Please don't hate me. Read the end bit for an explanation on why I haven't updated for like...four months?!
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THIS MANY REVIEWS MADE ME SO HAPPY! PLEASE KEEP IT UP!
Wanda POV
"Uhh," I groaned, being pinned down on the mat. Again.
James and I had been sparring for half an hour. I lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and sighed. "Come on..." James blocked the light above my head, casting a shadow over me. Sighing, I looked up at his face cut from god and couldn't help but feel a little disgusted with myself. I was covered in sweat and most likely sporting a double chin from my position on the floor.
"Wanda?" James said, raising his eyebrows at me. I shook my head a little and blinked, snapping myself out of the daze. I didn't want to put myself down about it, at least not right now. I pushed myself to stand and James stepped back to let me. "What was that about?"
I shook my head and put my fists up. "I'm just annoyed I'm not getting this," I lied.
He frowned as he shook his head. He reached forward and took my hands, pushing them down to my sides. "Don't look for movement, look for openings," he said softly. "Openings are where you want to punch, but don't lose focus of other openings when you punch. Be alert to what I do and pay attention to my movements. Everybody has a favourite fighting style, so look for repetition."
I nodded and stepped back slightly, going over his instruction. 1) Openings 2) Be alert of his body. I hadn't thought about the openings thing before he mentioned it. My last trainer was more focused on my abilities, which meant I didn't really need to think of openings, more the movements made and how to block them.
I took a breath and brought my fists back up. He raised an eyebrow as if he were asking whether I was ready, but I immediately pushed my fist out. He immediately dodged my attack, moving his head smoothly away to the side to avoid it. He did everything so elegantly, unlike my own body movements in battle. His body was so different to mine - his face, his body, his hair, everything. He didn't understand how beautiful he was.
He batted my arm away and stepped forward. I noticed his arms rising to attack, but noticed an 'opening' as Bucky called it. I immediately kicked him in the chest, shocking him slightly as he stumbled backward. I was concentrated on the fight, pushing myself to focus on surprising him with punches.
I sprinted forward and tackled his waist in a split second. I slammed him to the ground, pushing past his strength, and pinned him. My hands were clasped tightly around his wrists with my legs locking him waist between the mat and me. I was breathing heavily, watching as his eyes looked up at me with slight bewilderment.
I smiled at him for a few seconds before I pushed myself off of him to stand. He slowly stood up and I saw his lips begin to pull into a smirk. "Where did that come from?"
I shrugged. "I take instructions well," I quipped back. I couldn't contain my grin as I aimed for another blow to his face.
An hour later
"It was so intense." Natasha and I were speaking in the living room, away from the boys who were in the kitchen with Maria and Pepper. I was speaking to her about earlier this afternoon, reliving the moment that James told me he would try not to hurt me with our foreheads together. "For a minute, I genuinely thought he was going to kiss me."
I didn't know how I would react if he did that. Would I have kissed him back or not? He wasn't thinking clearly at the minute, perhaps a little clearer than a few weeks ago, but not clearly. I didn't know how I felt about it all, but Natasha knew how to feel about it.
She barely raised her eyebrows. "That's a bad idea."
I gave her a look that said 'well, duh!' Obviously, I couldn't form a relationship like that with James. He was too troubled to sort that out as well. Even if we did, I could turn into a lifeline for him, which would make him lose his independence. Thinking about it though, James was the most independent person I'd ever met. He was perfectly capable of surviving alone and did for two years, not that it was a good idea.
"Have you read through the bad press yet?" Natasha asked, uncrossing her knee to smoothly stand up in one motion. I wished I could do that as gracefully as she could. I wished I could do anything as gracefully as she could.
"Not yet, but I will later on," I explained, standing with her.
"Make sure you do," she said with a polite smile and walked into the kitchen with me. Natasha didn't mean to be rude, it certainly wasn't her intention. I knew she was only pushing me because she wanted me to be prepared for the interview tomorrow. I sighed and followed her.
"Woah, nice outfit Maximoff," was the first thing I heard when I entered the kitchen. Sam.
I rolled my eyes at him as I went to get a glass of water. "Piss off, Sam," I replied as politely as I could. I had no time for that today. As James and I had just finished another workout, I was still wearing my sports bra and leggings. The training session was definitely a success, especially as he didn't ask me to take my top off this time.
