Wanda tried to throw a burst of energy at the Winter Soldier as she ran across the gym, but her powers were terrifyingly absent. She couldn't do anything to stop his metal hand crushing Natasha's throat. Steve lay on the floor nearby, trying to rise from the pool of blood flowing from the multiple gunshot wounds to his chest and stomach. Wanda was still several meters away when the Winter Soldier tossed Natasha's limp body away like so much garbage. His eyes flashed with pleasure and rage as he turned to where Wanda now stood rooted to the floor. His lips twisted into a terrifying grin. "You're next."

"No!" Wanda threw her arms up and got tangled in the sheets. She was totally disoriented, wanting to lash out at something, anything to make herself feel safe again. She managed to free her hands and raise them to confront the threat.

"Hey, hey. Calm down."

She looked to her side in shock. "You…you were dead. He killed you and I couldn't stop him."

"It was just a nightmare," Natasha replied, propping herself up on her elbows. "You experienced one of the Winter Soldier's memories, remember? You've been having a rough night, but you were just dreaming."

The previous hours came back in a rush, frightening her more than the nightmare she was already forgetting. She ducked back under the covers, pulling near Natasha. "He showed me. There was a car crash and he killed the man you were protecting and he almost killed you and…"

Natasha interrupted gently, "That was a long time ago."

"Not so long." She snuggled closer as Natasha wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began rubbing her back, almost like her mother used to do so long ago. "He…when he was looking at you in the road…he…he wanted to…"

"Ssh. He didn't." How could Natasha even know what Wanda had been about to say? Somehow she did; maybe that was why she hadn't been so alarmed about Bucky or the Winter Soldier's attraction to her. Wanda both envied and adored that confidence. "Everything's fine."

Wanda sniffled slightly, holding on tighter. This was ridiculous. It wasn't even her experience, but she was the one crying. Perhaps it was because she was feeling the potential grief in the present. If Natasha had died on the road outside Odessa, Wanda wouldn't be imagining the loss of a woman she was starting to view as the older sister she'd always wished she'd had. Natasha would have taken care of her and Pietro after their parents' deaths, kept them safe in war-torn Sokovia, stopped them from being recruited by Hydra. Things could have been so different. Not that she would sacrifice her current family for one that never could have been – it wouldn't bring her brother or her parents back, anyway. She took a shaky breath, still huddled against Natasha, but inhaling a very masculine scent. She suddenly remembered her headlong flight to Steve and Natasha's room after seeing the Winter Soldier's memory. Natasha was surrounded by a soft glow, so Steve couldn't be far, probably right outside the door, standing guard. That would be so like him. Out of politeness more than anything else, Wanda asked, "Where is Steve?"

A bright hand suddenly appeared over the edge of the bed and waved. "Right here."

Wanda tried to laugh, but it came out as a choked, uncomfortable sound. "You made him sleep on the floor?"

"Not at all. You fell asleep and he decided that you could have his space for the night, but he would stay close so you would feel safe. He's in full-on nanny hero mode."

A petulant reply came from the floor, "Am not."

"You changed into your Army t-shirt, then had a stern conversation with Bucky and stole a sleeping bag from the supply room."

"Borrowed, and only because the quartermaster wasn't there to sign it out officially."

Natasha reached her hand down to pat his chest. "Wanda and I appreciate your chivalry."

"I…I will go back to my room," Wanda said, though she made no move to pull away from Natasha. "Steve should not have to suffer because I am…"

"Forget it, kiddo. He'll just camp in the hallway if I throw him out."

"Thank you," Wanda whispered.

"No problem," Steve answered, sleeping bag rustling has he shifted in it.

"Try to go back to sleep."

Although the suggestion was made kindly, Wanda had no problem interpreting the subtext that Natasha had reached her limit for comforting snuggling. She scooted back toward Steve's side of the bed, where the scent of super-soldier was slightly stronger. It was comforting, too, in its way. The light Steve and Natasha emitted disappeared when Wanda closed her eyes, which was less comforting. As she felt herself drifting off, she opened her eyes for a last look before falling asleep.

Steve chose that moment to whisper loudly, "Nat?"

"Mmm?"

"Is Wanda asleep?"

"Why?"

Wanda had the feeling that Natasha knew she wasn't, but tried to normalize her breathing.

"I just…when I talked to Bucky, he told me everything about when he shot you. The first time, I mean."

"I told you that after Fury faked his death, not that we knew he was faking at the time."

Steve ignored the acid in the second part of the statement, saying, "You left out a few details."

"They weren't relevant. Besides, I'm pretty sure I told you we crashed off a cliff. Not even you would get through that without a few bumps and bruises."

"He said he wanted to…"

"Steve, Bucky didn't do or want to do anything. It was the Winter Soldier. When the beast rears its ugly head, I think we've demonstrated we can deal with it. Go to sleep."

There was a long pause in which Wanda nearly dozed off, but Steve whispered, "If you're giving Bucky so much slack for my sake, you don't have to."

"I'm not."

"Oh." The sleeping bag rustled for a few moments. "Y'know, after dropping Bucky from the train in 1945, my biggest regret is you."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I mean…when I first recognized Bucky in Washington, when I found out he was the Winter Soldier…I didn't notice you'd been shot. You took a bullet and you still tried to make me feel better about…about failing him. You could have been dying, but you…"

"I didn't die and nothing was your fault."

"If I had…"

"If it had been physically possible to rescue Bucky in 1945, you would have done it. What happened to him or me isn't your fault. We'll talk about this later. Or some other time, anyway. Now, seriously, go to sleep."

The pause this time was shorter. "I love you."

Natasha sighed loudly. Then there was a shift in the mattress, followed by a simultaneous thud and 'oof' sound, and a long, soft kiss, which Wanda tried her hardest not to feel without success. At least it was an enjoyable failure, communicating deep love with lips and tongue and tender embrace. Natasha pulled back first. "Love you, too."

When Wanda woke the next morning, she glanced over the far side of the bed before getting up. As she'd thought, Natasha was still on the floor, curled around Steve as they slept.