A/N: Thanks to everyone who's followed/favorited and/or is reading but not reviewing:)

In which we get more Friendship Fluff, my favorite, lol

I will have Wanda watch/hear Tony's message eventually, but she's not ready to do that right now, so she won't for awhile. To her she's just thinking "well if the others trust it I kind of have to go along with whatever they plan anyway, so I'm not subjecting myself to seeing that message right now since I have no choice in the decision regardless." It's not like she can just peace out and run off on her own at the moment. Hopefully that makes sense? Anyways.

On to the story!

Wanda slept peacefully all the way until the quinjet landed. The small jolt of the landing made her cringe in pain and reluctantly open her eyes. Safe, safe, not on the Raft. Don't...panic again. It's fine.

...I didn't have any dreams at all. I slept and I did not wake up being shocked again. Wanda briefly worried again that torture device was back on her neck, because she could still feel something there, and her burns throbbed and itched something awful. That is not right, either. I can move and there's nothing sharp constantly stabbing me any more. Stop it. Nat said she and Clint had to bandage it. I just feel that, that is all. She studied her good arm closely; as promised, Nat must have removed that IV at some point while she slept, because there was only a small bandage at the crease of her elbow now where the IV had been before. This was fine. Wanda did not like knowing people touched her while she was unaware of it, but this was okay, because she knew Natasha and the others weren't going to hurt her.

"Hey, we're at the Norway safe house," Nat was saying calmly. "We'll pick up more supplies and get cleaned up. Then you, Clint, and I will head to New York. Sam and Scott will stay here. Steve is merely dropping the three of us off there and immediately leaving. Understand?"

Wanda blinked, trying to clear her head. I don't want to go there. I knew I would have to, but...I don't want to. She nodded slightly to show she understood and closed her eyes again. Maybe Natasha would just let her lie there until these supplies were gathered, because she was too tired to move.

"No, you're coming inside too. You need clean clothes, same as the rest of us. Tell me when it's all right to move you."

Wanda thought it would be nice to have clean things to wear and maybe wash her hair, but then that meant someone would have to help her change into the new clothes, and that was humiliating, so no thank you, absolutely not. She did open her eyes again and proceeded to give Natasha a look that clearly said she did not want to move.

"Don't give me that look. Either tell me when or I'm hauling you inside whether you like it or not."

T-I-R-E-D.

"I know. You can sleep as much as you want afterwards. I don't want you to get sick on top of being injured. You're very lucky you're not sick. You cannot stay dirty like that. I don't want any of those injuries to get infected." Natasha glanced around to make sure all the boys had left the quinjet and then added in a softer voice, thinking she probably knew the real reason the younger girl was behaving a bit strangely, "There are plenty of extra towels inside. Nobody has to see anything, including me, I promise."

Wanda's cheeks turned a little red, clearly embarrassed, but she finally acquiesced her agreement. "Okay." D-O-N-T L-I-K-E B-U-T O-K.

Nat nodded and scooped her up. Wanda made a quiet pained squeak but didn't protest otherwise. Norway was pleasantly chilly, Wanda thought, the air smelled crispy and nice and it was not pouring rain, just breezy. The breeze made her shiver, but not like the awful cold, hard floor in her cell, or those hours and hours spent strapped to that freezing metal table in the disorienting dark silence. Inside the safe house, the sweet scent of cinnamon and gingerbread greeted her. One of the others must have located and lit a scented candle. And it was warm. Warm and cozy, even if it was just a temporary safe house.

"There's two bathrooms. Wanda and I will take the larger one. Rest of you can fight over the other one," Nat announced.

"Predictable," Clint said, shaking his head. "We already started running a warm bath in there. I think Steve even laid some clothes out for you two in that bedroom across the hall. Go ahead. Scott's hopped in the tiny bathroom already, so I guess he's getting clean first."

Natasha carried Wanda to the larger bathroom and then debated what to do next since clearly Wanda could not stand on her own right now. Finally, she simply set Wanda down on the edge of the tub, keeping an arm around her thin shoulders for support, and snagged a towel off a shelf with the other. "Here. Your job is to hold this against yourself while I get these filthy things off. Can you do that?"

