Note: There's a little bit of violence and drunkeness in this scene. You've been warned.
"No problem, Bruce. We're headed back to the Tower right now." Muffled voices danced in circles around in her head. Bree nestled down into the warmth surrounding her, a small sigh escaping. "Okay. See you in a bit," finished a warm, female voice somewhere in front of her as a beeping noise sounded once.
"What's he think?" asked a voice from her left. Male. She briefly thought that maybe she should be concerned, but it was far too comfortable. After a few seconds she could vaguely distinguish the voices, just enough to realize that she wasn't in immediate danger. Her mind was too foggy to comprehend what they were saying, anyway.
"He says she should fine, just a stress reaction. Although I'm not sure the whole passing-out thing is normal." Same female voice as before.
"Why do you think she reacts so strongly?" Different voice now, immediately to her right. Quieter.
"I don't know. Would size have anything to do with it?" responded the woman. An accented girl's voice spoke up.
"That file you guys found- didn't it say she had memory issues or something like that? Head trauma?"
"Could be. Steve, did it mention what had happened specifically?" There was silence for a moment.
"No. The file just said that there was an accident when she was 9, and that she has vague memories of before that. It said that her memory worked fine after that though. It doesn't seem like she's got any lasting head injuries." The conversation faltered as Bree curled up tighter in the cold air-conditioned car.
"Bree?" came a quiet voice from the front. She muttered something incoherent in reply, and there was a chuckle.
"I don't think she'll be fully waking up anytime soon." The whispered, mechanical humming, combined with the familiar voices floating around, shushed her back into a sleep.
Pepper glanced in the rear view mirror as the girl shuffled around in her sleep. Happy had offered to come and pick them up, but they already had two cars in the parking lot. No need to make it three. Clint, Natasha, and Vision were taking the car that the pair of spies had driven over earlier after Clint had claimed that Tony's wheels be forgotten, he was getting a cheeseburger, dang it. Natasha had rolled her eyes and shared a look with the girls, who all neglected to tell him it was already takeout night. Better hope Bruce and Vision don't pick burgers, she had thought idly. Wanda had claimed shotgun, much to the super-soldiers' unamusement, so now she sat, gaze flickering to where Bree was curled up. The small redhead had seemed to faint while walking out to the car, so they had her laying out with her head on Roger's knees and feet on Bucky's. The obvious discomfort of the two had almost made her feel bad for claiming the passenger seat -almost - but Wanda shrugged it off. She was certain they had been in worse situations than having to deal with a fainted 16 year old girl. The said girl's mind was peaceful when Wanda had checked once she stirred, seeming to recognize the team and trust them. They finally pulled up to the Avengers Tower, and once gaining clearance from FRIDAY, parked in the garage where Bruce was waiting. It had surprised Pepper to see how relaxed their doctor had been in taking care of Bree. Normally he was very reserved and quiet upon meeting new people, but he seemed relatively talkative to Bree. Maybe it's because he sees her as more of a patient? Pepper wondered as she opened the car door. Steve popped the door open and gently scooped up Bree.
"She's about as small as an eleven year old," he mused as Bruce held open the door to the lobby. The elevator carried them up to the main level, where Tony stood leaning against the counter, tracing something on his phone.
"Oh goodie, you're back. How's the kid?" he said, giving the group a sideways glance.
"Fine, we think. Just overly stressed. Bruce, where do you want me to put her?" The doctor shrugged, motioning to the couch.
"It'd be easiest if we could just lie her on the couch and attach the monitor out here. I still have some work to do and I don't want to do it in the infirm. We need better chairs in there." Steve nodded and lightly placed Bree onto the couch in the living room.
"Hey Wanda, you think you could find Bree's memories? The ones from when she was younger, I mean," Pepper wondered. Wanda shrugged, looking intrigued.
"I could try," she replied, glancing at the sleeping form. "It might be easier to try now, when her thoughts aren't muddled." Bruce gave her a cautious look.
"Just be careful," he said, slipping out of the room. Pepper busied herself in work emails and Wanda nearly rolled her eyes.
"It's Sunday, Pepper. You need a break once in awhile." Pepper sighed teasingly and clicked on the next one.
