Wanda was broken.
She knew that from the start. She knew it from the moment that the saw her parents die, but Pietro always kept her whole. He saw the good parts of her, and ignored the bad. He was now dead, and nobody else could help her.
The avengers tried to help. They got her doctors and specialists in people woth PTSD, but she always pushed them away. Gave them a glimpse of her world, and they would run away. They stopped trying to find her help after that.
They still could hear her every night, crying herself to sleep. In the morning, she would deny it. At that point, she was only trying to convince herself.
Vision helped. He distracted her for a little bit. She let him see past her facade, and he didn't mind. This made her happy. This made her forget. The two seemed to go hand-in-hand a lot these days.
Missions and training left her too tired to think about her past. The deaths, tragedy and torture that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They would give her cuts and scars where nobody could see. She would tell nobody, but she knew she deserved it. She had too many ghosts to count. Scars was a small price to pay for mass genocide.
The civil war almost broke her apart. Her friends, her family trying to hurt her. Trying to hand her over to the bad guys who would kill her. Even Vision, her Vizh that she had confided in seemed to want her gone. It seems that the blood and chaos that slowly but surely crept behind Wanda all the time had arrived, this time to take her new family.
She felt like a villian. Imprisioned and treated like scum. Tied up like a maniac and had a shock collar to obey them likr a dog. They hurt her everyday. The rest of her family, Clint, Sam and Scott tried to tell her that it was okay. The searing pain in her stomach said something else. They came and tried to rip her open and then put her back together every day. One parallell line across her stomach to represent one day. There was 15 until it stopped.
Half a month later, Steve arrived. He came with Natasha. She heard they slowly come up and take out her family until everyone stood in front of her, gesturing for her to come with them. She smiled. This was hell. The pain didn't let her move, so her family left without her. They walked away. They abandoned her. They didn't care about her. She was nothing but a soldier to them.
Vision came shortly after. He went through the glass and picked her up. Nothing he hadn't done before in bed when Wanda was having nightmares and asked him to stay, but she still tryed to escape. This man had gotten her into this. At the very least, he would bring her to another torture centre, but after a couple minutes of flying, she lost interest. She propped her head up agaibst Visions chest and drifted into sleep.
She woke up in her room. Her arms went to her stomach, where the pain was gone. She felt around to find her scars. She remembered her torture so vividly. Why wasn't it hurting? He soon found out when Vision walked in. He carried the look of concern that he always had, and sat on the corner of the bed. She sat up and grabbed his shoulders, moving him down next to her. He smiled and shifted closer to her. His hand went to her stomach, her scars and then to her neck. He soon lost himself in her eyes, and Wanda snuggled up close to him. He held her tight and they both slept good for the first time since before the accords. She almost felt like she belonged.
Almost...