Wow! It's certainly been a while! I'm sorry, you guys. Seriously! This chapter did not want to write itself. I think I finally got into the rhythm again, and with a quick rework of the next few chapters, I finally feel excited to write this again! I hope this installment doesn't suck too much…
To those of you still wanting to read this, thank you. Thank you so much.
Wanda had spent the entirety of yesterday holed up in her room. The only time she came out was to accept the homework from Jane in the afternoon, during the time Papa wasn't home. She knew his daily routines and played her cards right, and he hadn't even known she was there all day. When Jane came, she didn't even need to feign illness, as she looked horrible as it was. After ushering Jane away and assuring her that the one can of soup she'd brought would be plenty, she went back to relaxing.
The next day she felt a little better. Still hurting all over, but at least slightly more emotionally stable.
She left her house on time, not wanting to be late after having taken a day off. She made it halfway down the street before she saw the one person she'd been dreading seeing. Bruce.
He noticed her and waved. She saw that his stance was a bit unsure, like hers. Deciding that he was way too important as a friend to let her issues push him away, she crossed the street to meet him.
"Hey," she said as they resumed walking together. Her voice held nervousness, as she wasn't sure what he was thinking after the other night. He probably thought that she was mental, and highly ungrateful to friends that only wanted to help. The first might be true, but she needed him to know that the latter was not.
"Hey," he greeted back.
They walked for a block before she blurted out, "I'm so sorry, Bruce."
He seemed confused. "For what?"
"Being crazy," she laughed. It was more of a defense mechanism than humor. "Calling you in the middle of the night and then flipping out on you when you tried to help. It was really sucky of me."
He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I pushed where I shouldn't have; it wasn't my business."
"It was, though. Because we're friends." She chanced a sideways glance at him. "At least, I still hope so?"
"Of course we are," he said with the utmost certainty. "I get it. No one understands more than me. I know you'll come to me or any of us when you're ready to confront whatever's going on. And I'll be here."
She felt hot tears brimming behind her eyes, forcing them away. "Thank you."
"Just- just promise me that you're safe?" Bruce looked expectantly at her.
She gulped. Lying felt wrong. Telling the truth felt wrong. God, she needed a pros and cons list right now. But he was expecting an answer. She forced a smile on her face. "I'm safe," she said. She could always go back later and say she wasn't if she needed to. However there would be no going back from telling him what was going on.
He seemed satisfied with her answer, meaning he probably believed her. The deception left a bad taste in her mouth. She reminded herself that it was for her family, for Pietro, and most of all to keep them together. And her problems weren't automatically his problems.
"So, anything happen while I was gone?" She asked. Probably not much.
His steps faltered for a half-second as he cleared his throat. "Well," he sounded uneasy, spiking her interest. "There's a lot to catch you up on."
"I have time," she urged. He began to fill her in on all of the excitement of the day before.
By the time they reached the school, he had finished his retellings of yesterday and her mind was left reeling. Sure, she hadn't been the closest to Loki of all her friends, but she had thought she'd known him.
"Woah," she let out a whistle when he finished retelling the dramatics of yesterday. The recap had taken the rest of their walk to school, as they were now walking through the doors to the school.
"Yeah," Bruce shrugged. "You think you know a guy, huh?"
"I get the feeling no one really knows the real Loki," Wanda mused. Loki seemed to be the paragon of enigma, never to be figured out. But she had thought they were at least close. Darcy, at least, appeared to have secured herself a role in Loki's personal life. "So I'm guessing he's back on everyone's shit list?"
She'd barely received a nod in response before a familiar voice was screaming, "Wanda!" Suddenly Darcy was shaking her. "How could you leave?! So much has happened!"
Jane, having followed behind with slightly less enthusiasm, said, "Easy, Darce. She was sick, remember?" Darcy didn't heed this warning, instead switching to a huge bear hug.
Wanda laughed, glad to be back even though she'd only been gone for a day. She smiled in thanks as Pepper peeled Darcy off of her. The pressure on her injuries didn't feel too good.
Pepper grimaced at her. "Did Bruce fill you in on everything?"
Wanda nodded.
Darcy huffed, "So you know who the jerk of the year award goes to. You guessed it - Loki Odinson!"
Someone touched Wanda's arm, gently spinning her to face him. It was Bucky. "Wanda, you're back! You leave for one day and everything goes to shit."
She laughed. "I suppose I'm the glue holding everything together, yeah?"