"I like working, thank you very much," she retorted and this time Wanda actually rolled her eyes and shook her head. Bruce returned with his laptop and set up something around Bree's wrist. Tony plopped down next to him once he sat down in the kitchen, and bothered him about random trivia facts. Wanda turned back to Bree and closed her eyes. Each mind had it's own feel, or flavor so to speak. It was simple to access the immediate memories of the past weeks or so, even several months. It was easy until Wanda hit a block. She frowned in concentration, feeling for a way around it. There was almost a sickly sweet feel to it, a haze surrounding the memories. She pushed harder, cautious of not waking Bree up. A slow trickle seeped out, and Wanda quickly seized it, raising her eyebrows when she spied a familiar face.
"It would be my honor," she said, giving a small curtsy and a huge grin. The dreaded voice called across the museum, ripping her out of the moment.
"Elle? C'mon, we're leaving," she said gruffly. Bree scowled, knowing what would happen next. Her mother would rant for hours in a rage, sometimes at Bree, sometimes at her father, sometimes at the both of them, then leave her at the apartment, provided Bree didn't do anything to make her too mad. Sometimes, if she got lucky, the nice old lady next door would leave her lasagna, or even better - mac n' cheese.
"That's not my name, Momma," Bree said, walking towards her anyway. It was better to just give in before a riot started.
"Close enough," the mother grumbled, taking her by the arm and dragging her out. Bree glanced back at the haunted man - the one watching her with a mix of confusion and sympathy. He stepped forward, as if to say something or stop the woman, but thought better of it. Bree's heart dropped once the got outside into the crisp spring air and heading toward Bree's least favorite place- the local bar. She sighed and crossed her arms, yanking her wrist out from her mother's grasp and twisting the hair ties down to make up for the one she had just given away.
"I can't go in there, Momma. I got kicked out last time. And the time before that."
"Don't sass me," the woman snapped. She thought for a moment before shrugging. "Alright, whatever. Just go back to the apartment." With that, the woman strolled into the bar, leaving a shivering child old behind. She stared for a moment, then sprinted back to the warmth of the museum. Usually her dad would lead her home, showing her the way in case she ever was without him. The security guard didn't notice the tiny child slipping back in (or perhaps he did, and just felt sorry for her) and she scanned the room. But the man from before was gone. She sighed and went to the front desk to ask for a map.
The memory teetered out and Wanda hissed in frustration, though she was pretty proud of how far she had gotten. She mentally made a note to ask Bucky about that later. She tried to make the mental block a little weaker, a small smile growing when it worked.
"C'mon kids, we're leaving," the booming voice said. Bree cringed, scanning the room, panicked. There were blankets strewn everywhere, and the few meager toys on the floor. Not to mention, the kitchen was a mess, and Benton was curled up on the couch asleep.
"Momma! Y-you're home early!" the girl squeaked out. The woman rolled her eyes and staggered, pushing off the wall.
"We're leaving this place. Pack up. Stupid job, stupid rent, stupid kids," the mother muttered, continuing the rant under her breath.
"What do you mean, we're leaving?" Narrow eyes whirled toward her and Bree quickly wished she hadn't asked.
'I mean, we're going to stay with a friend for a while. Let's get going, move," the woman prodded. She quickly shook Benny awake and he rubbed his eyes blearily.
"Wass wrong, Bee?" She shook her head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off the couch.
"Momma's home early. We're moving. C'mon, help me pack." The one year old frowned at the instructions, but picked up a few items and tossed them towards his sister. The older girl tossed everything into a cardboard box that had been in the corner. "Good thing we never got rid of the moving boxes from last year. Alright, is that everything?" Bree scanned the room one last time before instructing her brother to stay put. She hurried into her mother's room, where the woman was on the phone.
"I'ma telling you, they're gonna find me. I'm so overdue on rent, it wouldn't matter soon anyway." There was a pause and Bree knocked on the door frame. Squinted eyes peered back at her, contrasting with the wide innocence of the girl's.
"We're done," she said simply, gripping the box tighter. The woman nodded and flipped the phone shut.
"Good girl, Anna." Bree mentally rolled her eyes at the sad attempt at her name. Her father had picked out her name when she was born, and her mother never called her by her real name. Whether in defiance, or just always being drunk, she didn't know. The woman grabbed a bottle from the pile and took a drink, shuddering as she swallowed. "Time to go." The woman hitched a duffel bag over her shoulder, clinking noises coming from inside. Bree grabbed the box and went back to the kitchen, grabbing Benton's hand. Even at eight years old, she knew well enough not to question. 'Six moves in two years' she thought with a sigh.
There was something big coming, Wanda could feel it. Something big, something dark. The accident, maybe? She wondered if she should press harder, try to find it. If she opened her eyes to check on Bree, she could lose concentration. With a sigh, the dug deeper.
