Chapter 8 - Where the Heart Is
Wanda's fears weren't just manifested in the daytime. Her nightmares returned for the first time since Peter had joined them in Australia. Since she now wore her bracelets to bed, her nightmares no longer had the possibility of property destruction or sending one of her guardians flying across the room, but they were still debilitating for the young woman. After three nights of waking to her screams, Natasha and Steve thought the nightmares had faded again. It took another two days to realize that Wanda was no longer even attempting to sleep – instead forcing herself to stay awake with copious amounts of caffeine to ensure an escape from the haunting dreams. After a week of almost no sleep, she looked pale and gaunt, her hands shaking.
On Saturday morning, after Peter disappeared with Cooper and Clint to work on what he called a "secret project", Natasha and Steve sat down with Wanda in the living room. "No more caffeine," Natasha told her. "You need to sleep."
"I'm fine," Wanda said, marking her page in the book she was reading and setting it in her lap.
"Your definition of fine is not the same as ours," Natasha replied.
"If you're worried about the nightmares, maybe you can try the sleeping pills for a few days," Steve suggested.
Wanda closed her eyes and shook her head. "Then I just get trapped with the dream," she told them. "Really, I'm fine."
Natasha tilted her head to the side and studied Wanda. "We're not going to argue."
"Good," Wanda responded.
"If you want help, let us know," Steve said, his expression clearly pointing to the fact that he was not on board with Natasha's non-argument plan.
"I'm fine," Wanda repeated.
"Okay," Natasha said, standing. "I'm going for a run. I'll be back in time for lunch." As she headed to her bedroom to change, she looked back at Wanda. "Just an FYI – don't look to the kitchens for tea or coffee – or anything else with caffeine or sugar – they won't let you have it." Wanda groaned and fell back against the sofa. She was still unsure that Natasha wasn't actually a mother; she really knew how to be effective at it. Just to test the warning, Wanda did call the kitchen and ask for tea. Then she felt terrible for the woman who nervously told her that she would be happy to bring her herbal tea. Wanda accepted – at least it was hot. She scowled when she realized there was no sugar on the tray; Natasha had been serious – she was being cut off completely.
It only took another day before exhaustion caught up completely with Wanda. She didn't even know what happened – one minute she was eating dinner in their suite, the next minute she was sobbing hysterically. Natasha and Steve somehow convinced her to swallow a sleeping pill and put her to bed – where she stayed, dreamless, for over two days.
When she woke, she found she wasn't alone. Natasha sat on the chaise lounge in her room, reading a novel and sipping from a mug.
"We were starting to get nervous," Natasha told her. "How do you feel?" She hadn't looked up yet, but she clearly knew Wanda was awake. Wanda sat up and squeezed her eyes shut again; her head was pounding. "Water and Tylenol on the nightstand," Natasha told her. The young woman obediently took the pills and lay back down, rolling to her side.
"How long did I sleep?"
Natasha looked at her watch before answering. "50 hours." She closed her book and stood. "Why don't you get up and get a shower – I'll call the kitchens and have them send something up. Do you want anything particular?" Wanda shook her head. She took her time showering and dressing. By the time she arrived in the living room of the suite, food had arrived. So had a familiar blonde. Sharon Carter was sitting at the small dining table in the corner of the room, drinking a cup of coffee and chatting with Natasha.
"Hi, Wanda," Sharon said cheerfully when she saw her.
"Hello," Wanda answered. She sat at the table and studied the food in front of her. A sandwich and soup – fairly safe. She looked at Sharon. "I am surprised to see you here."
Sharon smiled. "I just got in. I had a few weeks of vacation to use – and as far as the UN and the CIA know, I am currently living it up on a private island owned by Tony."
"That sounds far more relaxing than a jungle in the rainy season," Wanda informed her. "Are you sure you chose wisely?"
"Better company here," Sharon answered. She took what Wanda realized was the last sip from her cup and set it on the table. "I should actually get going – I promised the King we could have a chat this evening." She caught Wanda's eye. "We'll catch up tomorrow?"
Wanda nodded. Sharon left and the young witch went about eating her dinner. It was extra quiet in the suite, she realized. "Where are Peter and Steve?"
Natasha smirked from across the room where she was placing Sharon's coffee mug in the sink in the kitchenette. She topped off her mug and returned to the table, sitting down across from Wanda. "Steve decided it would be a good idea to attempt to train Peter. It has been hilarious."
Wanda smiled. "How so?"
"Peter is terrible at everything Steve wants to teach him – and excels at things Steve can't do." Wanda shook her head; she could only imagine what that would look like. She listened in amusement as Natasha described some of the scenes she'd witnessed.