He nodded seriously. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. We would implode if you ever went on vacation."
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied. A second later it was realized by both of them that his hand was still lingering on her arm, and at that same moment it was hastily pulled away.
That's just how he is, she told herself. He's like that with everyone.
God forbid she start thinking she was special or anything because of one little gesture. Wait- did she want to be special?
Sam, who she hadn't noticed arrived, coughed to gain their attention. "I've got to go to Ms. May's room and beg for her forgiveness after losing the homework last night, and as she's the most terrifying teacher here, I require accompaniment."
"You got it, bud," Bucky said, moving to walk away with him. "But if she gives me the look, you're on your own."
Until today, Wanda had never been to the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. In fact, she hadn't even known of its existence. It was located a few towns over, and the two schools had never played each other over the soccer season. Visiting the campus, it became apparent why - the tiny school barely had enough students to make up a soccer team. The building appeared to be more of a mansion than a school. The facilities were pristine, and while Marvel High was a nice enough school, it had nothing on Jean Grey.
Today was Marvel High's first track meet of the season, an away meet at Jean Grey. Wanda wore her track uniform still with a black long sleeve under it, since there was still a particularly nasty purple handprint on her wrist. She had abandoned the leggings she typically wore under the shorts, however, as there was only one fading bruise left over on her legs. Girls' legs tended to bruise easier than fruit, so no one asked any questions.
She was there early, as her and Pietro had carpooled over with Jane. They were waiting on Pepper, Sam, Natasha, and Darcy. Steve and Bucky had come, however, for moral support. Mainly because Sam said they had to cheer him on.
"You're going down, Marvel High," a girl with dark skin and curly hair taunted, winking.
There was no time for a rebuttal, as a kid who looked to be covered in burn scars noticed them, gasped, and jogged towards them. "Ohmygosh," he gushed. "Earth's mightiest heroes! Can I just say, I'm a big fan of Infinity War. Crossover event of the century! It was amazing."
Wanda furrowed her brow, sharing a funny look with her twin. What was this guy talking about?
He didn't seem finished, though. "The winter soldier!" He grinned at Bucky, reaching for his hand and shaking it enthusiastically.
"What?" Bucky asked, thoroughly confused, as were the rest of them.
The strange kid huffed, rolling his eyes. "That's right. This is an AU fanfic. Who's dumb idea was this? I'd like to talk to the author about forcing me to go through puberty again."
A large man dressed entirely in silver blew a whistle, and the kid waved before hurrying off.
The girl only shrugged. "Sorry about him. I'm Domino; that was Wade. You get used to him."
"He's… certainly interesting," Pietro said.
They didn't have time to dwell on the kid as Ms. Hill arrived, followed quickly by the rest of the track team. "Alright, let's get warmed up," she called out above the chatter. Steve and Bucky went to sit in the bleachers as the others got to working on their warm up routine.
Wanda was relieved that in the last few days, Papa had been more relaxed. He didn't appear to need her as his personal punching bag so much, and no new injuries had been inflicted. She didn't know what she would do if she had to run with a bruised rib or a hurt ankle.
The warm ups finished, and soon the first races of the day were being called out. Wanda wasn't much of a distance runner, so she was mainly signed up for the sprints, which were all happening in the morning portion.
She did fairly well in her races, spurred onwards by her friends screaming her name. The only time she didn't place so well was when she was neck and neck with the girl from earlier, Domino, when suddenly she was tripping over a stray rock and nearly fell face-first into the track. She caught herself and kept running, but it caused her to fall into fourth place.
"That was a stupid pun, and you know it!" Wade suddenly screamed at the sky, as if he were yelling at a higher power.
Jean Grey School was weird. Wade Wilson was weirder. It would certainly be a memorable first track meet.
Bucky Barnes was walking her home, yet again. At first, there kept being some excuse as to why. They'd met up for pizza and studying, but then it was getting dark. They'd been at Jane's, and he had to go somewhere across town anyways. Etcetera, etcetera. Eventually, there stopped being excuses. Last week, after school had ended, he'd just been waiting outside Wanda's classroom, falling into step and an easy conversation with her.
She couldn't say she was complaining. In fact, the few times one of them had had to stay late and he couldn't, she'd missed it.
But that's what was happening today, as Bucky Barnes was unknowingly delivering Wanda Maximoff to her hellhole of a home.
