Author's Note: Yay, you made it to Chapter 2! So, this story's going to have two POV's, Wanda's and Clint's. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 2: Weapon
Clint Barton
I've seen a lot of shit in my lifetime. And you know what, I hate talking about my lifetime like it's over, or I'm old. But hell, sometimes I feel old, especially when I'm sitting in the waiting room of the medical ward after visiting a comatose teammate who's way too young to be here. Shouldn't have been out there. We should have left the damn kids behind. Nineteen years old. Sure they're old enough to join the army, old enough to move out, go to college—new adults. New adults die all the time, but never for me.
I was supposed to die. I'd known it was my time, but that damn kid had to upstage me. And the other kid, his sister, I'd thought she was gonna kill me for letting it happen. I'd thought she'd gone off the deep end when she said her brother was alive—is alive.
Because he is, alive that is. Barely. The doctors call it stasis. His body moves at rates blinding to the eye, of course it heals that fast too, but it takes a lot of energy. Even with the help of the cradle we'd had transported to headquarters, the kid's injuries are so severe his body's in shock from the energy healing sucks out of him. I've seen plenty of people on life support. The oxygen, tubes, bags and beeping machines don't bother me, but they scare the other kid—Wanda. Every day a new machine gets added to the mix keeping her brother alive, she becomes more of ghost. Paler, gaunter, maybe dying inside, just like her twin.
I'm not losing two kids on my watch. I've seen way too much shit in my lifetime. I don't want to see more. I rub my stomach as I slump in the waiting room chair. The synthetic skin itches sometimes, like my body's reminding me it's not natural. I sigh and gaze at the clock on the wall, it's about midnight. I'd gotten off the phone with Laura and the kids an hour before—sometimes the time difference thing really works out—giving them long distance kisses and telling short bedtime stories. It's become my evening routine since leaving Sokovia almost one week ago: call family, and then wait for Wanda to come out of Pietro's room for the night.
Pietro's team of doctors, one from Dr. Cho's practice in Korea, set the visiting hours. I mean all Pietro does is lie there, but the docs claim he can hear us, and his brain spikes all kinds of patterns when we talk to him. So, he's not resting when company's in the room, unless the company's Wanda. Even I notice how Pietro's vitals smooth out when his sister holds his hand or strokes his hair or just talks—to anyone really, not just to him. Think he's comforted by the sound of her voice, and she knows it. If she hadn't nearly passed out last week from not taking care of herself, the doctors would probably move Wanda into Pietro's room.
But Wanda needs breaks. The door to Pietro's room opens, and the girl comes out, thin with dark circles under her eyes. She chafes her arms and pulls her sweater tighter around herself. I snort at the sweater. It's Maria's and too big for the girl. Someone needs to take Wanda shopping, let her try stuff on and get her own clothes. Turns out neither twin had suitcases full of stuff from home. Turns out they don't have much of anything but a few changes of clothes, and an old photograph of their family.
I sit up straight and stretch my arms over my head. "Ready to go?" I ask. Her sad blue eyes train on me and she nods slowly. I rise and let her walk past me, before I follow. SHIELD's letting Pietro be treated in the medical ward reserved for agents—and Avengers. The smile on my lips tastes bitter, teenage Avengers. Hope it doesn't become a trend.
"Clint," Wanda says. She still hesitates when she says any of our first names. She won't say what makes her so nervous about it, but I think it has something to do with us being the enemy not long enough ago for her. I don't know that she'd open up as much as she does to us, if Pietro wasn't so bad off. I don't know the kids, didn't know them before, and I doubt what I'm seeing of Wanda now is the real her to get to know, but instinct tells me they're tight-knit, exclusive types. Doubt they have or had any friends but each other.
I fall into step beside Wanda.
"I…" she stammers. "I appreciate what you do, waiting to walk me to my room. But really, it is unnecessary. Nothing will happen to me from this side of the facility to another."
I shrug. I never thought that it would, or that she couldn't handle it if something did. "I'm making sure you actually leave. I can't make sure you sleep when you go to your room, but it's something."
She swallows and nods, clasping her small hands in front of her. "I would rather sleep near my brother."