"I mean it! Don't she look good, Barnes?" I saw the slight look of panic flicker across his face as he looked at me. I knew Sam was messing with him slightly, but handling this might actually do him some good, so I left James to answer.
"Yes..." he said, holding my gaze for a few seconds before looking back at Sam. I noticed the small blush on his cheeks. Mentally wincing, I told myself it must be difficult for him. Things weren't as...tight in his day. He probably didn't notice that type of thing though, his opinion on attractiveness completely distorted.
"See! Take the compliment!" Sam said, throwing his hands in the air like I was crazy for not thinking I looked good. I filled up my water and decided to ignore Sam's banter, rolling my eyes. He wasn't being creepy, he wasn't like that. We had grown to be friends during our training as new Avengers before the Accords happened. It was nice to meet some people who were going through the same sort of situation I was.
Rhodey announced he was serving up as I moved to sit next to the spare seat with James, but Natasha got there first. I didn't argue, knowing that she was doing this as a little extra reminder that I wasn't to get close to him. Instead, I moved to sit next to Clint who immediately put his arm around me for a side hug.
"There's my favourite Avenger," he said as I squeezed a hug back to him. I think my favourite thing about Clint was that he was essentially normal compared to everyone else. He didn't have any superpowers, he wasn't an unemotional bitch and he really did have a heart. He was slowly turning into a father figure for me.
"I thought I was your favourite," Sam said with a pout.
"Excuse me, it's obviously me."
"There is no competition. It's me." Natasha said with such a definitive tone that it almost scared me.
"Dinner is served," Rhodey said, placing five large glass dishes of cheese and potato bake on the table that would usually be way too much for a usual family. All of the dishes were for everyone, but everyone knew that Steve practically had one for himself, needing the strength to sustain being a super-soldier.
I was worried about James as he was a super-soldier too. He ate less because he was partly punishing himself though, not because he wasn't hungry. I noticed Natasha take his plate and serve him practically half of one of the dishes. At least she was helpful with that.
Dinner was mediocre. I wasn't too focused on the conversations being had and I didn't input much. I was too busy thinking about tomorrow. What if there is a huge protest outside with people wanting to put my head on their pitchforks?
I felt a hand on my back, stroking me. I looked at Clint and he smiled, stroked me once more and then returned to eating food. Once we finished, I collected some of the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Clint and James joined me, closely followed by Nat.
"You okay, chick?" Clint asked and I nodded.
"Mmm-hmm" I hummed, but even I didn't believe me. I sighed as I washed one of the plates and placed it on the dishwasher rack. "I'm just nervous about tomorrow."
"Don't be. As long as you're prepared, you'll be fine," Natasha said smiling for a second before leaving the three of us to it.
We all watched her walk away and I noticed Clint frown. "What's up with her?" Thank goodness it wasn't only me that noticed she was being a bitch to me at the moment.
"I don't know," I replied, placing a piece of cutlery in the dishwasher. "She's getting on my nerves though," I added, shoving the next piece of cutlery in its place with a little more anger.
Clint dried his hands and smiled at me. "I'll talk to her," he said, quickly running out of the room as well. Once he was out of earshot, James spoke up.
"What's Natalia done?" he asked in a calm tone, unlike how he sounded yesterday when he found out someone cheated on me in my youth. However, the pair of them obviously had history and she seemed to be the only person to get into his heart. Maybe they slept together or something? Perhaps had a relationship whilst he was in HYDRA?
I shook my head. "Nothing. She just arranged this public interview for me tomorrow and told me to research the bad press written about me in order to prepare for questions they might throw at me."
I finished stacking the dishwasher and shut it, crouching down to set the wash. "Oh," was all James said. I couldn't even tell if he meant it sincerely or angrily or calmly. He was so difficult to read sometimes.
"Yeah, it's not her fault," I told him, pressing the buttons to start the wash. I stood up to look at him. "I know she's looking out for me."
"What's making you nervous?" he asked, placing his hip against the side and crossing his arms. The start of this conversation felt more like an interrogation, which made me feel a little nervous.