"Yes." Wanda did not sound happy, and she was visibly tense, but she did as she was told, keeping her good arm held tight across her chest clutching the towel, even as she felt her head droop tiredly again. Calm down. Nobody is going to hurt me here, and Nat already saw me unconscious. She's not going to fuss or make weird comments. There were definitely horrible bruises all over her back, and holding the dumb towel over her front wasn't going to hide those.

The blue prison shirt and pants went on the floor, and Wanda gave them a hateful glare. "Can I...burn those?" Wanda's whisper sounded pissed enough to kill. If fabric could feel, it should have been terrified.

"If you want to. Or you could shred them with your magic," Natasha told her, as if she had a conversation like this every day. "Okay, in we go. Hair first?"

Wanda blinked again and nodded a tiny bit, trying not to react to the warm water touching her sensitive skin and making the wound on her leg and all the rest of the many cuts and scrapes sting. It was okay to express that she was hurting here, she reminded herself. No one was going to use pain against her or poke at something that already hurt to make it hurt more. Nat was asking if she was still okay. "I...I won't panic," she said after a minute of consideration. No, I'm not okay, but I'm safe. I don't need to scare myself.

"All right. You need to tell me if anything starts to hurt more than it does right now, immediately. Can I trust you to do that much?"

Wanda glanced at Natasha shakily. Black Widow sounded angry, but she was just reaching for the shampoo, one arm still supporting Wanda's trembling shoulders gently. She is not mad at me. I know that. Stop jumping at every little thing. Wanda nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut.

It did not start to hurt more; if anything the warm water helped make her sore joints feel a little less achy. Wanda thought the shampoo smelled nice. "Strawberries," she whispered suddenly. It smells like strawberries.

"Yeah, that's all I could get when I was stocking this place. Kids shampoo," Nat said teasingly, which made Wanda open her eyes and give her a disapproving look. "What?"

"Y...call me...kid." Wanda was not really particularly annoyed anyway, and the running joke amused her at this point. Natasha's protective big sister behavior was nice, too.

"I don't know what you mean. I'm going to use the same shampoo when you're done, and the boys will have to smell like fake strawberries too. It was kids shampoo. Now it's Avengers shampoo."

Wanda glanced at Natasha again, her green eyes a little brighter now; this entertained her. She did not say anything, but a little of the tenseness dissipated from her shoulders.

They didn't say anything for awhile, and finally Nat said carefully, knowing Wanda would not be happy, "Now I need you to wash the rest yourself. Check for any more injuries we might need to address, and please be honest. Eyes are closed and I won't open them until you say so. I promise."

"...'Kay. Don't...look."

"I won't." Natasha thought Wanda was altogether too fussy about bodies, but if the girl wanted her privacy, then that was fine and she'd respect that. There had probably been very, very little privacy whilst stuck on the Raft.

"Done," Wanda whispered a few minutes later, her shaky hand again clutching the towel over her chest. I shouldn't be so tired. I barely did anything.

"Okay. Damage report?"

Wanda was not sure how to explain that there were multiple large bruises all over her, a few of which she thought were simply from the broken ribs, but that she honestly didn't think any of it was worth worrying about. She was just stiff and sore all over. There were some long partially healed cuts on her side just below her ribs that she had no clear memory of receiving (probably way back from the failed escape incident, she suspected), but they didn't look too serious, either. "Not...bad."

"Wanda, what does that mean? Do I need to be concerned?" Natasha asked quietly.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut again, frustrated that she couldn't exactly sign an answer while holding onto the towel since she only had one usable hand at the moment, and words were failing her and it still hurt to talk. I don't know how to explain. "Not...dangerous," she murmured.

"That's not reassuring. We'll get you dried off and into some clean clothes. Then you can sign it instead," Natasha decided, in a tone that left no room for discussion.

Okay. I can do that. Wanda didn't react much while the tub drained, she traded the wet towel for a fluffy dry one wrapped around herself like a dress, and Nat took her to the carpeted bedroom across the narrow hall. She felt herself gently laid down on the bed against the pillows and stayed quiet, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread on the towel nervously.

"Now tell me what you were trying to say in the bathroom, please." Wanda hesitantly signed that she thought it was mostly just bruises that couldn't be helped, probably from the broken ribs. Natasha appeared mollified by this explanation. "Is there any more damage I can't see?"

"Cuts...here." Wanda traced a line on her side just below her ribs, which made her flinch at her own touch. "Multiple."