"You don't sleep when you're with him," I state. I've seen it. She watches him the entire time they're together. She'll talk to other people, but her eyes always go back to her brother, as if he'll breathe his last while she's not watching. And that's not fair, because he was almost killed while she wasn't watching.
She's guilty, like me. The kid shouldn't have gotten hurt for me. And I hadn't believed Wanda when she said he wasn't dead. If I hadn't let Steve go through the motions like Wanda insisted, if I'd really pressed that Pietro was dead and Wanda was crazy, well then, the kid would really be dead. That doesn't sit well on my stomach.
Hah. I get on Wanda about not eating enough, and my wife gets on me. Guilt shrinks my appetite to nonexistent. I eat enough to stay functional, but it's not healthy. Who am I to pick on this girl about food …or sleep for that matter? Do I sleep any more than she does?
Probably. I get a few hours in before the nightmares strike, and I end up working out for a few hours before breakfast. I wonder how many hours she gets in.
"It's cold here," Wanda says suddenly and I start, looking at her. She stares straight ahead as we walk toward the elevator. "This place. It's cold, like Strucker's lab, like Hydra. This is a place to make weapons. I belong here."
I frown at her, surprise and worry ringing through me. Where's this coming from? "You're not a weapon, Wanda."
She gives me a humorless half smile. "Oh yes, I am. I wanted to be, so Strucker made me. I wanted to hurt the people who hurt me." She shakes her head. "I am the selfish one. I—Pietro says he wants what I want, because we are the same, but he is not. He seeks to please, he wants me happy. He wishes to protect me. He follows my lead and he does what I tell him. He thinks what I want is more important than anything he wants. He should not be a weapon, Clint. He should not be here."
Can't argue with that last part; Pietro shouldn't be here, but "Neither should you, Wanda," I say. "You're both just kids. You should be in college thinking about keg parties and studying for finals." Normal stuff.
She frowns at me, brows drawing together. "What is a keg party?"
I snort back a chuckle. "Something you don't need to know about. Nah, you shouldn't be thinking about keggers. You're a good girl." Poor kid. What would she know about things like that? "But you should be in school somewhere."
Wanda continues to frown and shakes her head. "School… is not mandatory in Sokovia like I hear it is here. Pietro and I, we read and write, but there was no real school for us. Not since our parents. There was no one to pay for it after that."
I blink at her. No school since… "Your parents, they—didn't they die when you were 10?"
Wanda nods. "My brother and I, we were always advanced. We were at a higher level than most children our age. But, we were only a few years short from when we would have stopped going anyway. There was no money for secondary school. We would have taken jobs."
I stare at her. I shouldn't be shocked. Sokovia isn't a rich, well-developed country. It's a war-torn place of villages and dirt roads with mules for transport in places. Only the cities are semi-modern, but the wealthy are few and far between. That's how a couple of kids slip through the cracks and end up science experiments for Hydra scum.
"How long were you with Hydra?" I ask.
"Since we were 15," Wanda says. She looks thoughtful then. "They did try to give us school there. They made us read and write and taught us history, when we weren't…" She trails off, eyes going dark and haunted.
Anger builds in my chest and I clench my fist, thinking about my special arrows made for gauging out eyeballs. I'll use those next time we go against Hydra. Might make me feel better.
We reach the elevator. Wanda goes in first, then I follow and press '8', the dormitory floor. The medical ward is on the ground floor, closest to the generators and underground evac routes. I use the dorms when I'm on extended missions. Technically, I'm not anymore, and can go home, but… after all this with the twins and Bruce and Nat, I have to stay around. Nat's still a mess about Bruce, Bruce is still gone, Thor's still got his mission, and the Vision is still a damn mystery. The team needs me. And the twins—I can't leave with Pietro so unstable. Not after what he did, not after sitting with his lifeless-seeming body on a transport vehicle, not after Wanda breaking my heart with stories about their past.
The elevator ride seems slower than usual tonight. Wanda leans against the wall, eyes closed, face drawn. "I wish I didn't have to leave him at night."
"Hm?" I watch her.
