A/N) Hi before we start, thanks to Noooo Aime and Sakura Leisel for notifying me that there were errors and codes (and technical things I don't know about) during the upload. Thank you!
-Mercia
Part One
It starts early, usually they only come a week before. Wanda's visions won't fail her though... They never do, she holds on to that thought. She's stronger than these men that sit outside her door, it's laughable really that she a girl- a woman, a child- could kill them if she wanted but she won't, so she let's them trap her. However these lead wall that contain her can break her, they smile and whisper. Wanda can hear their noises leaking out, escaping their throats, low moans of sick deprived men. And she hears her brothers sobs, and screams of fury! But she won't cover her ears. Oh no! Because even these blank walls won't stop her from seeing his heart torn out, even the "soundproofed" barriers won't muffle his gasps when he chokes on his own lungs!
It's always a week's notice she gets before they come.
One week before she becomes their pig.
It doesn't make a difference, she dreams of them everyday, It's always the same.
So when the moon comes to her early, Wanda grasps it and doesn't let go.
...
One month before.
She starts dreaming about the moon. It's been so long since she's seen it. So pale and shiny and reflecting hope in the dark. Wanda likes the dark, it's hopeful in it's own way in that she will not have to be afraid of the probing people and the suffocating lights. Dreams of the moon only come during sleep, during the dark.
The moon is dancing and smiling and laughing. The moon hides herself and finds herself struck with wonder and awe. The moon walks with a mischievous Sun who bleeds and hurts. The moon heals with gentle kisses and embraces.
The moon stitches her wounds and mends tattered clothes and soothes her headaches. Wanda feels as free as she can, trapped in a cage.
...
Twenty-eight days before
Today she dreams of the moon again. She sits beside her when the moon opens her eyes to harsh lights for the first time. She witnesses Mischief burning with fear and faith, leaving her Moon.
Even though Wanda knows that Moon isn't hers, not really.
Not yet.
...
Sometimes Moon is silent, thinking about nothing and allows Wanda to think out loud, maybe she listens. Though not to Wanda, because all this has come to pass, but to everyone. She teaches Wanda about fantastic beasts that make people think her mad. Sometimes, when Moon speaks, Wanda pretends that she's talking to her and they converse.
It's real but it's not. At times, Wanda wonders if she herself is real. She may as well be all pretend, nobody will remember her except the moon.
But who will ask the moon?
...
Twenty-one days before.
A storm surrounds the moon. She howls but the ice spits on her face. Moon has a mother and a father, they are both beautiful and grey. They are on a journey together... As a family. A warmth spreads in Wanda's chest and she hasn't smiled in a long while so it feels so good.
The moon giggles, she's so young really, and Wanda wants to hold her head up. But she can't, so instead Wanda laughs with her and hopes she is safe and happy and well.
Even though deep down, Wanda knows that's impossible. Why else would she dream about a the moon? It's the first this has occurred to her because really, all Wanda can think about is tragedy.
But today she sees nothing of the sort, it's all cheerful smiles and wide eyes. Thick woodland surrounds them, green covered in broken pillows of snow. Round trees with thick stumps and rough spines. There's light and the smell of roast chicken, buttery potatoes and turnips and smoked fish, coming from the chimney of a cabin like home built from tinder. To Wanda, it's five steps from a home. Outside is a blue flag adorned with a yellow cross for a country Wanda can't quite remember- she has no such time for things so trivial as geography, only for dreams.
There is a road of potential heading back from the horizon, it says adventure and whispers to curiosity. It starts to snow again, but inside is magic. Real magic. Things that Wanda thought only she could do and more. It's fascinating; the first time Wanda's seen something so good and beautiful and bright from something that, to Wanda, is chaotic and malevolent. She can't quite smile yet, but she can wonder and wander around the possibilities of something that isn't always bad.
She doesn't cry her eyes closed at night now, so it's a start.
...
Seventeen days before.
