When Natasha woke up in the morning, Wanda had already gotten out of bed. A strange occurrence since even if she did wake before Nat, she would cuddle into the older woman until she awakened as well. However that morning, she was already up and sorting through her things as if taking inventory. She chalked it up to Wanda worrying about leaving anything behind on the final leg of their trip. Then once on the jet the little witch had still been tired, so she slept most of the way to New York, curled up on a cot with her nose practically against the wall and Natasha having to encourage her heavily to eat anything when she managed to rouse her.
When they arrived at the Compound it was late, Vision greeting them on the tarmac having traveled there a couple days ago to make any final preparations for their arrival. He led them to where the residence was located, pointing out the building that were set a bit apart from the Avenger's living quarters- training facilities for new agents and operatives, labs for Dr. Selvig and Dr. Foster when she was inclined to be in town and not chasing down physics anomalies, a state of the art medical facility for Dr. Cho to continue her cell repair research. Within the residence the layout was not dissimilar from the Tower in the city expect everything was more spaced out. The top floor had the living room space opening into the kitchen, entertainment rooms to one side of the building and the bedroom corridors on the other side, the lower floors housing the Avenger's private training facilities and garages.
Since it was already verging on late and Wanda still seemed overly tired, Natasha took her to her bedroom, "What do you think? You like it?"
"It's nice." Wanda peered about the room at the cool, gray walls and clean, white furniture waiting for personal touches to be added. Boxes that movers had delivered to her room of her things they had left behind at the Tower were piled in a corner. Nat would have her own boxes stacked in her room waiting for her to unpack as well.
"My room is right across the hall from yours."
"Okay." Wanda sat down on the end of her bed.
Moving to stand in front of the girl, Natasha gave her a concerned smile, "Do you want to have one more sleepover?"
"No, I'm alright." The teenager shrugged.
"Okay." Still she hovered near her, waiting for more from her.
"Good night." Wanda looked up at her seeming to be waiting for something from her too.
Closing the distance between them, the redhead pulled her in for a hug, briefly pressing her lips to Wanda's forehead, relieved to find she at least did not seem too warm or feverish. Then for the first time all day, the little witch rubbed her cheek against Nat's chest, bringing her arms around the woman's waist in a moment of her usual tactile behavior. After a moment, Natasha said as she kept holding on to the girl, "Sleep well, malyshka."
The arms fell from her waist then, Wanda sniffed, and Natasha backed away slowly, still trying to discern the far-away mood that Wanda was in. Outwardly, she appeared fine, but it was like she was holding something back. The woman faltered; her concern trapped on her lips as she ended up turning to go. Once outside the room, shutting the door, the Black Widow nearly turned right back around to recheck on the teenager, however she stopped herself. She would give Wanda space for now as her mind listed off excuses for her distance- there was always a bit of an adjustment period for the Sokovian when they traveled to a new location, she was exhausted from the busyness of the past few weeks finally catching up to her, or maybe she was just having a bad day.
It was just one bad day, Natasha thought to herself and went to retire to her room for the night.
However one bad day turned into a few bad days and then a bad week and then a bad couple of weeks. In a way, Wanda pulling away from her had not been obvious. Initially the girl continued to hang around her and the team, quiet yet present, and let Nat put an arm around her or kiss her forehead. But then the little witch always stayed at literally an arm's length away from her, always slightly out of reach and with the firm implication that was what she wanted. Then any effort to start her in training, whether physically or magically, was declined with complete disinterest. Now Wanda would hide away in her room for large chunks of time and after dinner she would disappear into it entirely until the next morning. It was reminiscent of when Wanda had first started living with them, except perhaps worse. She tried to stay present for the teenager, still asking if she needed anything, listening for nightmares but there were none. There was nothing Wanda seemed to want from her and it terrified Natasha, a strangling feeling of inability to help her roiling to the surface.
Because when she looked back now, all of the signs had been glaringly obvious from that first night at the Compound when Wanda had declined a sleepover, on the jet earlier when she did not rest her head in her lap to sleep, when the girl had been across the room from her when she had woken up that morning. She should have known in that instant something was more wrong than new-move jitters or a bout of melancholy. And now, it felt she had left it too long, and it was becoming nearly impossible to get anything out of Wanda. Their relationship become a thin thread being held between them and it was being pulled, more and more taut, as if it would snap at any moment.
Natasha realized she had been staring blankly at the same page of her report for the twenty minutes without comprehending any of it. Tossing the packet of papers onto the coffee table, she tapped her phone sitting on the arm of the couch next to her to check the time. The screen illuminated and showed it was 7:25 pm and the image on her lock-screen of her and Wanda silhouetted in front of the glowing tank, in front of them an empty pale blue and behind them a pack of sharks, almost looking like they were seconds from cascading down on them. Sharon snapped the picture that day at the aquarium before coming to warn them of the attention they were drawing to themselves. She loved the photo however it now also caused a pang in her chest.