"Okay," Wanda said, formulating her question. "But does Thor give off more Dumb Jock Energy, Theater Kid Energy, or Golden Retriever Energy?"
He laughed. "I don't even know. He kinda reminds me of a Norse viking or something with the hair and the accent."
"He really does," she agreed.
"Okay, my turn. If you were to pick any color other than red to wear for a week, what would it be?"
She huffed. It wasn't that she was obsessed with red - just that the few articles of clothing she owned were either that or black. This was not a Loki and the color green-type situation. "Black."
"Makes sense," he nodded, kicking a rock along the path.
"What did you think I would say? Lime green?" They were nearing her house, and her breath hitched. As usual, she was not at all eager to go inside. Today, however, was worse. Papa's truck was in the driveway, and Pietro's bike was not parked alongside the house - she had expected it to be the other way around.
The color drained from her face, and she started shaking uncontrollably. There was no reason that facing Papa right now would be any different from facing him any other day of the week; she just hadn't been expecting to have to right when she got home.
Bucky was saying something, but she was no longer paying attention. Staring at her house down the block, her feet stopped of their own accord.
"Wanda? Wanda," Bucky was stopped in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face.
She didn't even see him there. It was like she had x-ray vision, locked onto the house looming down the street.
"Wanda, hey," he touched her shoulder.
The contact succeeded in bringing her back a little, as her eyes met his concerned ones and she started breathing again. A bit too quickly, but breathing.
"You okay, doll? I think you're having a panic attack. Just breathe, okay?" He guided her over to the curb of the sidewalk, where they both sat. He was quiet, and at some point his hand gravitated towards her knee to give it a reassuring rub.
Coming back to her senses, she took one last deep breath before turning to look at her friend. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he told her. "But… has that ever happened before?"
"Once," she answered honestly.
"Can you tell me what it was about?"
She shook her head quickly.
"...okay. But I'm here, if you ever need me."
"Thank you," she smiled sincerely. She really, honestly had no idea how she ended up with so many great, caring friends.
"Do you want to go home?"
Gods, no. "I think I'll stay here for a few more minutes."
He nodded, settling into a more comfortable position on the curb next to her. Through the remnants of her erratic heart beating, she smiled inwardly. Her house was only down the block - he could have left her there in good conscience if he wanted to.
A silent beat passed. Wanda broke it by asking, "Are you going to say anything? To the others, I mean."
He looked at her, and her heart fluttered at the eye contact in a way that had nothing to do with her previous anxiety. "No, I won't say anything. But you should know by now that they won't judge you. I- they all love you, Wanda, and just want you to be okay."
Unable to maintain the serious gaze, she looked down at the rough sidewalk. "I know. Thanks, Bucky."
She rose to her feet, and he did the same. They walked the rest of the way to her house, before he bid her goodbye at the bottom of the driveway, as per usual.
She shut the front door, taking in a deep breath and walking further into her house. A loud smash came from the kitchen as she rounded the corner. What ensued was too fast for her to even make sense of it. Papa's large hands were tightly wrapped around her throat, shoving her up against a wall. His alcohol-soaked breath was in her face, screaming a drunken rant about how she was a burden to the family. One of the hands used to cut off her breath released to punch her square in the jaw. She tasted blood as her head smacked against the wall.
One sound, which was very out of place, managed to overpower the ruckus of the beating and yelling; there was a knock at the door.
Papa stopped, out of breath and swaying slightly. He gave her a scrutinizing look before lumbering over to the front door.
"Hey, Mr. Maximoff…"
Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was that really Bucky at her front door?
She moved into view, and their eyes met. Upon seeing her, his face turned into a worried frown, before being schooled into nonchalance. She only recognized it because she knew him so well. But what was the look for? As far as she could tell, her physical appearance shouldn't yet reflect the hit. Could he have heard the noise?
"Wanda, can you come outside for a minute?" He asked.
She shrugged, looking at Papa. He only grunted.
"Please?" he pressed, looking a bit desperate. "It'll only take a minute."
Papa stepped back towards the living room in a silent allowance. Wanda darted through the door and shut it behind her.
She was ready to stop and ask him what he was doing coming back to her house, but didn't get the opportunity as he grabbed her arm and lightly but quickly pulled her a little ways down the street.
He spun to face her again, stopping. His hand reached towards her face, but at her flinch he retracted. "Why is there blood on your lip?"
She dodged the question with, "Why did you come back?"
