A/N: I was going to wait until tomorrow or a few days to post this since it's the last chapter, but I couldn't do it for some reason. I'm also (quite strangely) very nervous to post this last chapter for some reason. I don't know if its because this is the last chapter and I really want you guys to like it, or if I'm just surprised that I've actually finally completed something for once, haha. Anyway, ignore my rambling, I really hope you guys enjoy and be sure to read the notes at the end for a little more in-depth of what's to come next, etc.
When they arrived at the farm the next day, Wanda was nervous. She had fully expected Lila and Cooper to bombard her with questions, things she really didn't want to talk about. They would ask her to play, go tobogganing, when she really didn't want to. Sure, she wanted to see them, but that's it. She didn't feel like playing or talking. Just seeing.
But it was different. Not what Wanda had expected at all.
When Wanda had exited the Quinjet, gripping the bottom of her mother's jacket, whose hands were too full of bags to actually hold her hand, Lila and Cooper stood off to the side, waving. Lila didn't run to hug her auntie Nat. Cooper didn't utter a peep. It felt different, and an overcoming wave of burden engulfed her like a ship at sea. She willed away tears, feeling guilty that she was secretly happy at the lack of joy in the environment. She remembered at the beginning, last June, it had been too much. The joy, the enthusiasm. Then, she couldn't get enough of it. Now it was back to being too much again. Laura must've given the two children a serious talk.
Wanda's been through a lot. She's scared, now. Lila, don't be too hyper. Don't ask her questions. Cooper, maybe hold off on asking her to go tobogganing or play video games. Just for a little while, until she's more comfortable, Wanda imagined her say.
Wanda felt guilty, and because of this, she had vowed to spend a lot more time by herself, instead of with Lila or Cooper, or even her parents. She played with her toys on the floor of the spare bedroom under the window, hidden by the bed, hidden from the world. Sometimes, if she was feeling brave enough to be seen, she'd even sit on the windowsill, drawing pictures in the fog from the cool winter air outside; dogs, horses, stick figures of her family. She even had a new person to add. Auntie Lena.
Sometimes, she'd draw on paper, too, courtesy of Aunt Laura, and Nat noticed she kept those drawings shoved them under the bed instead of giving them to her or Laura to put on the fridge like she used to.
She felt confused. She wanted her parents with her twenty-four seven. She felt nauseous when she wasn't with them. A sickening feeling that she'd be taken away from them again, never to be seen again. But in a way, she wanted more than anything to not feel that way anymore. Especially when they were constantly gentle with her. Not that they weren't before, of course they were. But it felt like more, now. Like they were always stepping on glass, afraid to say something that would trigger a flashback or a panic attack. Afraid she was on the verge of breaking.
One day, when her dad made her breakfast, she finally felt like it was enough.
Steve had placed a single waffle in front of her, spread with Nutella and little strawberries cut up, placed carefully around the edge and in the middle to look like the shape of a lion. Laura had taught him that trick, from when Lila decided a few years ago that she had wanted to all of a sudden become a picky eater: make the meals into shapes of animals, and somehow, some type of child psychology, it made it desirable to eat.
Wanda gave a small smile, looking up at her dad with a mix of sadness and amusement, but she didn't move to eat it. They tried so hard all the time. It formed a pit of overwhelming guilt in her stomach.
"What's wrong, sweet pea? Why won't you eat?" He asked, concerned.
Wanda shrugged, looking down to the plate. She moved a strawberry around with her fork, and it slid easily across the melted Nutella.
"I'm not hungry."
Steve sighed again. It was her go-to excuse for three weeks now. They only got enough food into her to keep her from being exhausted and weak, but it was beginning to start to show in the child.
"Please, Wanda? Just eat what you can?"
She took a strawberry, staring at it between her eyes like it was some sort of enemy. Steve realized she wasn't going to eat it. He didn't even know why he tried. She never ate in the mornings anymore.
"Alright, fine. Can I at least get you something to drink? Milk? Apple juice?"
She nodded slightly, resting her chin on the edge of the table.
"Okay."
She took a small sip of the glass of milk, placing it back down on the table with two shaky hands, before hopping off the stool to walk to the window. It was early February. Still tons of snow in Iowa. The whole yard was covered in a soft layer of white for as long as she could see. But it was nice snow. Not like the snow in Novi Grad. It was peaceful. There was no bitter sting of the wind, ripping through the trees. The snowflakes fell peacefully to the ground. She wondered what it would feel like to just go and sit in the middle of the yard. By herself.
"I want to go outside."
She uttered those five words, and Steve almost dropped his mug of coffee.
He tried not to sound surprised, or proud. Just like it was a normal thing for an eight-year-old to ask. Because it was, but he couldn't help but smile.
"Okay. We threw your old coat out, though, sweet pea. I'm sure you can borrow one of Lila's."
Her eyes turned from youthful to downright depressed. A feeling of loss.
"You threw out the angel?" She asked, biting her bottom lip.