I released a deep breath. "They could be waiting outside with pitchforks, they'll definitely be asking intimate questions as I haven't had the chance to ever be interviewed before, there will be people judging me in their masses. If I make one mistake the whole world is going to see. Can you see why I'm nervous?"
James stared at me for a moment before nodding and looking to the ground. I didn't realise until I'd finished speaking that I had raised my voice at him. "Sorry," I said, noticing how I had made my voice quieter for him. His head didn't move from where it was focused on the ground.
I took a step towards him and he looked up when I got only a few feet away from him. His metal hand was placed on the side and I slowly placed my hand on it, watching for panic in his eyes. Even tough they widened slightly when I first touched the metal, they seemed reasonably calm the rest of the time. Bless him, I knew he was pushing himself to not look agitated by me touching the metal arm.
"I didn't mean it," I told him softly, threading my thumb underneath his and gently clasping his hand.
"You didn't hurt me," he said, turning his palm to face up. I held his hand a little tighter and his fingers slowly, very slowly, folded against mine. Our hands were together, one of metal and one of flesh.
"I don't like seeing you upset." My heart felt like it was going to melt at his words. He was honestly the sweetest man in the world, though the world may not see him that way. He was talking about not liking to see me upset, but I had just shouted in his face. I think I partly triggered his anxiety, but he didn't mention it.
"Tomorrows just a big deal to-"
"I forgot my-"
I pulled my hand away like I was touching fire. I immediately regretted doing so. I could feel the anxiety in James spike, not needing just my powers to detect it. The look on his face made me feel ever so guilty. Clint was at the door but paused when he saw us.
He didn't linger long, noticing the expressions on our faces. "...phone..." he said after a pause that felt like it stretched on forever. He smiled at James and I before quickly picking it up and dashing from the room.
"Let's train," he said and walked straight out of the room. Dammit.
I chased after him but decided to stay quiet until we had gotten to my room with more privacy. He decided to stay standing once we entered, still not feeling comfortable enough to sit straight down on the bed.
"Look-"
"It doesn't matter," James said, going to stand by the window. I noticed that he got like this sometimes, not knowing what to do himself. The lack of social interaction during his training with HYDRA had a part to play with that, I bet. He would walk to the biggest window or the darkest corner of the room to stay away. I found it strange but didn't judge him for the way he reacted.
"Yes, it does," I argued, walking towards him. He turned, probably hearing my footsteps. He looked hurt and I felt so guilty. "I didn't want him to see us like that because Natasha said that she doesn't want us getting close."
I didn't want to look at his face, but I knew I needed to in order to show how I was telling the truth. He looked at me in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what I'd said. "What does that mean?"
"She means..." I pulled my lips into a thin line as I considered the best wording to say what I needed to. "She means that she doesn't want us to get too close and be sexually involved with one another." Rip it off, like a band-aid. "Which isn't anything that I'm looking for, but I just thought I would let you know that that's why I don't want anybody thinking we are more than what we are just in case Natasha finds out."
"Why does that matter to you?" he asked, without leaving a second to process what I had just said. His question had an easy answer that I didn't want to say, but he seemed to read my mind. "Does she scare you?"
I scoffed, even though that was 100% the reason why it mattered. James did not look convinced by my reaction at all.
I rolled my eyes. "I know I shouldn't be, but she's kinda my boss," I said with a shrug and moved to sit down on the bed, hearing the soft duvet cover crumple as I did.
"She can't tell you who to like," he replied, still standing up. He folded his arms over and I noticed he shook his head quickly. "I didn't mean me..." he said, a small blush flaring on his cheeks. I raised an eyebrow at him as he began to stutter.
"I didn't m-mean that about me directly, but...I just..just mean...in general that she can't tell you who to be interested and who not to be interested in." he clarified, waving his hands around. He was staring at anything but me and I didn't blame him, because I would've probably done the same in his situation. He reminded me of Steve in the same way he dealt with it, with me - a woman. I laughed in my head but was secretly quite nervous.
"I wasn't even thinking that about...the way you said it," My goodness. I clasped and unclasped my hands and tried to get ahold of myself. What a pair of fumbling idiots. I sighed. "I didn't think you implied that at all, James. It's fine." I hadn't done boys, at least not after HYDRA. I had kissed a few people at parties, but nothing more.