The next morning, Wanda found herself walking through the estate gardens with Sharon. Both women wore scarves over her hair. Although T'Challa had insisted they do what they were comfortable with, it seemed to make them targets of staring if they chose to forgo any type of headdress. "How do you feel about leaving the Netherlands?" Sharon asked her.
"It doesn't matter. It needed to be done."
"Just because it needed to be done, doesn't mean we can't reflect on how you feel about it. Lack of choice does not insinuate consent. How do you feel about it?"
Wanda shrugged. "I felt comfortable there," she admitted. "Safe."
"What made it feel comfortable and safe?"
Wanda blushed and Sharon knew she had realized what she was hoping to move toward. "Sometimes it's the people, and not the place. And you still have your people," she reminded Wanda.
Wanda nodded. "I had friends." Sharon waited for her to continue. "I had friends my own age for the first time since my parents were alive. It was nice. It almost felt normal."
"There's no reason you can't have that again," Sharon told her. Wanda shook her head.
"I'm too old to keep pretending to be in high school – eventually I have to be an adult. But I have no job skills, no plans for the future – and am still being hunted by a man who wants to throw me in a government lab to be studied."
"You don't have to fix everything at once," Sharon reminded her. "You've made huge strides this year – don't forget that." They spoke for a bit longer, but Wanda's attention had wandered, so little more was accomplished.
Wanda returned to her bedroom to find several stringed instruments lined up under the windows. She recognized the cello, which she was unabashedly thankful to have in her possession again. There was also a harp, a guitar, a violin, viola, and something she didn't recognize with 21 strings. She lifted the cello from its stand and carried it over to a chair in front of another window. She studied the bow and tested it lightly, appreciating the flex and feel of it.
She was bringing the bow to the strings for the first time when the sensation of being watched struck her. Lifting her eyes, she focused in on Natasha, standing inside the doorway with her arms crossed. A light smile played across her lips. "Seriously, I only asked T'Challa for a cello and a guitar. The others he just sent. I think he was excited that someone wanted something from his music room."
"Thank you," Wanda answered. "It was very kind of him – and of you to ask." As a child, she had always wanted to play an instrument. One of their neighbors had played a violin beautifully – she could listen to him for hours through the thin walls – but she had never had access to learn. After Pietro had died and she'd been taken in as an Avenger, things had changed. Steve had wanted her to try something new to distract her. He'd suggested art classes, Natasha had suggested dance or yoga, Sam university classes. It had been Pepper who had offered her a musical instrument. Wanda had tried to refuse it at first, but after Natasha and Steve had watched her become captivated by music several times, they had talked her in to trying something. One trip to the music store had resulted in her cello and a string of classes. She had finished the classes and beginners' books and methodologies before they had moved upstate to the new facilities.
Although she was kept plenty busy with training, learning to use her powers, growing accustomed to the United States, and of course – mourning Pietro, the cello gave her something to escape to that didn't cause anxiety or remind her of her brother. It was hers and hers alone. She had been without it during her time in the prison – and again until they'd reached the Netherlands. Natasha was clearly ensuring that didn't happen again.
That evening, they ate dinner in their suite. They often ate with T'Challa and the others in the main dining room, but occasionally it was nice to have a more low-key meal. Peter spent the majority of the time telling them about a treehouse that the king was allowing them to build just outside one of the gardens. It was the "secret project" he had been working on for several days. It spanned several trees – and was taking on a life of its own. It was also being financed by a king and built by two young boys who were both intelligent and ambitious, so it was turning out to the quite the sprawling project.
"How long do you think this construction is going to last?" Natasha asked, smiling at Steve before taking another bite of her food.
"Oh, I don't know," Peter said. "A few weeks –" He looked troubled suddenly and his expression deflated. "Wait – are we staying that long? How long will we be here?"
Natasha shook her head. "We don't know. As long as it's safe," she told him. "You should keep working on it," she assured him. Whether he was reassured or not was debatable, but he pretended to be. Steve asked him about the purpose of connecting a treehouse to electricity, and Peter started in again on their plans.
Later that night, Natasha brought it up again as she crawled into bed next to Steve. "We've been avoiding it, but we do need to talk about what we do next," she said.
Steve sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "Do you always have to be right?"
"Only 99% of the time," she quipped. She snuggled against him. "We don't have to leave right now – or even soon. But we need to have a plan for when we do leave." They spoke well into the night, discussing options and throwing around ideas.
Within two weeks of their arrival, Sam appeared with Scott and Cassie. The little girl was exhausted and Scott looked worse for the time he'd spent on the run – but T'Challa welcomed them as he had everyone else – and before long, they were clean and fed and sleeping. Natasha accompanied Laura to the suite – and the mother of three had a basket with some of Lila's clothing and a few other little girl necessities that she handed to Scott when he opened the door.
