Red had always seemed such a fitting colour for Wanda's magic. The colour of passion, of fire, of anger.
One might not be able to guess – by looking at the small, brown haired girl – the depth of her anger, the depth of her deep-seated rage.
It was always with a quiet fury that Wanda surveyed the world; that same world which had treated her, and countless others, so wretchedly.
Her anger sometimes overwhelmed even her.
There were some times when she would feel so out of control, so helpless in the face of that fire blazing in the pit of her stomach. That fire which burned with a savageviolence at the injustices of the world.
It had almost overwhelmed her the day her brother, her best friend, her companion – the better half of herself – had died. It had reared its ugly head and threatened to ignite, to consume, to devour. It was only because her grief was greater than her anger that she didn't unleash her rage on the world, and simply let it burn.
Oh, but she was sorely tempted. Tempted to just break free and let the wild rage of her powers claw at the world and rip out the core and set everything on fire. There were people, so many people, who lived for no other reason than to hurt and destroy and kill and laugh as their fellow men suffered. Why not let the world burn? Why not wipe that stain from the universe forever?
Because in doing so, Wanda would also kill the light. She knew so many who had, within them, a light, a little spark of hope, the gentle flame of a candle.
Not a raging inferno like the one within herself, but something which helped and guided. It was the tender light which lived in Steve, in Rhodey, in Sam, in Clint, in Bruce Banner, in Vision an even in Natasha. It lived in all the Avengers, new and old.
Even Tony had light in him, she had seen it on that day in Sokovia. She had tried to ignore the good in him and to dismiss him as the devil she had so far classed him as, but she couldn't. There was good in Tony Stark, behind the drinking and the one-night-stands and the snarky comments and the don't-care attitude that he paraded about with most of the time. There was a flicker of candle light.
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Wanda really, really, really hadn't thought this visit through properly.
She had arrived on the doorstep of Stark Tower without even knowing if the man himself would be present, or halfway across the world. Thankfully, she was let in by the cool female voice of "Friday" who told her that "yes, Mr Stark is in", and directed her to a lift. Wanda walked into it in a bit of a daze and, when the lift doors opened again, simply stared into space until the inquiries of the voice in the ceiling prompted her to leave it again.
Wanda was still working on auto pilot when she was let into Tony Stark's living room and greeted by the genius.
"Well, I didn't expect to see you, Miss Maximoff. Capsical having trouble with the toaster again?"
Wanda snapped out of her daze in time to send him a steely glare. Why had she bothered to come, again?
Stark didn't make a retort, but walked towards the mini-bar in the corner.
"Drink? Or are you too young?"
Silence.
"I'll take that as a 'no' to the drink, then."
He looked up and noticed that she was still standing.
"Feel free to sit down."
Wanda hunkered down on one of the very expensive couches, trying to curl herself up as tightly as she could without making it too obvious.
Tony noted her posture with an internal sigh, and came to sit opposite her, abandoning his drink on the counter.
"So, why the sudden visit?"
Wanda looked up, and there was a long pause before she spoke.
"I used to hate you."
"But not anymore? Well damn, I'm just too charming."
Wanda ignored him.
"You were the distant devil, and whenever anything went wrong in the world I blamed it on you."
"Harsh."
Wanda ignored him.
"It was easy: to channel all of my hatred at you, rather than try and accept the truth about this miserable world. But, then I met you, and you had changed. I didn't like that. I wanted a fairytale villain, a force of evil to eliminate so that everyone could live happily ever after. I've learned now, that no one is ever a simple villain but, at the time, I was determined to make you suffer. So, I gave you a vision."
Tony repressed a shiver, remembering…
Wanda took a deep breath, it all depended on what she said now…
"I think that sometimes saying 'sorry' isn't enough. I want to give you a vision of joy this time, no sorrow, no fear."
Tony looked rather taken aback, "There's no need, I accept your apology and-"
"Please" Wanda said in a steady tone.
Tony said nothing, but gave a slight nod of his head. That was all the invitation Wanda needed. She slipped into Tony Stark's mind as gently as she could, and began. The tendrils of her magic started to dance and pulse in a silent rhythm as she shaped and twisted them, as she created…
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Tony gasped as he beheld the scene in front of him. It was the team, all of the team, in one of the massive sitting rooms in Stark Tower.
Bruce was there, and Barton, and everyone: Steve, Natasha, Thor, Jane, Wanda, Pietro (Tony's heart clenched when he saw him), Rhodey, Sam, Vision, even Fury, Maria Hill, Coulson…
Everyone was smiling and laughing and getting along. Even Fury looked a little less disapproving than usual. There was a film running on the TV (mostly being ignored) and several boxes of pizza on the table.
Sprawled across the sofa was Cap, half talking to Natasha and half watching a drinking game being played between Sam, Rhodey and Thor. Jane was snuggled up next to Thor, who was absent-mindedly stroking her hair, as he laughed loudly at a joke which Sam had just made.
In the corner of the room, Wanda sat next to Vision, deep in conversation with him, while Pietro stood next to their little sofa, observing the room with a far away look, and a gentle smile on his face.
The shield people were sitting together, on three chairs off to one side of the TV. There was a humorous glint in Fury's eye as he conversed, and even Hill looked a lot less stiff than usual. Coulson looked relaxed and carefree, as if the years which had weighed him down had been lifted from him, and he joked along with the other two with a free and natural smile, which made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
As Tony drank this tranquil sight in, a pair of arms slipped themselves around his waist. Tony Stark turned around, only to see the beautiful, smiling face of Pepper Potts. Tony reached around to return her embrace, and he buried his face in her hair. It smelled of that exotic-flower shampoo he had bought her for Christmas…
After a moment which could have lasted anywhere between a second and infinity, they both leant back, without breaking their embrace, and turned to look at the scene laid out before them.
Through the great window which looked down on New York, Tony could see the sun hanging low in the sky, bathing the city and the room with a golden glow which made everything feel warm and cozy and right.
High up and out of the reach of the sun's rays, where the sky had already darkened, stars were sprinkled across a black velvet backdrop.
Tony saw his friends, which had become like his family, drinking and laughing and chatting. Tony saw peace and companionship. Tony saw a life of safety and love which he had never dared dream of, but which he wanted so much it hurt.
Tony wanted to grasp Pepper's hand and never let go, never leave this place. Tony wanted to go out among everyone, among all these dream figures of his friends, and convince himself that this was all real, because if this was his fate; to see this nirvana only to have it snatched away again, his heart might break. Tony was gripped by such a longing, such a need for this to be real. This peace, this tranquility was something all these people deserved, wanted, needed… But no.
Tony looked over at Pietro, at Coulson, at them all, and took it all in: the joy, the laughter, the contentment in each smiling face. He closed his eyes and listened to the easy babble of their conversations, the clinking of glasses and bottles, the television in the background, as it slowly faded away into silence…
Tony opened his eyes.
He was back in the real world, with its harsh sunlight and noisy traffic and empty rooms.
Gone.
The vision was gone.
Tony looked up. There were tears in Wanda's eyes, which she quickly tried to hide by looking down. She stayed with her head bowed for a moment, collecting herself. Then she stood up and began to walk towards the door.
"Wanda!"
She turned back towards him.
"Thank you," He said.
Wanda nodded. Then she silently slipped out.
Tony was left alone. He could distantly hear the sound of traffic, far below, in the busy New York streets, but in the tower, all was quiet. Tony Stark took a long slow breath in, and out…
And the last remnants of the vision disappeared,
like cobwebs on a summer breeze.