"Hey, how's the reading going?" Steve suddenly entered the living room where she had sat up shop, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he walked around the couch to sit next to her.
"It's not." Natasha sighed, rubbing her forehead while trying to offer him a wane smile. Steve was worried too, for Wanda and for her. Unlike the little witch, he had stayed close over the few weeks since they had arrived at the Compound. She enjoyed the time they spent together, though at the same time she felt a little guilty when she was with him. There were times when her heart was just not in it, or rather distracted, and she knew Steve could tell. Of course he was patient and understanding about it though. He knew something was amiss even if they did not talk about it.
"Are you done for the night then?"
Curling into his side as his arm came around her shoulders she nodded, "Yeah, I'll finish up tomorrow."
"It's still pretty early. Want to watch a movie tonight?" He asked.
"Sure, that sounds good." Though she made no move to pull away from his warmth yet, .
The captain looked in the direction of the bedrooms, "Wanda in her room?"
"Mhm." The confirmation sounded tight in her throat.
"Should I.. go ask if she wants to join?" He inquired with a bit of hesitation.
Natasha attempted to give him a guileless smile, "Yeah, see if she's up for it. I'll go make us some popcorn."
/
Wanda sat on the ground at the foot of her bed and sobbed quietly into her knees. Most of the time her sadness sat as a constant pit in her stomach but sometimes it filled, spilling over into an unavoidable outpour of emotions, like what was currently happening. She was tired, she had not been eating or sleeping well, and she wanted her.. Tasha. However the Black Widow was not her anything and she would have to be able to survive on her own.
It was not that she could not feel the hovering worry from the Avengers for her. Even without her powers the teenager could see their attempts at overly focused eye contact with her and sense the worried glances behind her back.
The little witch had tried to stay around Natasha and the others when they first arrived at the Compound, but it proved to be too difficult. Every moment became a reminder of what she would have to give up and it was too much to bear, so she isolated herself. Whenever Natasha asked if she wanted to do yoga in the morning with her or read to her before bed, Wanda firmly and politely refused, claiming fatigue or that she could read on her own, though she had not read anything since their last night in Malibu. Nancy Drew and the Secret of the Old Clock still sat on her nightstand, the word she had gotten stuck on still unknown to her. And as much as she wanted to curl into the affection Natasha gave- an arm squeezing her shoulders, her lips quickly pressing to her temple, resting her head against the woman's chest as her voice rhythmically recited words from a page. Wanda began to shy away from that as well, keeping to her room as much as possible, so when she had to leave maybe it would not hurt so much.
However, Wanda found it still hurt a hell of a lot as she tried to stifle her crying, a whimper once again turning into a sob. Then someone knocked on her door. Sooner than she could answer, the door pulled open and Steve's voice came through before his head popped in, "Hey little bird, Nat and I are watch-"
His sentenced halted abruptly at seeing Wanda on the ground in tears. Steve rushed to her side, "Wanda, what's wrong?"
"No Steve." She pushed the words out through her weeping, "Get out, please."
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He reached for her as he knelt but when she flinched and cried harder he stopped, "Do you want me to get Nat?"
"No, not Tasha. Steve, just get out." Wanda did not want Natasha to see her upset, because she would be all tenderness, gathering Wanda into her arms, feeling the temperature of her forehead for reasons that were lost on the girl, easily plucking the solution for her distress out of thin air. The problem being that was exactly what she wanted and could not have.
"Wanda, I'm not leaving you alone like this." Steve insisted, though appeared to be at a terrible loss as to what to do as his eyes darted around anxiously. "I really think we need Nat-"
"No!" The witch erupted then. As she rose to her feet, her older glamour flew into place. Steve shot to his feet too, as suddenly a 20-something year old looking Wanda now spewed angrily at him in a mixture of English and Sokovian. "No, Steve, get out! I don't need you, I don't need Natasha. Get out!"
As she yelled, her voice deepening to reflect her false age and indignant ire, Wanda's magic pulsed out from her and there was a high pitch whine that vibrated the walls. Steve backed away from the witch with his hands up in a placating gesture. "Wanda, calm down.."
"Go!" Her magic whipped as irate, red tendrils from her torso. They lashed out harder than before and Steve stumbled back from the force of them. If it had been someone beside Captain America, like Sharon or maybe even Sam, the shove would probably have been enough to knock them down. The man hurried to make his exit; the door slamming shut behind him. Then the vicious crimson wisps dissipated from around her. With panting breaths, Wanda wiped her cheeks to try and get rid of the moisture there. The teenager knew that she had done something wrong and a bit of panic set in as to what would happen next.