He was quiet for a second, his cheeks still a flavoursome shade of rouge, before he gave a nod and came to sit down next to me. "Good, I'm glad we are on the same page."
James POV
She nodded and pulled her legs beneath her. "Did you find the list helpful?" she asked in her sweet voice.
I nodded and undid the laces of my shoes, noticing she had no shoes on. "Yeah, it was a really good suggestion..." I faltered slightly as I realised I hadn't done what she asked. "I didn't end up doing anything on the list though, not yet."
She looked at me as she slipped off the final shoe. "Was sketching not on the list?"
Thinking back on it, it wasn't there. I did enjoy sketching, earlier today showed that. "Yeah...I guess that would count. I'll add it later on," I replied, slipping off my last shoe and mimicking the position she had slipped into with her feet tucked underneath her.
"That's good," she said, placing her hand's face upwards in front of her. "Now for the fun part of tonight."
I scrunched my nose up at her choice of words. She frowned slightly. "What?" she said, clenching and unclenching her hands as if that would make mine would magically pop into them.
"I wouldn't describe it as fun," I replied as I reluctantly slipped my hands into hers.
"I feel like you will find this session to be fun," she said with a smile. What is she up to? I liked it when Wanda acted mischievously around me. It was a fun part of her that I was beginning to really enjoy being around. I think I just enjoyed being around her in general. She was different to the others, but perhaps it was her background of Sokovia that did that to her.
"So, I was talking with Steve," she began and I rolled my eyes at her. "Hey!" she scowled, a small smile on her face. "Steve is a nice person."
"Sometimes," I said, shrugging. She shook her head, but I noticed the way her chest moved and could tell she was laughing. All the man needed to do was give me some space. It was difficult for Steve. He was always protective, even before he became 'Captain America'. When we were younger, he would get himself into fights and try and defend me, take all the punches, but he would never physically be able to stand his ground. Poor kid.
"As I was saying," she said with a slightly stern look as she restarted her sentence. "I spoke to him and talked about your memories. I think I should let you know that yours are quite scattered," she admitted, pouting a little that showed she was a little shy and nervous about my reaction. "I guess that you already knew that."
I nodded and looked down at the duvet. "I had a feeling." Gee, I was a mess.
Wanda smiled and lightly squeezed my hands as if sensing I was self-deprecating. "Well, because of that scattering I think it would be a good idea for you to have a base. It's an area that we can go to when I am exploring your mind that is safe for you. It won't contain memories and you can relax there."
I looked at her a little skeptically. "That sounds a little complicated to create." A base for myself? What does that even mean?
"It's not that difficult, trust me," she said, squeezing my hands again and smiling. "You ready?"
I nodded and shut my eyes. I didn't know whether creating 'a base' was a good idea or not, but what else did I have to lose? I felt her delicate hands press softly against mine as she began telling me what to do.
"Think of a place you feel comfortable whether it be back in the 1940s or recently. Picture it in your head, what the place looks like, how it feels to be there, how it smells, how you would be dressed. Let it overwhelm your senses until you feel like you're there."
I cleared my mind and tried to let myself think of somewhere like that. I couldn't think of somewhere on the spot, so I eliminated environments where I wasn't comfortable. That meant not at the Avengers Tower, definitely not during my time at HYDRA and nowhere whilst I was on the run. That only left one period of time.
"Have you thought of it? If not, take your time and tell me when you do," Wanda whispered sweetly to me.
"I have it." I sat up a little straighter, feeling my lungs expand and released with calming air.
"Good. Now, I want you to focus on all of those feelings in that environment - the objects in that place, the smell, the sounds, even the temperature. Envision as much detail as you can and then when you feel your senses recognise that environment, open your eyes."
The furniture was always ratty and old, not one piece matching the others. The cushions were embroidered, the memory vivid in my mind. The room was made out of bricks. On one side, a fireplace that was nearly falling apart lit with the smallest flame. Some firewood was always beside it along with a desk table. The door was wooden with small chips on it. There was an unused gramophone in the corner, polished without a speck of dust remaining. One armchair was positioned on the right-hand side of the fireplace with the sofa opposite it.