"Thank you for being honest. Will you let me look at them after we get some clothes for you?" Natasha could tell Wanda hadn't wanted to share that information, but at least she had done so without fuss and seemed agreeable to letting someone help her.

Okay. I can do that. Wanda whispered another yes, and made no further comment.

Soon Wanda found herself in a loose burgundy t-shirt and some soft black sweatpants. She lay very still while Natasha looked at the cuts, and didn't say anything at all. I'm okay. I'm safe now, it just still hurts, she reminded herself.

Nat frowned, thinking that it looked like someone-or someones-must have slashed Wanda with a knife several times. She figured they were probably back from the failed escape attempt, but decided not to ask since Wanda probably would not want to answer. "These look like they've been there awhile. I don't think any of this needs stitches at this point, so long as you don't tear them open straining yourself. They'll probably scar, but they should heal just fine otherwise. We'll just put some antibiotic ointment on them and cover it. Sound good?" Natasha kept her voice quiet, trying to keep her younger teammate calm. Wanda was staring at her with wide eyes, obviously uncomfortable, but she did not move. "Okay, I'll take that as a yes, but if you need me to stop for a minute, tell me."

O-K. Wanda flinched at being touched, but she did not react further. She felt a fuzzy blanket put in her hand in a few minutes, Nat saying if she was still cold then she should roll herself up in it like a burrito. Wanda blinked again, wondering if this was supposed to make her laugh. She did not feel like laughing now, just...so, so unsure of herself. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. S-O-R-R-Y, she signed suddenly. There were tears burning her eyes and then making the scrapes and cuts on her face sting. Stop it. Just stop. What is setting me off now? Wanda swiped at her eyes roughly, not understanding what had made her break down so abruptly. She was fine, that mortifying bath that had honestly not been nearly as bad as she'd expected was done, the bed was soft and the clothes were soft and smelled nice, she was clean and, okay, not healthy, but still. Nat tending to and re-bandaging everything that needed it hurt quite a bit, but ordinarily that sort of thing did not make her cry. Natasha was even telling her exactly what she was doing and when, which also helped. Nobody was fussing or yelling or being horrible to her, why was she crying? "I...I don't...know why..."

"It's okay to cry. There doesn't have to be a specific reason. I told you that you don't have to keep pretending you're fine. Crying is good." Natasha pulled Wanda's hand away from her face and added, "You do know I'm the last person that's going to judge you for bawling because something awful happened to you, right?"

"It...weeks. Not...years," Wanda mumbled. "Red Room...years." I know. I saw it. I made Nat see those horrid memories. I...I tortured her. That was cruel. I did something stupid Ross would do. Wanda tugged her hand away and signed furiously as fast her fingers could form the letters, 'I am like Ross. I hurt you with memories. I hate him. I hate me.'

"Except you're crying because you hurt someone and Ross enjoys doing it, so that is not the same at all. Using people's worst nightmares, worst fears, whatever, was a weapon you were taught to use on opponents back then, yes?"

What? Wanda wasn't sure what Natasha meant by saying that, but she nodded yes. That was true.

"Then that is no different from my being an assassin for the Red Room. Remember the red in my ledger? Maybe you have some too. Maybe we all do. But you are not like Ross. So don't-"

"We volunteered. You...didn't."

Nat knew quite well what Wanda meant; that she had volunteered for Hydra and that she, Natasha, hadn't even had that choice with the Red Room. "You and Pietro had no clue what you were really volunteering for at all. You were a couple of desperate, hopeful kids. Your crime was naïveté. You even told us before that you two would never have volunteered if you'd known what it really was."

S-T-I-L-L N-O-T O-K, Wanda signed shakily.

"Of course not. But I'm certainly not going to hold a grudge against you for it. Moreover, your comment that you were only in the Raft for three weeks and so it's unfair to compare that with years in the Red Room is nonsense." Natasha began gently brushing Wanda's tangled but clean hair.

"...Why?"

"Because you are also stacking a crap life since you were a small child on top of being tortured for 'only' weeks in a government-sanctioned prison that you only escaped less than 24 hours ago. Wanda, you are being ridiculous. Weeks of torture would mess up anyone, with or without that. Do you think I don't know that for myself? You can cry and be pissed, upset, scared, frustrated, whatever you want. Nobody in this house is going to judge you. I promise." Nat thought for a moment and went on, "You can stick your brave face on in public if you need to, but not here."