She doesn't dream of the moon today so Wanda tells her brother of her moon.
It's a small relief to be honest (that the moon doesn't appear today). She's not sure if she can take the joy of a family dancing around her head for very long without wishing. Wishing is very dangerous.
"Wanda? Are you up?" It's Pietro, and Wanda has the urge to weep because its been ridiculously long since she's heard these words.
"Yes. How are you brother?" She says in reply, there's no need to be formal but it's been too long.
There's a light, hoarse chuckle, "I'm good little sister. Talk to me."
For some reason, this stumps her. What should she say to him, what can she share that won't be turned against her... Except this is her brother! She has to tell him everything! And so she does. She shares her refuge the moon with him.
"Do you miss the moon?" She says finally, leaning against the wall like she knows Pietro is doing.
"I miss almost everything." He replies.
"I dream about her sometimes," all the time, she doesn't say, "she's pretty and sparkling. Very clever, you know?"
He's confused, she can tell. "The moon? Are you sure?"
Wanda almost laughs. "Yes brother dear, the moon." She smiles and tilts her head back on the wall, cross legged, hiding her affection and sincerity with sarcasm. "A little girl with big eyes and a soft laugh and magic. Real magic. And many adventures!"
He's already hooked, so he says, "Tell me more, Wanda."
Because it's a relief to talk about someone else's happy life, rather than their own mere documentations, files and experimentation records.
"Well, she has beautiful mother and father. And light, starry hair; and big silver eyes. She's very curious and adventurous." It surprises her how much she can say about a little girl she has never met.
"How old is she, about our age?"
"No, maybe three or four. Very little." This is selfish. She knows, if they're listening- which they always are- they'll find her moon(hunt her really) and make her disappear like them. But she almost doesn't care, she wants so badly for moon to be real and to see her that it doesn't matter.
"What's it like, when you see her? Is it sunny or green?" He doesn't realise that all this is true, maybe because it's not some sort of tragedy.
She's walking a thin line. "It's almost never sunny," she forces a laugh, "always grey skies and light drizzly rain. Lots of trees and grass though, she likes to climb the trees to the top and catch invisible creatures. And wade through ponds and splash around in mud."
He does heave a laugh, "Sounds like us before..." He stops himself, " when we were young." Even though they should still be, but they're not.
"Yes it does, doesn't it. But all little children are like that at that age." She pauses, "I think, I think she's on holiday though."
"Where?" This is all just a fairytale to him.
"Hmmm, somewhere amongst mountains and trees, covered in snow with long twisty roads. It's very cold there, and has many of snow storms. Oh! And a small wooden cabin with a little flag; blue with a yellow cross. And-"
"Oh, we went there once, before mother and father died, on holiday... Remember? That's Sweden." He sighs wistfully.
But she can't remember. "Oh, yes. Of course."
"We were six at the time. Well I turned seven before we left, but you... Only on the way back." She can tell he's smiling, "You were so annoyed."
"Ah, I remember now!" Liar. You little liar, liar, liar.
"Anyways, carry on Wanda."
"Well, she's looking for something. Her and her family. They're looking for something. A um... Horned Cracked Sornack? Er no, that isn't it. A Crinkled Horned Sorkack? Er..." How can she not remember?!
"A Crumple Horned Snorkack?" He suggests helpfully.
"Yes! How did you know brother?" Because she's curious, maybe just maybe-
"Just a feeling. I think I've heard of it before."
Maybe he sees the moon too!
"Probably when we went on holiday."
Oh. "Oh." Nevermind. "A-anyways, I didn't dream about her today, but I hope she's okay."
He's silent... Thinking about it. "She's real... Like your other dreams? Like the- one of your visions?"
"Yes Pietro. I think so."
There's a clatter and a squeal. Pietro's door has opened, its his turn to play pig. He doesn't protest as much anymore(or they'll hurt his little sister) so there's a short struggle and a few grunts.