It took a minute for Steve to figure out what the hell she was talking about.
Angel?
Oh, the little stick angel Nat had made her at Christmas. Nat had found it in her pocket of the old, dirty coat she wore for two weeks straight in Novi Grad and kept it. The coat was thrown out, but the angel stayed.
"No, Mama kept the angel, sweetheart."
She was just about to ask where it was when Nat came down the stairs. It was in her pocket, and she placed it into Wanda's hands.
Steve and Nat watched the small girl stand outside, unsure of what to do. Wanda looked up at the falling snowflakes for a moment, then sat down in the snow, staring forward into the tree line.
Eventually, after a few moments, she ran around, forming piles of snow, jumping into them, kicking them, playing like a regular kid.
When Yelena came down that morning for breakfast, curious to what her they were looking at, she stood at the window and watched for a moment, too. It was something they had been waiting to see for quite some time now; Wanda by herself, gaining her independence again, even if just for a little bit. Even if she was only separated by a thin piece of glass.
From that moment on, Wanda spent a lot of time outside. She had gotten a new coat, moved the small angel to the pocket of the new one, and spent a lot of time in the tire swing in the yard, just like her Mama did when she first came.
Sometimes, her mum or dad would join her, and they'd swing in silence, just happy to be in each other's presence.
The Farm did Wanda a lot of good, and eventually, Lila or Cooper started joining her too, and she'd make small conversations with them. They'd often invite her to play, too, but Wanda was content to just sit and watch. As soon as Yelena was able to, she often spent a lot outside with Wanda, as well. It was something Nat and Steve were thankful for. Yelena did talk with Nat a lot about what went on in Novi Grad, but it was something she would never understand fully. She hadn't been there, but Yelena was, and that proved to form a bond between the young girl and her over the past few weeks.
When the air was extra crisp and it was definitely below zero, Wanda had gone outside, despite her family's encouragement to stay inside that day. Nat watched her from the window, a cup of coffee in hand as she observed from the inside of the house. Nevermore than this moment was Nat reminded of her younger self, looking out the window at her daughter in the tire swing. She was a determined kid. Her confidence, personality, and independence were slowly starting to come back. But it would take a while. Nat and Steve both knew that.
It took a while for Nat's to come back too when she first came to the farm, if she even had any of those things in the first place. Just like Wanda, she used to spend hours out there. By herself, thinking about nothing and everything. The peacefulness of being in the middle of nowhere; no danger, no Madame B, and no Russia, proved that the Barton Farm was a safe place. It was comforting and welcoming, and it helped. It helped with Nat fifteen years ago when she was just a teenager, it helped with Wanda last June, and it's proving to help Wanda again.
She would heal. Nat knew that. Wanda had her and Steve, and now Yelena, just like Nat had Clint and Laura all those years ago.
She watched as Wanda's head poked out of the inside of the tire, noticing her through the front window. She waved, a small smile turning the corner of her lips upwards. Nat took the opportunity to ditch her cup of coffee, grab her coat, and join Wanda outside.
She took a seat below the tree, the tire hitting her back slightly as the wind swayed it back and forth.
Nat thought about Clint. How he used to come and sit out here with her in silence, being comforted by his presence in times of grief or fear. She used to always be scared. Just like Wanda, now. Scared of people, sleeping, eating. Everything would bring back flashbacks. It took so much effort just to be able to do those things again, and it made her nauseous to think her child was now going through those exact same things.
She was gonna be okay, though. They were all gonna be okay. They had each other. A family.
Pulling her out of her thoughts, Nat felt a small hand grip her shoulder. She looked back, greeted by a smile from Wanda, who reached out as she leaned out of the tire swing to grab her hand.
Nat smiled back, reaching up with her other hand to silently tuck a stray hair behind her ear and place a kiss on her cheek.
She didn't need to say anything.
Wanda didn't need to say anything.
Words were overrated when you could say so much more with your actions, anyway.
A/N: The end!
Guys, seriously. Thank you so much for reading this story. It means so much to me. I started this account honestly as a way to improve my writing skills, and honestly, looking back at the first few chapters, I'm proud to say that I can surprisingly see a difference! But I wouldn't have been able to do it without my good friend, ThatStrawberryGirl. Elle, thank you so much for all your help. Seriously, your ideas made this story so much better than what I would've conjured up by myself.
Now for the big reveal. What am I planning next? I got a lot more comments on Ao3, and I've decided to mush all the suggestions together to create…a sequel of one-shots? Don't really know what to call it, lol. Basically, it will be a sequel in the way that it probably won't make sense unless you've read Newfound Family, but the chapters will most likely be one-shots or short stories, about Wanda's journey of healing, coping, and just fun family adventures in general! So, keep a lookout for that! No pressure if you're not interested, but if you follow me as an author, you'll probably get an email notification when I post it- it should probably be within the next few days, maybe a week.
Thanks again guys and see you soon!
-Katherine