"The oth...others are...fine," Wanda mumbled, barely audible. The realization that her friend really did understand, understood exactly what had happened to her both with Hydra and the Raft, because Natasha had experienced similar horrible things herself, made it easier to admit things to her now.

"They are physically fine mostly, if a bit thinner and tired, yes."

Wanda gave her a confused look and then dipped her head, feeling stupid. That's why Clint was acting weird on the way here. Because he is not fine.

"So, give yourself a break. If the guys are not fine and they're not seriously injured like you, why should you expect yourself to be fine?" Natasha continued brushing Wanda's long hair in silence for quite awhile; the younger girl still seemed upset and a bit sniffly, but she was clearly more relaxed now. "Would you like me to braid your hair?"

Y-E-S P-L-E-A-S-E.

"Then we'll braid it." Natasha braided Wanda's damp hair quickly and put it over her shoulder. "There you go. Would you like anything else?"

W-H-Y A-R-E Y-O-U O-K A-F-T-E-R A-N-D I-M N-O-T? Wanda's shaky hand touched her hair once she was finished signing. It seemed strange now, realizing she hadn't been able to touch her own hair for three weeks, and nobody else touched it either except for yanking or grabbing at it briefly when someone injected those unknown drugs into her neck. This was not something that she had remotely thought about at all while imprisoned on the Raft, but all of a sudden it felt like a big deal, because her hair had definitely been a filthy tangled mess, and now her friend made it feel normal and done something pretty with it for her. Natasha hadn't yanked her hair at all, not even while getting all the knots out of it.

"One, I've had years to deal with it by now. Two, you, especially you the telepath, should know I'm not as fine as I appear. Three, you just ask Clint what I was like when he first took me in from the Red Room." Natasha could tell something about Wanda's hair was making her emotional, but decided not to press about it, since she seemed more relieved than upset. "What a destructive little shit death machine I could be, both to others and myself. You, on the other hand, rather have too many feelings leaking everywhere rather than too little. Yours explode. Red Room beats that out of you."

Wanda gazed at the older Avenger, feeling like simply being told those things so matter-of-factly was in of itself saying Nat was not really okay. Natasha was saying she didn't have enough feelings, but not showing feelings on the outside didn't mean they weren't there at all. "You...comforting...broken me...who put...bad memories..." Wanda blinked, not wanting to start crying again, feeling like all of the tears she had kept repeatedly trying to hold back on the Raft were just all pouring out at the slightest provocation now. They came out anyway, and this frustrated her. "They...not steal...emotions. None." R-E-D R-O-O-M F-A-I-L-E-D.

Nat didn't answer her immediately; she knew why Wanda had said those things. She did give her younger teammate's good hand a gentle squeeze. "Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it beats out one's ability to express emotions well. You lose your...sense of self. Also, if you're broken, then so is literally every other member of the team. Seems to come with our job. If you don't think the rest of us are, then neither are you."

This oddly made Wanda feel better rather than worse, because it was like acknowledging something was, in fact, wrong with her, but it was normal and not something weird or bad. It was just that the rest of the team did not have mysterious, powerful enhancements affected by emotions, which was not a good thing for someone like her to have. "Thank you...talking to...me."

Natasha thought this meant Wanda had decided she was finished discussing for now, but really did feel a little better. "I'm going to take a shower myself now, all right? Would you like to go to the living room or stay here?"

Wanda debated for a moment; she did not want to be left alone at all right now, but she also didn't really want to move, either. This bed was too nice and comfy for her to want to move. There was a very, very pleasant cooking smell coming from the kitchen, though... S-T-A-Y. Natasha would be in the bathroom right across the hall; it was safe.

"That's fine, but I'm going to ask one of the boys to sit with you. I don't want you alone."

Wanda didn't protest. Ordinarily that might have made her a bit salty, that Natasha wouldn't trust her to be left alone, but she did not want to be alone anyway.


Nat returned with Scott in tow. "Now don't let her try getting up on her own, and don't talk her ears off, either. You talk too much."

Scott was mildly offended. "I do not talk too much. You can trust me with Little Red Witch Girl. Promise."

"She's not Little Red Riding Hood."