The girl froze when in the next moment she heard Natasha exclaim, muffled yet distinct, "She did what?!"
Wanda's stomach sunk.
/
Natasha watched the popcorn bag puffing up in the microwave, the stacco, erratic popping sounded off and the smell of salt and butter filled the air. Then suddenly there was a strange rattle to the overhead lights; the woman looked up at them with confusion. She listened more intently and realized the low rumble seemed to be coming from the direction of the bedrooms. Abandoning her task, she made her way curiously to the sleeping quarters. As she reached the hallway she shared with Wanda, Natasha heard in a voice that barely sounded like Wanda's shout, "Go!"
A moment later Steve hastily came out of Wanda's room, the door practically clipping his heel as it slammed shut behind him. She gave the man a questioning look as he walked towards her, "Steve, what's going on?"
"Ah- um, well, when I went in to see Wanda, she was upset, crying-" He stuttered a bit at her, but Natasha interjected when she heard the girl had been crying.
She tried to move around Steve to get to her while asking, "Why is she upset?"
The man caught her by both arms, "Just wait a sec Nat. I don't know why she was upset but I was trying to help and…"
"And what?" She stared at him intently then, waiting for him to say what he seemed so reluctant to tell her.
"She," Waving on of his hand in a poor imitation of Wanda practicing her magic, the words tumbled out of him, "she used her powers to appear older. And pushed out those red wisp things."
"She did what?!" The Black Widow's jaw dropped. Anger throbbed at her temples, and she pulled in the direction of the girl's room.
Steve still holding onto her tried to stop her, "Just wait, Nat. I barged in there without-"
"That does not excuse her behavior." The woman successfully jerked away from him to march down the hall and yank open Wanda's door with no hesitation. "Wanda Maximoff."
The Sokovian stood in the middle of her bedroom still appearing as the older version of herself though the wide-eyed expression of apprehension on her face looked more like her Wanda. Nat scowled, "Drop the illusion now."
Her voice left no room for argument. In a blink, Wanda flipped back into her teenage self. The girl tried to erase the evidence of tears from her cheeks, but it was very clear she had been crying, looked on the precipice of crying again despite her stoic silence. Ignoring her instinct to rush forward and comfort the little witch, Natasha went on in her sharp tone, "What did I say would happen if you acted out with your powers instead of using your words?"
Wanda crossed her arms over herself and bit her lip. Steve spoke up from behind her having followed her back into the room, "Nat, I did come in without her permission."
"This isn't about what you did, Steve." Natasha held onto her anger, an easier, more familiar emotion. "This is about Wanda disobeying a rule. What did I say would happen, Wanda?"
In a small, crackling voice the teenager replied, "There- there would be a consequence."
"And you said you understood that?" The older woman demanded.
"Yes.." Wanda seemed to shrink away from her, and she was surprised there were no new tears from her.
"Apologize to Steve. You're lucky you didn't hurt him."
"Nat-" Captain America said in a way that seemed like he would protest on the girl's behalf. She cut him off with a withering glare and turned back to Wanda expectantly.
She sniffled, "I'm sorry, Steve."
"For?" The Widow prompted.
"I- I'm sorry I yelled and used by powers." A couple tears did escape her eyes then and she quickly wiped them away.
"It's alright, sweetheart." The man told her kindly, "I'm sorry too. I should have waited for you to answer before I came in. You have a right to space and privacy."
Wanda dipped her head, another little 'I'm sorry' issuing out of her. Taking a deep breath, Natasha tried to calm down as she stated, "Steve, can you please leave us."
She could feel his hesitancy, but he placed his hand on her shoulder for a moment then turned to leave them alone. There was a heavy silence between them for a moment as Natasha considered Wanda. The little witch had her arms tightly clutched around her middle like she was trying to hold herself together, not only were her eyes red from crying but there were dark circles under them indicating a lack of sleep, and her face looked thinner from when the last time Nat had really gotten a chance to inspect it. The image shattered her heart. Stepping forward, the Black Widow began evenly yet firmly, desperately wanting to fix this, "Wanda, why were you so upset when Steve found you?"
Wanda looked down and shrugged. She tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice as she pushed, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
"No." The opaque reply from the girl surprised and hurt her more than a single word should.
She squared her shoulders, adopting her commanding agent demeanor, "Last chance Wanda. What had you so upset?"
"Nothing." Wanda said though her eyes shifted worriedly at how Natasha would respond.