"Hi,'' he said, uncomfortably. "Mrs. Barton?" He asked, almost – but not quite – positive he knew who she was.
"Laura," she said. "And I believe you know Natasha."
"I should hope," Scott said. "She was very good at kicking my ass." He stepped aside and gestured for them to come in.
"You didn't do too badly," Natasha assured him, not quite hiding her smirk. "Unfortunately for you, I've been training since I was younger than Cassie."
He looked shocked and then saddened. He looked toward a closed bedroom door and back again. "That's awful."
Natasha nodded, her eyes sad and solemn. "Yeah, it is." Scott invited them to sit down and Laura asked him how he was.
He shook his head. "It's never really been just me and Cassie. Before I went to jail – I was with her mom. Then when I got out – I got supervised visits, but it was never just the two of us. She misses her mom – and school – and her friends. I can't believe I got her into this mess."
"You'll be fine," Laura promised him. "You have to take it one day at a time. What do you need to get through today?"
"I don't really know," he admitted. Luckily, he was speaking to a woman who did know – and she was determined to help. She helped him come up with a game plan for the day and the week.
Lila loved her family – but now that they were around people she could trust who were not her family, she was in heaven. She had gotten a bit tired of only having her parents and brothers around. She adopted Wanda as her new best friend – and spent as much time as she could finagle with the young woman. Wanda didn't mind, as she assured Laura and Clint often. In fact, spending time with Lila was relaxing. The child had no agenda, no expectations, and no anxiety about the insane world they lived in. Currently, they were in one of T'Challa's outer gardens, a blanket spread out under a flowering tree, on grass that Wanda was certain didn't usually grown in this climate. Lila had brought a small bag of toys and the current book they were reading together while Wanda had a basket from the kitchen staff filled with more than they could possibly eat for lunch.
Lila was playing quietly – and Wanda reading her own book – when new arrivals appeared. Cassie had recovered from the trip and looked around in awe as she clutched Scott's hand and followed Laura into the small clearing. Wanda set her book aside as Natasha appeared and sat next to her. "We thought we would join you," Laura said cheerfully.
"We're so glad – the kitchen gave us more food than we could possibly eat," Wanda explained. Lila smiled in agreement. The two little girls studied one another carefully. They were very similar in size and age.
"Lila, this is Scott Lang, a friend of your dad's – and this is his daughter Cassie," Laura told her. "Cassie, this is my daughter Lila."
Lila looked thoughtful for a moment and then launched herself at Cassie, hugging the little girl. "Do you want to have a picnic?"
Cassie giggled and agreed, sitting down on the blanket with Lila. Laura and Scott sat down as well and they allowed the little girls to lead the conversation. Lila felt it was her duty as a fellow eight-year-old to tell Cassie everything she currently knew about T'Challa's palace and Wakanda. Every tree in their vicinity was named, every flower described, every part of the palace detailed.
"Believe it or not, she gets the talking from Clint," Natasha whispered to Wanda.
"I believe it," Wanda said with a laugh. "I stayed with them for the summer, remember?"
"I never knew how he made it through quiet ops – but he always did – and then as soon as we were extracted, he usually went into hyperverbal overdrive for a day or two."
Wanda watched Cassie and Lila, her smile soft and warm. "It's good, that they have each other."
Natasha nodded. They shared lunch and Laura asked Lila if she wanted to show Cassie her bedroom. The little girl did – and they were off, leaving Wanda and Natasha to gather the picnic remnants together and return them to the kitchen. "I wanted to take a look at the library," Wanda said, referring to the room T'Challa had reminded them again that they were more than welcome to utilize. "Do you know where it is?"
"I do," Natasha responded. She pointed down one of the main hallways and led Wanda to the magnificent room. The light wood and frequent windows that opened onto the jungle gave the room a bright, airy feel. Book cases lined every wall from floor to ceiling. Both women searched the collection – which held books in a multitude of languages. Wanda, still trying to perfect her English, borrowed several classics in that language while Natasha amusedly found a Russian copy of The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky.
On the way back to their suite, Wanda stopped on the second floor and waved Natasha over to a lounge with floor-to-ceiling windows. From it, they could see the treehouse that was being built. They watched with smiles as the boys worked. Steve, Clint, and even T'Challa were there – and they looked as invested as the young boys.
"So who do you think wants this tree house?" Natasha asked. Wanda smiled even brighter. They both gasped in surprise and horror as Clint lost his foothold – but then he righted himself again quickly after catching his own fall by somersaulting to a new branch. "I can't watch this," Natasha told her. Wanda shook her head in agreement and they continued walking up the nearest flight of stairs to the next floor. They spent the afternoon reading and then watching a movie together while waiting for the boys to return in - hopefully - one piece each.
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