"You gave her a red blanket and she has it on her head like a hood and cape. Literally."

Wanda found this very amusing, and she finally found herself smiling for the first time since escaping the Raft. Thank you. Thank you for that. "Wolf bit me," she whispered, with a deadpan expression that unnerved Scott, who thought something was genuinely wrong and that it wasn't just a morbid joke, and made Natasha start laughing.

"Lang, she's joking. Which is a good thing," Natasha pointed out, absolutely delighted that for some reason, Scott's dumb joke had amused a very upset Wanda enough to make her smile and joke back. "Okay, I'll be in the bathroom. Knock if you need me." She gave Wanda one last smile before leaving.

"You doing a little better now, then?" Scott asked hopefully.

Wanda nodded a bit. "I'm...okay." Maybe okay wasn't the right word, but she wasn't sure how to explain. Certainly Scott knew she felt terrible physically; she didn't need to tell him that. But feelings wise, she did feel somewhat okay at the moment. Not great, but okay.

"You hesitated."

Wanda had the distinct feeling this was some media reference she did not get, from the expression on Scott's face. And she didn't want to talk much more, and he didn't know the signs for the letters. Wanda's free hand twitched nervously, fiddling with the blanket and pulling it further over her head. She hated not 'getting' things, because fluent English did not make you an expert on pop culture things, and it made her feel like more of an outsider...and she especially hated not being able to express herself easily. "I...don't...understand," she admitted finally.

Scott frowned but quickly recovered. "It's just a line from a Disney movie Cassie likes. I guess I just assumed you'd seen those at some point."

"...Old ones. Some." Wanda's nervous fiddling with the blanket grew more pointed, and Scott finally took her hand and gently laid it down again. She immediately curled her hand into a fist, running her nails back and forth on the fuzzy blanket. I can move, I can touch and feel things now. I am not stuck in that straitjacket anymore. I am lying in Nat's safe house, and Scott is talking to me. I'm fine.

"Would you like to show me the rest of the signs for the letters?" Scott suggested, thinking that maybe this would help, since it seemed like Wanda didn't want to speak more but still wanted to communicate further. "Hawkeye got me up to L on the quinjet while you were asleep. You might have to review that first part though."

Something I can do. Wanda quickly ran through the letters up to L, and then moved on to M, holding that letter up, then N. "Only thumb...different," she whispered. "Like...circle," she mentioned about O. This was kind of fun. She did not have to get up to share this information, and she enjoyed learning and practicing languages anyway. They went on up to T, and then Clint stuck his head in. Wanda waved at him.

"I see, my student is being a teacher now," Clint teased. "Is Ant-Man a good pupil?"

Wanda glanced at Scott, her eyes twinkling. T-R-I-E-S H-A-R-D, she signed quickly.

Scott knew Wanda had probably silently insulted him, because she had signed too fast for him to decipher what she'd spelled, despite her shaky fingers, and it made Clint start laughing. "What did she say, Hawkeye?"

"She says you try hard."

"Hey. Why does that feel like an insult?"

Wanda didn't look very sorry, and went back to showing him the rest of the letters. Clint watched from the doorway, relieved to see Wanda behaving more like her usual self, at least for now. She already seemed better than she had been on the jet. Clearly getting some sleep and a bath and clean clothes had helped a bit already. There were still dark circles under her eyes, she was paler than normal, and the bruises and cuts littering her skin along with the more serious injuries hadn't all miraculously vanished of course, but she was alive and safe. And she was awake...and didn't appear scared to communicate, either, which had been worrying him ever since the telepathic messages ceased in the Raft days ago. In any event, he no longer had this sickening feeling in his gut worrying that she might die. Watching her practice signing with Scott made him feel better.

Wanda abruptly sensed Clint's attention on her, and she stared at him in concern. Y-O-U O-K? she signed cautiously. Nat said they were not fine either. Maybe he is scared for no reason too.

"Yeah, yeah, just...relieved you're doing a little better." Clint didn't want to stick any more burden of I have to pretend to be fine on Wanda, but lying to her would do no good, even if she wasn't a very emotional telepath. "I do not like seeing people I care about hurt, especially when there is nothing I can do about it."