"You need to calm down. Now." Bree winced as the poor boy was grabbed the the shoulder and yanked back to walk beside their mom. They were walking to the grocery store since her mother didn't have fare for a taxi. Benton kept veering off the busy sidewalk into the crowds. It was Bree's fault, really. She had let the woman in blue give Benny his first candy (a pixie stick). Now he was paying the price for the sugary treat that was making him hyper.
"He had sugar, Mom. It's not his fault." The woman scowled at her.
"Where did he get sugar? I don't feel you that junk." Bree shook her head.
"There was a few police officers outside our apartment today, and they offered it to us when we walked out. They were awfully nice," she chimed as Benny nodded. Her arm was twisted as the woman stopped in her tracks, much to the glares of the crowd hurrying past. The woman tightened her grip on the bottle in her other hand.
"What did you say?" she asked in a steely voice. Bree gulped.
"A police officer offered Benny and I pixie sticks? I didn't take it, 'cause I do-ow!" she yelled as the woman grabbed her hair.
"There were police outside the apartment? Did they ask you anything?" Bree nodded the best she could without hurting her scalp any more.
"Yeah, we stopped to talk for a little while. Asked us our names, who our parents were, which apartment we lived in."
"Why do you look so angry, Momma?" Benny piped up. There was a shout and a crash. Everything went blurry as screams rang out, followed by more yelling. The last thing she saw was Benton's worried face peering at her as she closed her eyes.
"Oh my goodness," Wanda breathed out. A muffled yelp made her open her eyes. Bree was twitching on the couch, visibly affected by the memories being dredged up. Wanda quickly tried to give her the sense of peacefulness back. It must have worked a little, because she sighed and stopped moving. Pepper looked at Wanda expectantly as she got up and stretched.
"Find anything?" With a jolt of surprise, Wanda realized that quite a bit of time had passed. The blinking clock read 6:03 PM on the microwave and the pale sky outside was dimming. Tony and Bruce were no longer at the table, instead their seats taken by Steve and Natasha, who were discussing some mission from a few months ago while she was also playing Uno with Clint. Bucky was reading a book in the chair next to the TV.
"Yeah, I think I did. I'm not sure she'll ever be able to actually remember them normally, but I was able to drag a few up." The crash of a bottle in the memory echoed in her ears. "We're going to have to talk to Tony about drinking around her." Pepper frowned in concern, glancing at the sleeping child who at some point had been covered with a blanket. Wanda shook her head slightly, forcing the memory out and turned to Bucky. "You never told us you had met her before." An almost amused look crossed his face as Steve, Natasha, and Pepper turned toward him in interest.
"So it was her," he mused, shrugging.
"Wait, what?" Steve asked, eyebrow raised. He shrugged again and turned back to his book. Wanda rolled her eyes at the lack of explanation.
"When Bree was like, six, she saw him in the museum and recognized him from the picture in the Captain America exhibit," she explained. An impressed look flitted across Natasha's features.
"Why didn't you mention that when we first picked her up?" Pepper asked, clicking off her phone. Bucky shrugged again (which, Wanda had learned in the past few months, was sorta his answer for most things).
"That time's a little hazy. I wasn't even sure if it was the same kid. I mean, she was even smaller than now, which is saying a lot," he said with almost a smile. Natasha smirked and laid the final card down in their card game. Clint grabbed the cards and scowled as Bruce and Vision walked (er, floated, in Vision's case) out of the chiming elevator.
"We brought burgers and fries!" Bruce announced. Clint nodded in approval as Natasha frowned at him.
"Didn't you have the same takeout for lunch?" Pepper reminded him, amused. Clint glanced at the plastic bag to confirm it was indeed the same place he had eaten at earlier. He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
"My dear Pepper. You can never have too many fries."
(A/N: Hey guys! This is sorta kinda a filler chapter (kinda), but it's a good look at Bree's past to understand her a bit better. I know I probably took a few liberties in Wanda's powers. Oops. So here's a question for you readers: would you prefer the shorter, 2,000 word chapters like most of these I've been doing, or the longer chapters around 4,000 words like Chapter 3 was? I just want to know the preference so I can plan accordingly. OOh! Also, there's going to be some action next chapter. Yay! Thanks to all the favoriters, followers, and reviewers! You guys make my day! Feel free to leave me any ideas, (constructive) criticism, or just reviews. :)