He handed her a rectangular object: her phone. "I found it on the curb where we were sitting. It must've fallen out of your pocket. Why is there blood on your lip?"
Her heart started beating faster, and she opened her mouth in an attempt to answer but was unable to form words.
"Does it have anything to do with the screaming I heard on my way back to your place?"
So, he'd heard it. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She was so tired. Tired of being bullied and abused in her own home. Tired of having to maintain the lie that she belonged to a happy family when it was crumbling before her eyes. So she ended it. "Papa… he hits me."
Rage burned behind Bucky's eyes in a way she'd never seen before. He looked ready to run back to her house and kill her father, but he visibly fought to swallow it down. "Damnit, Wanda. How long?"
"Most of the school year," she whispered.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His next words surprised her. "I'm so sorry, doll."
She was about to question him on why an apology from him was at all warranted, when a further complication arrived to the scenario.
Pietro pulled his bike up next to where they stood on the sidewalk. Taking in the tears beginning to streak down her face and Bucky's presence, he grew wary. "What's going on here? Wanda?"
She just started sobbing, and he was quickly stepping off his bike to wrap her in a hug. Over her shoulder, he glared at Bucky, the alleged perpetrator to his twin's crying.
Wanda was unable to speak, so Bucky stated simply, "Your father abuses your sister, and he has been for most of the year."
Pietro went rigid, pulling back slightly from his sister to look her in the face. "Is it true?"
The blood on her lip mixed with the fact that she didn't deny it seemed to be all of the confirmation he needed. "I'll kill him."
He started back towards the house. "Pietro, no!" Wanda shouted.
Bucky grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him. "I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't want either of you going back in there."
Pietro glared in the direction of their house, but relented.
Wanda trembled. "I need to go back in."
"Why?" They both turned to her at once.
"Kovi - my cat. He's in my room."
Pietro decided, "I will go get the cat. Papa's never touched me, so there's nothing to worry about. I will be in and out, okay?"
Wanda nodded, watching as her brother walked towards their house. "Nothing's going to be the same, is it?"
Bucky gave her a sad smile. "No. I can't let you ever go back to that house with him again."
She nodded, accepting. She was tired. She didn't want to keep fighting what now felt like the inevitable. So instead, she wrapped her arms around her friend's middle and pressed her face into his chest.
"I'm sorry, doll," he repeated as his arms wound around her firmly.
Pietro's POV
Walking back into his home after learning of the horrors that had gone on in there for so long without his knowing felt surreal. How many times had his sister walked through this very front door, fearful of their own father's wrath?
There the monster was, sitting at the dining room table like he hadn't just given his daughter a bloody mouth. Pietro's blood began to boil just seeing him.
"Pietro," Papa grunted, looking up at him. "You see your sister outside?"
"No," he lied, hurrying down the hall to Wanda's room. He hadn't been blind. Papa had been wasted a good majority of the time ever since Mama's death. He'd been a terrible parent, for sure. He never showed any support, and hardly even kept the fridge stocked most days. Pietro had honestly given up on him a while ago, deciding that he and his twin would be on their own as soon as they turned eighteen, and he wouldn't be sticking around to save a man who didn't want to be saved.
He'd known that Papa's life had gone down in the dumps, but it was hard to imagine that the kind family man he'd been a few years prior could turn violent towards one of his children.
Hard to imagine, but not impossible. It almost scared Pietro how quickly he was able to view the father he'd grown up with as a monster after learning of the abuse. It did make sense, though. Wanda was his twin, and no one was allowed to hurt her.
Stepping into Wanda's room, the anger towards Papa started to turn into guilt.
"Here, kitty," he knelt on the ground, making kissy sounds to draw out the hidden pet.
How could he not have noticed? For months, his sister was suffering. This had been happening in his own home, right under his nose. Surely, there were signs. Had he really been so caught up in his own life that he could ignore something like that? Evidently, yes.
Just as he thought that maybe the cat had run away or something, an orange tabby slowly slunk out from underneath the nightstand, coming over to investigate this stranger.
"Kovi, huh?" he asked the cat, holding out his hand to be sniffed. "I guess you can be added to the list of things I didn't know happened in this house."
The orange tabby seemingly decided that Pietro was no threat, and bumped his head against the offered hand in beg of petting. He obliged before picking up the purring creature and carrying him back through the house.
Papa called out on his way to the door, "Where did you get that thing?"