Wanda wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to that. Scott looked about as unsure what to say as she felt. Then Clint went on, "You did good in there, you know, kid," and she felt tears pooling in her eyes as she watched him walk off abruptly. Why is that making me cry? That's a compliment, that's a good thing. She did not feel like she had "done good in there", not one bit. He looked tense. "Check...on him," she whispered.

"Black Widow kind of threatened to kill me if I left you alone. I think he'll be fine."

Oh, she will not. Wanda pointed to the door, obviously still wanting Scott to go check and make sure Clint was indeed fine.

"You're upset yourself, I'm not leaving you alone," Scott said firmly. Wanda gave him such a frustrated, reproachful look that he sighed and stood up. "All right all right, I'm checking. Don't...get up or anything. You stay there."

Wanda watched him innocently; she knew she couldn't follow him even if she wanted to. She could barely hold her head up right now without resting it on the pillows. I'd collapse if I tried. Or make myself pass out. Yes, I will stay put.

The timing was either perfect or horrible, because Natasha returned less than a minute after Scott had left the room. "I told that man specifically not to leave you alone!"

Wanda signed that actually Nat had threatened him.

Natasha thought this response probably meant Wanda had asked Scott to do something. "If you asked him to do something, he should have yelled for one of the others to do it, not left you alone."

"No...no." Wanda's hand was getting very, very tired from signing so much, so her explanation was slower this time. C-L-I-N-T S-A-D. W-A-N-T-E-D S-C-O-T-T C-H-E-C-K.

Oh. "When I told you they weren't fine, that didn't mean neglect your own safety to check on them," Natasha told her. "Suppose you panicked. You can't yell for help right now if something like that did happen. You might hurt yourself further trying to deal on your own. I know you were genuinely fine this time, but still."

But I did know you were across the hall. I was safe. Wanda didn't answer this, feeling more than a little mortified that her friend didn't want her alone because she was concerned about that.

Nat paused and asked quietly, "Would it be all right to ask you something you might not want to answer? If you don't want to, that's fine, but I think I need to at least ask, especially after your fussing about the bath before. I was...thinking about it for awhile."

Wanda studied her curiously, but nodded after barely a moment's thought.

"Did anyone hurt or touch you in any way in that place besides what you've shared?" Natasha watched Wanda closely; she didn't seem to understand at first, but then the realization dawned on her, and her gaze closed off again. "I just want to make sure it's just you liking your privacy and not...because of something else. I don't think I saw one other girl in that entire hellhole other than you and myself. That is a prime place for a woman to get sexually assaulted. Did anyone do anything like that to you?"

"No," Wanda said softly. I suppose someone could have while I was unconscious at some point, but I don't believe so. Those people would have been too pleased and immediately told me. She hesitated and then signed slowly, I S-C-A-R-E-D T-H-E-M. That was one good thing, at least; those people had not seemed to be interested in assaulting her in that way ever, not even the cruel ones like Damian. Wanda slowly continued her signing to explain that those men had not wanted to be physically near her at all whenever possible, even if they were repeatedly shocking her, and she'd actively encouraged that fear herself.

Natasha stilled Wanda's shaking hand with a gentle squeeze. "I think that is a good thing. I'm glad you were spared that. There's nothing wrong with what you did."

Wanda's eyes fluttered closed, not in an I'm done talking way. She was just exhausted.

Natasha could tell Wanda was fading quickly, but she did not seem particularly distressed at the moment, just tired. "I think we should hurry and get to New York as quickly as we can now that everyone's clean and we've ditched the prison garb. You can sleep as long as you want there, and you can sleep on the way, too. There'll be an SUV waiting for us about an hour and a half or so from the vacation house, and we don't want to leave it unattended if at all possible. Do you want to rest in the living room while we load up?"

Wanda nodded a little; she didn't particularly want to move, but she also knew not being in the living room would make things take longer since then Natasha would either stay with her herself or have one of their teammates do so. So she decided to be agreeable. The living room would be fine.


Wanda wanted to do something to help, but instead Nat left her settled in a soft but scruffy-looking recliner in the living room, her ankle and arm propped up with pillows. "You can't right now, so you stay right here," Natasha said firmly.

Wanda made no further protests. She just closed her eyes and listened to the rest of the team bustling around and talking. Their voices genuinely being right there instead of way across a prison aisle was reassuring. She was nearly asleep again when someone asked her a question. Question. There was some kind of question. Or at least just someone talking directly to me. "I didn't...hear...sorry."

