nodded to the Black Widow and sat down between the Vision and Hawkeye while Captain America talked battle plans.