I could hear the sound of cars outside and children playing as people usually did outside this place. The crackle from the fireplace could barely be heard. The smell of fresh air filled my eyes and the scent almost forced my eyes to open up.
Wanda was standing there with a small smile on her face. "Where are we?" she asked, looking around the room. She walked forward and let her fingertips grace the top of the couch. The way she was touching my memory was similar to the way she touched me - with caution and delicacy.
"It was my house," I said simply. I think she could understand what time period we were in by the decor.
"From the 1940s? You must've been so young," she said, walking over to the gramophone.
"Yeah, I was," I replied, walking over to the painting of me as a five-year-old with my mother beside me that always sat above the fireplace.
"And you feel comfortable here, yes?" she asked, the 'yes' at the end of her sentence somehow highlighting her Sokovian accent more than usually. Her accent was original and beautiful.
"Absolutely," I said, allowing myself to slump into the armchair that my sister usually sat in.
"Who lived here?" she asked, walking around the rest of the room. The fact that my childhood peaked her interest made me smile as it showed she was genuinely interested in me as a person.
"My mother, father and sister lived her when I was younger. My sister, who was older than me, moved out a few years before I was recruited into the army." I explained, letting the familiar feeling of the armchair sink in.
"What were their names?" Wanda asked, turning her head to me.
"Winifred and George were my parents," I said as she walked over and took a seat on the sofa near me. I think they were good parents, at least the records always state that they were. "Rebecca was my sister."
Wanda lifted her hand out and placed it on my forearm. After following her hand movement, I looked up and noticed the sympathetic look on her face. "It must be difficult without them." I'd seen Rebecca once or twice, but I hadn't been to visit her in a while. I couldn't think about that right now.
I grimaced, not really wanting to reply to her words. How could I? I just stood up, letting her hand slip from my forearm, and faced her. "What's the point in this 'base' then?"
Clearly seeing that I wanted to move on from the subject of my family, she nodded and stood with me, explaining the idea around my 'base'.
"It's a place to relax if the memories get too much for you. They are practically made of glass, very fragile, so dealing with them can be too much to deal with at once. This would be a way to escape, but not go back to the 'real' world. We can sit here on the couch and look at your memories," she explained.
"Sounds simple now that we are here," I replied, looking at the room. It was the spitting image of my living room, one of the only things I could remember because it filled so much of my childhood. However, part of me couldn't trust my own thoughts. I felt like some of the room elements had to be fabricated from imagination rather than my real memory.
"Nice clothes by the way," she said. I looked down at my outfit noticing that my clothes had changed. I was now wearing a white shirt that was slightly too big for me tucked into some black trousers. "You can change my outfit if it would make you more comfortable," she suggested.
I noticed that she was still in the sports bra and leggings that she was wearing before we merged our minds. Not exactly appropriate forties attire. "I don't mind," I replied, not wanting to be impolite.
"It might help you," she suggested with a shrug of one shoulder. I nodded in agreement with her. It put me off that she was so different compared to the rest of the room. "Close your eyes and picture the type of outfit that a forties women my age would wear."
I did as she asked and thought. When I opened my eyes again after a few seconds, her clothing had changed. She was now wearing a white blouse tucked into a long, knee-length skirt. She was wearing red lipstick and a light touch of makeup. Her hair was put into a bun at the back of her head, which was strange to see as I usually saw it in a ponytail or let down. "Your hair looks nice like that," I blurted before I could stop myself.
I saw her blush and look down at the floor, laughing nervously as she wore her new outfit and fiddled with the material of the skirt. "Thank you," she replied with as much confidence as she could muster.
I understand that it's awful that I never upset, but like writing a book, the author takes their own time to write it and this is just me taking time when I have it out of my university schedule to do so, so I'm begging you not to get angry that I don't update as much as other authors. My mother can't walk and I've been stressed with University, so I'm sorry for not updating enough. Believe me, if I could write fanfiction all day, I would. However, I want to tell you now that I am planning on writing much more over the next few months.
Please take the time to review and creating this story isn't a piece of cake :P I am planning for many many MANY chapters, so please have faith in meeeee! THANK YOU DARLINGS!