"That's fine. Just wondering if you'd like some cookies and milk," Sam said now, a mug and a plate of cookies in hand.

Yes. Wanda did not want help, and she figured she would probably make a mess trying to hold a mug of milk at the moment. Besides, she didn't trust herself to swallow anything like cookies anyway, so she signed no thank you instead.

Sam looked like he did not believe her, and set the dessert on the end table. "Well, I'm going to leave it here anyway in case you change your mind. I was organizing our gear while you were with Nat, and put your suit, a few clothes, and some money and things together in a duffel I found in here. You really don't carry anything else on you besides a taser and a tiny gun I don't think I've ever seen you use outside training in the first place? At first I figured some of your things must have been stolen or stored somewhere else in the Raft, but I have since been informed otherwise. I know you don't need to carry more, but still."

Wanda was mildly amused at this, because Sam looked a little concerned. Even those two piddly weapons had not really been her idea; the small pistol was from Clint and the taser from Nat. If she hadn't been given those, she would just walk into a fight 'unarmed', because she already had more than enough weapons built right inside her, and she was much better at wielding her own powers than ordinary weapons. There was also the whole 'if your weapon is taken from you it becomes a liability' thing. "...walking nuke...'member?" I'm useless right now, but...not before. She closed her eyes, trying to reach for her magic inside, but it hunkered down further in her chest and didn't want to do anything. She ripped a bit free anyway, ignoring the painful tearing sensation that caused, and held out her hand, scarlet wisps dancing around her fingers. "That is...mine. I'm not...unarmed, y-you know."

"I know. Well...your gear will be right in here, ready and waiting for you as soon as you're strong enough. There's a few other things in here too for you."

Wanda blinked and reached to touch her suit, neatly folded and waiting for her in the duffel. She hadn't seen her things since the day of the airport fight, and seeing it now, weeks later, elicited mixed feelings for her. Could she really, truly put that back on and try to do something good in this broken world, to help mitigate for her own past mistakes, knowing she would be putting a larger target on her back by doing so? Maybe she should just stay hiding and not do anything at all. She might just mess up again and hurt more people like she had in Lagos. I hadn't even really considered what all of us were going to do exactly after any escape. Obviously Sam and Nat, at least, think we're still going to...do missions and whatever, fugitives or not.

"Nobody is going to force you to put that back on, Wanda," Sam said quietly. "But it's here as a choice if you want it. Heck, you never have to go on any missions again if you don't want to. But-"

"I have to," Wanda interrupted, fingers squeezed into a fist again. I have to, because Pietro is not here and I will do it for him because he can't. Pietro only got to be an Avenger for one day. He wanted to be a hero. Change the world. I will keep going for him. "Maybe...subtle..." she hesitated, unsure how to explain herself when she didn't quite understand what she wanted in the first place. H-A-T-E S-P-O-T-L-I-G-H-T, she signed.

"You want to continue Avengers missions, but behind the scenes or otherwise lowkey roles for awhile, because putting a suit back on is too front and center for your tastes at the moment?" Sam hoped he was reading Wanda correctly; more often than not she was a bit of an enigma to him. The girl was extra as hell much of the time, but then she also didn't like being the center of attention or any kind of media stuff, either. She was quiet often, but then sometimes she would open her mouth and say something snarky. She didn't like hurting people, but heaven forbid something or someone pissed her off, especially if it involved insulting or hurting someone she loved.

Oddly, seeing her in the interrogation room on the Raft had made her easier to understand. Sam's own strategy was simply silence, which Wanda had appeared to follow suit with the first time...but the couple subsequent times they'd been dumped in that room together, she had snapped at Ross, threatened to mind-control a guard again (Ross looked scared and immediately shocked her badly for that), taunted him to leave her in sensory-deprived solitary again (Ross was baffled but did not do that to her again after that)...and appeared scared of a plain manila folder (Ross shocked her for refusing to look at whatever was in it, and then she still refused to look afterward anyway). Comparing that sort of seemingly reckless behavior with Scott's reports of what a clearly frightened Wanda was doing in her cell (mostly sitting and staring glassy-eyed, quietly crying, or listening) made it very, very clear that she'd been using all that prickly anger in an attempt to hide that she was scared and hurt. Probably she did the same thing the rest of the time too, just...not to the same extent.