"He has nightmares, worse than I ever have," she says. "He dreams of our parents falling through the floor, and of being trapped—except he dreams that we die. Sometimes, he dreams that I fell through the floor too. We've slept in the same room always. I…" she bites her lip, "don't know if he has nightmares now, though. His mind is empty, here but not here. He feels more at peace when I'm near, but nothing more."
That piques my interest. "You can talk to him telepathically, right?" I ask.
She nods. "That was my first power. Pietro and I, we are close, but when I was 16 the power came, and it linked us. At first, Strucker thought it was a power for both of us because we are twins, but no. Only for me. But it brings me closer to my brother. I can link to anyone, but I want to be linked to him."
She looks at me with watery eyes. "I cannot lose him, Clint. He died in Sokovia, he died saving you. I felt it, but I wouldn't let him go. I made him come back to me." She looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly and my insides do a strange dance.
What's she talking about?
She hugs herself. "Strucker, Hydra, no one truly knows what I can do. With each new test, it seemed I could do something different. We were still learning when you came. The scientists were going to take us underground. You would never have found us, but I…" She shakes her head and hugs tighter. "Tony Stark and the Avengers were outside the walls, and I wanted to hurt Tony Stark and his precious team. So, I told Pietro I wanted to fight, and, well, he does what I tell him. It's my fault this happened. Everything: Pietro, Ultron… I did it."
The elevator stops and the door dings, Floor 8.
She stares at anything but me as I stare a hole through her. I place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze, not letting go until she looks at me. Her face is wet with tears. "Wanda…" I reach for eloquence, look for the right words, try to channel my wife, but I get, "bad shit happens to everyone. We'd be here forever pointing fingers if we wanted to call out everybody to blame for everything. But what would that help? What does it change? Nothing. Cuz the shit done happened, so let's just clean up and do better next time, huh?"
She blinks at me like I've lost my mind.
I'm used to that look. I'm married.
"Look, your brother loves you so much he'll do anything for you. That's not your fault, and hell, you'll do anything for him, right?"
She nods, wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms.
"Then, you're okay." I hit the 'close door' button on the elevator car to keep the doors from opening. "As for your powers…"
"I'm weird?" Her smile is weak, but genuine.
Telepathy, mind-screwing, telekinesis, glowing red shit that shoots from her hands, and now she says she thinks she resurrected Pietro? "Huh."
"Are you afraid?" she asks. She looks so young and hurt, like one wrong word could shatter her.
"Not of you." I squeeze her shoulder again. The day Clint Barton is afraid of kids is the day Clint Barton retires and starts driving a tractor full time. "Hey, I fight robot armies on flying cities with bows and arrows. Do I seem like the type who scares easy? You're in the right place, kiddo. Just wish you were a lot older. No matter what you say, this isn't a place for kids."
"Strucker called us children too. We are not children. If your parents approve, you can marry at 14 in Sokovia. You can take a paying job at 12. In the eyes of our people, Pietro and I have been adults for seven years." She shrugs. "This place where I am a weapon is better than any other place we've been."
"You'll stay after Pietro gets better," I confirm. I've known that all along, but it doesn't make me happy.
"As you said on the flying city, the minute you step through that door, you're an Avenger." She smiles at me. "You cannot take that back, Clint. I am an Avenger, and when Pietro is better, I will train with the team."
"You don't think Pietro will join the team?" I ask. Of course he will. In fact, as far as any of us are concerned, he joined the team in Sokovia.
Wanda looks away. "I do not want him to. I will tell him this, but he will stay because I am here. He will fight, because I do. But it will be a while before he is in any shape to do this."
I nod. "He's a mess."
She sighs. "But he won't leave me." With another smile, she departs, going in the direction of her room. "Goodnight Clint." She slowly moves out of sight, but before she's out of earshot, I hear her whisper, "Thank you."
I shake my head and grunt, scratching the back of my neck. Damn kids. I head for my usual room, ready to crash for a few hours before the nightmares hit. Too tired to think anymore about abused kids and work. I'll have to think about it all again soon enough. Three hours of a sleep, lots of coffee, lots of weight-lifting and running.
Yup, definitely way too much shit in my life.
Author's Note: What's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Well, any way you liked it, let me know. Please review. Chapter 3 will be up next week, if you're interested. Take care!