"Found him," Pietro lied. "He must've snuck in. I'm taking him out."
"Good," Papa grunted. "Don' wan' any more pests in this house."
He didn't want to consider the deeper meaning behind those words, but his brain decided to do it anyways. Was he referring to the various spiders and other crawlies that hid in every corner, or was he referring to someone else? It made him sick to his stomach.
He closed the door behind him, carrying Kovi to his owner.
Wanda gratefully took her cat from her brother's arms, holding him close. Kovi, not seeming to notice anything wrong, immediately intensified his purring and closed his eyes to enjoy the sunshine.
"What now?" Pietro asked.
"I think we need to call the authorities to come deal with this," Bucky said, sounding regretful.
"9-1-1?" Wanda asked, nervous. She didn't want it to be such a huge ordeal.
"I'm not sure that this really counts as an emergency," Pietro said.
Bucky pulled out his phone, typing something in. A few seconds later, he turned the device towards them. "There's a domestic abuse hotline we can call. I'm sure they'll have answers."
Pietro nodded. He reached for the phone, and Bucky handed it over. He tapped on the number and called, putting it on speaker so they could hear.
Wanda and Bucky remained silent, listening to the conversation.
Wanda couldn't help but be impressed by the maturity with which her brother was handling the situation. This was the same Pietro who enjoyed pulling petty pranks on her and leaving a note in the empty box of cereal he'd polished off. She was immensely thankful that he was in her life, because she'd be losing it without him by her side.
As Pietro hung up the phone, she glanced at Bucky, standing next to her with his hands in his pockets. He caught her look and offered a reassuring smile. He didn't have to be here still, dealing with her family problems. But she knew at this point what he'd say if she were to bring that fact up. They were at the very least close friends, and that's what close friends did for each other.
She sat down on the curb, where this seemingly eternal afternoon had begun, and used the arm not cradling Kovi to pat the ground next to her. Both boys took seats on either side of her.
There was a little bit of idle conversation, which was surprisingly light given the circumstances. It mainly was between Bucky and Pietro, as Wanda was exhausted. Time passed by like it does at an airport early in the morning, where it feels like you have all the time in the world and no time at all. Eventually, several cop cars pulled up, followed by a nice-looking car that was not marked as a police vehicle.
The group stood, and the lady inhabiting the nice car followed by one of the cops walked over to them.
"Hi, there," the lady offered them a kind smile. "My name is Janet, and I am a social worker. Which one of you is Pietro Maximoff?"
Pietro raised his hand.
"You called in to report the abuse happening in your home, yes?" Janet questioned, still smiling.
"Yes," Pietro nodded.
"And you are the sister?" she turned to Wanda.
"Yes," she replied softly. She felt like a small child, clutching her kitty to her chest as she shyly answered adults' questions. It was an unwelcome, patronizing feeling.
"And who is this little cutie?" Janet looked at Kovi.
"My cat, Kovi," Wanda answered simply.
Eyes turned to Bucky, who cleared his throat. "James Barnes. I'm just a friend."
Just a friend, Wanda scoffed. She would be falling to pieces without him here. Her eyes flickered towards their house, where several officers were walking up to her front door, undoubtedly to speak with Papa, and likely arrest him. His current intoxicated state would do him no favors.
The cop spoke, "You appear to have some blood on your face, Ms. Maximoff. I take it you were assaulted recently?"
"Yes," Wanda said.
"Why don't you follow me to my car over there, and I'll take you to get checked out. Janet can take Pietro and your pet to her office place to sort things out for the time being, and escort your friend here home?" The officer suggested, though it didn't entirely sound like a suggestion.
Wanda's eyes turned to Pietro, and she gave him a quick hug before passing him Kovi. She turned to Bucky next, hugging him tightly and whispering, "Thank you."
He reciprocated, telling her, "Call me later, alright? Even if you don't get done dealing with this shit until three in the morning, I'm gonna be up all night worrying about you anyways."
She promised that she would, before following behind the officer to the police vehicle. She sat in the back seat, resting her head against the window and staring emotionlessly at her house.
Her blank stare was interrupted by Janet driving by with Pietro and Bucky in the back. Pietro held Kovi up to the window and made his little paw wave, which put a slight smile on her face. Bucky gave her a smile and a goodbye wave from behind him.
The officer started up the car and pulled away. One last glance at her house of horrors showed Papa being led out in handcuffs.
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