Wanda nodded. "Thank y..." she trailed off, not wanting to speak more, and finished, F-O-R I-N-C-L-U-D-I-N-G M-E.

"Yeah, well. Steve, Scott, and I won't be seeing you for awhile, and I wanted to make sure you had these things, just in case you need 'em before we meet up again later."


It was completely dark when the group leaving settled in for the flight across the Atlantic back to New York. "Accounting for the time difference, we should be landing in New York at around 9PM EST. If everything goes according to plan, we'll either beat the car to the drop off point, or we'll meet it there at the same time." Steve frowned, unsure if this was a good thing timing-wise or not. They could not exactly have the quinjet staying around, so he'd be leaving his three teammates in the open temporarily.

"Who exactly is dropping this car off, and where?" Clint asked. "And why are we not simply dropping us at that vacation house? I saw Tony's message and I believe he means it to be safe, but I don't like this extra leg of the plan. It means Nat, Wanda, and I are going to be on the road for over an hour, vulnerable while we drive the rest of the way."

"There's nowhere to land there," Nat said. "That, and the closer the quinjet is to that vacation house, the more risky it may be."

"And the spider kid from the airport is dropping the car off, in an abandoned field. I've got the coordinates. He didn't sign the Accords either and isn't registered himself, so Tony thought him helping us would be an...olive branch of sorts. Proof that he's not trying to rat us out to Ross."

"Hypocrite," Wanda muttered, displeased with that information. So it was somehow okay for Iron Man to protect Spider-Man from the stupid Accords, but not her, Cap, or the others? Ridiculous.

"Okay, so that's great for us, but why is he protecting another hero's identity, a hero who also hasn't signed the Accords?" Clint sighed and settled back in his seat, glancing at Wanda lying in her cocoon of blankets and pillows on the floor. She had been half asleep, but now she was fully awake again and clearly irritated.

"I don't know, but I imagine it's because he found out what was going on inside the Raft," Steve answered slowly. "Because I did not ask Tony for help. He volunteered it by proxy."

"The hell, Cap? So he has to see his shit prototype creation torture someone in order to want to protect Spider-Man?" Clint jumped up and stuck his head into the cockpit. "He sounded like a teenage kid in the airport. Wanda is probably not all that much older than him. Tony decided he felt bad? Well, not good enough! I hope he watches all the Raft video footage from the cells, and I'll tell him exactly what went on in that interrogation room whenever I see-"

"No!" Wanda made a strained squeak, wishing she could yell that. I don't want Clint to tell him that. None of it. No, no, no.

"Barton, shut up," Nat ordered, "you are not helping."

"Good, it wasn't supposed to be helpful."

"I mean that Wanda does not want you to do that. So...don't, if you're trying to help her."

Clint appeared to deflate and simply stalked back to his seat in silence. Then he stood up, went over to Wanda, and sat next to her instead. Wanda watched him curiously; this was more of the not fine behavior Natasha had talked about. She didn't say anything aloud or sign a word, but she did reach out shakily and pat his arm. "I would rather have been dragged into that room alone. Much, much easier," he admitted.

R-O-S-S K-N-E-W, Wanda signed simply. There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever that that was precisely why she had been repeatedly dragged into that interrogation room so many times even when the Raft people weren't interested in directing questions to her at all in many of those sessions, and didn't even want her talking. That and as a bonus, they probably figured torturing her would decrease the threat level of her potentially wrecking the place, especially as she felt herself deteriorating over all those days. Sam and Clint were trained to withstand torture, after all; Scott wasn't as far as she knew and neither was she. Using her as a threat wasn't something they could train for, and Scott's constant blabbing about his daughter had probably made them assume threatening another girl would get to him too, even if it was the walking nuke they didn't consider to be a person. Thank goodness Scott was so good at telling long, long stories for extended periods of time. He had been by far the most successful at keeping attention off of her somewhat.

"Yeah, he did." Clint brushed a loose bit of hair that had fallen out of Wanda's braid away from her face. "Go to sleep. You look exhausted."

Wanda's eyes drifted closed again, and she fell asleep almost immediately.

A/N: I know Wanda isn't really doing much yet, but...yeah. She'll be okay, it'll just take awhile obviously.

next chapter coming soon!