She really shouldn't. But she can't help herself- she almost stops it from escaping but she can't. She's oh so, so, so selfish, but she says," She's got magic, like us. She's powerful too, Pietro! She's real, I saw her!"
There's silence before, "You big idiot Wanda. What have you done?!" She knows he's crying now... She's crying too.
There's a metallic clang as his door slams, and a click when it locks. Then hers is crashed open and she's yanked up by her hair. "I'm sorry!" She cries, to her brother and to her moon.
Her lovely, lovely moon.
...
When will her moon come back?
...
Fourteen days before.
It's been three days, three days since she's heard Pietro and four days since she's seen the moon. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? And now she's sat on this damned chair again.
"Miss Maximoff... I'll ask you again- this is getting tiresome- Who is this... This moon, no, this powered child you refer to?" Because it sounds ridiculous when he says it like that. Dr Strucker paces the room slowly.
"I told you! I don't know!" She's too cowardly to lie anyways, "I've been having those visions about her for several days, maybe weeks."
"DON'T LIE TO ME BITCH!" He's screaming and it hurts, she can feel the walls vibrating from her stress. They should stop. This is dangerous! Where is her brother or Moon to calm her? Strucker takes a breath. "Turn it on." He leaves the room.
A thousand volts hit her. And she's struck by a sharp hum that slices through her. Wide eyes and short, shallow gasps. A low, silent scream from a hoarse throat. One, two three tears leak from her eyes, clamped shut.
One for Pietro.
And then her moon.
And herself, of course.
Oh, she's done. So, so, done.
She dreams of the moon again, she learns her name.
She's backtracked. The moon is younger and she cannot see. The mischievous sun tired and not so sunny anymore, but slowly getting brighter.
"It's Luna. It means moon. Did you know?"
The moon smiles, the kind that lets you know everything there is to know about that person whilst embracing them. It's kind and warm.
"Well, are you willing to tell us?"
Wanda blinks, her whole body aches. But she's okay, her moon has visited her again.
"What's the child's name? What does she look like? How old is she, Wanda? TELL ME!"
She can feel her resolve breaking, ("Did you know?") so Wanda listens for her moon.(Yes. I think I did know, all along.) But she can be brave! She can have courage! "I told you," Her voice hardens, "I. Don't. Know." The light flickers and glass shatters around her, everything is so loud. All she can think of is protecting her moon.
"Take her back. She's unstable. Now!"
She feels her limp body being seized and dragged back to her prison cell (did she ever leave it?).
None of this matters though, because she was brave today. Pietro will be proud. She saved her moon. (Luna.)
...
Pietro is annoyed at her, she ignores him though. She knows that he's secretly pleased.
...
Ten days before.
She knew it. She couldn't dream about something so light and beautiful like Luna without tragedy as the reason. There's only fractured snapshots, like an old disposable camera, scattered around. She tries to close her eyes and breathe. Big mistake, the dream flashes before her eyes again. But she can't seem to open them.
A child lies on the ground clutching her mother.
Blood splatters on the ground, a shrill scream.
The blow of a gun shot.
"Mummy!"
"Stupify! Protego!"
"Take the child."
An emblem; a red skull with many limbs.
Wanda sits up. The symbol of terror she knows so well, stamped onto every camera, every file, every wall. Even her own clothes. Did she do this?
No, she can't have. She didn't give them nearly enough information... Right?
...
She couldn't sleep that night, and she can't sleep the next night, or the one after.
They end up overdosing her with morphine (Well it isn't really an overdose if it's on purpose, is it?).
...
Seven days before.
Still no dreams of the moon. Again.
No real sleep. Again.
Suspicious injections. Again
No Luna. Again
...
Still nothing. Again.
"Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock."
...
Five days before.
Finally, Wanda's moon comes to visit. She isn't sure it's worth it.
Her hair is tied in two identical plaits, she holds a serious expression of narrowed eyes and licks a drop of blood from her lips, her fists are clenched and bruised. And a girl with stringy brown hair and hazel eyes has a similar stance. Luna's about five, she still is the moon, but she's very different. A row of other little girls surrounds them, standing silently in compliance.
