Avengers (AoU): safe
Disclaimer: Marvel and all of its characters etc. belong to their respective owners. I'm just borrowing (or else Clint and Natasha would have their own movies and Loki would redeem himself). No copyright infringement intended!
Author's Note: And here is my second tag to cirque's (Ao3) fic, "one day you'll find you already know". It's a bit more in the style of the parent fic, and takes a different tack than it or "trust". I had just binge-read a bunch of "Wanda gets basically adopted by Clint's family" fics...and, you know, cirque's fic is great! Go read it!
ovo
Laura makes coffee and watches the girl in her kitchen.
She's a lot like Natasha, she thinks with a mixture of fondness and regret. This girl has been through hell. It's obvious in her posture, her speech, her drowning eyes. It's the same way that Nat had carried herself the first time they met all those years ago. Seeing it again gives Laura the sense of walking in familiar territory. It also makes her sick. The thought of other poor young girls going through such abuse...
She pushes the rush of emotion back firmly. "Wanda's a telepath," Clint had warned her. "Sort of. I don't think she'll try to read your mind, but try to be calm with her."
"Have some coffee," she offers, sliding a lopsided mug across the table. Wanda sniffs the steaming liquid cautiously, her eyes never leaving Laura. She wrinkles her nose.
Nat hadn't liked her coffee, either.
"Where is Barton?" the girl asks in that harsh accent, words scraped bare and thin around the edges. A hint of panic colors her tone. "Why did he bring me here?"
"You're safe here," Laura stresses, reaching to cover Wanda's hand with her own. The girl looks startled like she's never been touched before. Maybe she hasn't. "Clint brought you here because it's safe, because it's private and out of the reach of SHIELD'S shrinks and doctors and scientists."
"But why?" Wanda still looks vaguely shocked, but she's calmer now. Less tense. "Why would he – ?" A broken pause, and then a rapid string of words in an unfamiliar language. Sokovian, Laura's brain supplies. She doesn't need to understand it, though, to understand.
"He knew you would need...time," she explains. Time to rest. To heal. To figure out exactly who she is after all that she's been through. She wonders if he told Wanda any of this. If the girl even understands.
"And he does not think that I will hurt you? Your children?" It's challenging. As if she wants Laura to throw her out or get her locked up. She glances at baby Nathaniel, sleeping in a car seat in the corner, and narrows her eyes. "Your husband knows what I am capable of," she says bitterly.
"Clint trusts you." Those deep, drowning, painful eyes flick back up to Laura's face. She meets them with the ease of long practice (Clint, Natasha, her own children, Nick Fury). Laura has always been good at reading people, and she knows when her signature soothing chatter has lost its effect. Wanda is not Natasha. She's bitter and angry and lost, and simple assurances are not enough. "My husband knows what you can do, and he trusts you regardless," she points out firmly. "And God knows that doesn't come easy to him. But really, your actions are entirely up to you; prove to him that his trust isn't misplaced.
Wanda pulls her hand away and sits back in her chair, staring. Thinking.
Laura sips her coffee and watches the girl in her kitchen.
ovo
Note: I should make a collection of these, the stuff I tag and then my actual tags. Or something.