But the other girl is taller, leaner, and however faster Luna is from the other girl, she hasn't the strength of ferocity, soon she's trapped in a headlock. The girl looks for confirmation (to kill the struggling Luna?), a tight-lipped handler nods once, Luna gasps for breath and shuts her eyes.
There's a flash and the other girl is sent flying, crashing into a concrete wall. There's a distinct snap, the girl twitches her fingers, blinks a few times and coughs. But she can't get back up.
It doesn't matter if she was dead before, because she will be.
At least she's 'safe', she tries to tell herself. Wanda prays again and again. She was never really religious, but she has to believe there's something, anything.
...
Four days before.
There's a colourful glissando, a haunting melody in F major starts to echo through a studio of mirrors. Wanda struggles to identify her moon among the rows of identical little girls(dolls), but there she is, smiling happily as though she hadn't sentenced a little girl to death. None of the others smile, no, they have blank expressions and a coat of sweat upon their foreheads. They all move in sync, deadly and paralysing, like an army of wind-up ballerinas. Their arms go up majestically in unison and they spin in their little rows, without ever bumping into one another.
They're all the same: blank, faceless, clockwork, perfect.
But her moon is sparkling, a wide eyed grin plays on her face and her movements flow with a genuine grace. Her magic is singing.
Even when she slips off her point shoes, and her feet are bloody with blisters, that smile doesn't fall from her face.
Wanda can only smile back.
...
Three days before.
She classroom looks so American, there's world maps hung on the walls, a whiteboard at the front and a projector on a table. But it's not the setting which reminds Wanda of the people that destroyed her family, that she loathes. Oh no! It's the words the girls repeat over and over and over again obediently, from those American films meant for, well children... But not like this! Not with the intent tho induce fear.
"If you let me stay, I'll keep house for you. I'll wash and sew and sweep and cook." Wanda never liked Snow White anyways.
The light of Wanda's moon gets slowly darker with each word softly spoken. The film clicks off, the girls blink slowly like wooden puppets. And moon paints a smile on her pretty face.
"That can't be good for keeping away the wrackspurts." She whispers to another girl. But this girl doesn't shine like the moon, so she shrugs, blank faced, and walks away. "Well, I'm sure if I smile, they can't get me!"
Her moon is left alone, she uses her fingers to stretch the corners of her mouth up.
...
Two days before.
Today, the Americans attack. Like always, they destroy everything in their path. So she curls up, covers her ears, squeezes her eyes shut and waits for the chaos to stop. It's okay though, the facility is heavily armed and nothing gets past Hydra. It's nice to know she's being so well protected, but a part of her doesn't feel as relieved as it should. But she can't allow the Americans to win. She'd rather they both lose than both winning. The compound is destroyed though, so they have to be moved too another circus. That's okay though.
Wanda finds her moon sleeping today. One arm hugs her knees and the other is cuffed to the metal frame of the bed, where the mattress is more like a thin crashmat.
"Goodnight moon." Wanda says.
...
One day before.
The road is bumpy and Wanda estimates that they have eighteen hours left by truck.
"What time is it?" she asks the guard.
He looks to his wrists, hesitates, before giving a calculated answer, "We'll be not be stopping for a while." He smiles grimly, "You'll be staying in here of course."
Wanda snorts softly. "Thank you for that." she sasses. The guard makes no attempt to reply.
In the meantime, she'll amuse herself. But with what?
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock goes her mind clock.
She really has no other sense of time other than this imaginary beat which she doesn't keep track of. Tock tick tock. They're gone but they've left the light on, so she counts the number of times it flickers instead. Wanda doesn't know Morse code but sometimes she imagines that a friend is communicating with her, we're coming... Hold on... We'll save you... Pietro's fine... You're going to be okay. She makes the light flicker back in response.
Please hurry!