The redhead's brow darkened almost involuntarily, her anger and frustration getting the better of her as she said stonily, "Consider yourself grounded until you're ready to talk.. Go sit at your desk."
While the teenager had been unwilling to answer her question, she quickly complied with the order and went to sit at the wooden desk in the corner of her room. Natasha felt slightly out of control as she acted purely on her emotions. She approached and pulled open the top drawer finding some office supplies that had been provided when they moved in. Pulling out a yellow legal pad and pencil, she wrote at the top of the page:
I am sorry I used my powers in anger. I will not misuse my powers.
She dropped the pad of paper on the desk in front of Wanda harder than necessary, the whacking sound making the girl jump a little. Setting the pencil on it then, the woman pointed at the items, "Write out that line all the way down the page. You'll do four pages, legible and no mistakes. If you make a mistake, start the page over again. When you're finished, brush your teeth and go straight to bed. Do you understand?"
Her authoritative tone did not sound foreign to her, she had spoken like this countless times on missions or in debriefs but it felt strange now, causing a burning feeling in her chest that it was directed at Wanda. The teenager nodded, but Natasha ordered, "Use your words, milaya."
The term of endearment slipped in amongst her hardness. Wanda swallowed and in a clearer voice than she anticipated said, "Yes. I understand."
Natasha nodded then, though her thoughts and feeling still felt like they were reeling. The only thing she could think was she needed more control of the situation. She went to Wanda's nightstand and opened the drawer. As she expected, all of her favorite things were sitting in there, she tugged on the drawer more until it fell out of the stand entirely. When Wanda realized what was happening, she stood from her chair looking absolutely stricken.
"Natasha, no-"
"Sit back down." The woman snapped. Wanda dropped back into her seat so fast it probably hurt. "You can have your things when you earned them back."
Natasha watched as Wanda frantically scanned the room at the few items she did have out. The stuffed shark on her bed, some books on the shelf and the photos of her family on the dresser were the only personal affects that adorned the room. Otherwise it looked much the same from when they first arrived with the plain white comforter on the bed and not many things taking up the surfaces. The teenager had one of her hands balled into a fist, the other one covering it and Natasha realized her was trying to conceal her ring with the birthstones that she never took off as if the woman would make her give that up too. Nat deflated, her heart cracking just a little bit more.
"Nothing will happen to your things." Her voice the softest it had been. "You'll get everything back, I promise."
Worry still wrinkled her brow as Wanda bit her thumb but she nodded. There was another drag of silence between them then Natasha spoke solemnly, "Write your lines. Brush your teeth and get to bed."
Nodding again, the girl moved to face her desk, slowly reaching for the pencil to start her assignment. Natasha walked to the door with the drawer, leaving everything else in its place. Before she stepped out into the hallway, glanced back at the girl, her slender shoulders hunched and defeated as she began her task. Nat quietly, dejectedly said, "Good night Wanda."
There was no reply as she exited the bedroom. Steve was next to her in an instant apparently having not gone far when he left. The door was barely shut behind her as he inquired about what happened, keeping his voice low so Wanda would not hear, "Is Wanda alright? Did she say why she was upset?"
"I don't know. She wouldn't say." Nat exhaled in defeat, "Right now she's grounded."
"What's with the drawer?"
"I- I took it. As punishment." The spy felt like she was admitting to a terrible crime.
And the way Steve responded as he realized what was in the drawer confirmed her feelings that it had been a bad judgment, "Oh Nat, I don't think- I mean, that's.."
While he struggled to voice his disapproval, Natasha did not need him to in order to feel the guilt that now shook her insides. She withdrew from him, "I don't need to hear it, Steve."
"Natasha.. It'll be okay." He offered her, the words feeling hollow to her even though he truly meant them.
"I'm actually really tired. I'm just going to go to bed." The redhead stated. Exhaustion settled deeply into her bones. "Good night, Steve."
"Good night, Nat." He sounded sad as she turned and headed to her room without another word. Once in her room, Natasha took the confiscated drawer and set it on her dresser, next to the horse statue prominently displayed there. She rubbed the nose of it gingerly with her fingertip then focused her attention on the items that Wanda had stored away for safe keeping. Inside the wood box were the rolled posters she got for Christmas, Little Women and The Hobbit, the silver rings Nat had given her that she had not been wearing, her sunglasses, the select few National Geographics issues, and on top over everything lay the photobooth pictures from their trip to Long Beach.
She had the same copies; all of the women did since the booth allowed them to select how many were printed. Picking up the strip of photos that was only of her and Wanda, Natasha ran her thumb over one of Wanda's smiling faces. There were four pictures. The top frame they had not been ready, and Wanda looked like she was in the middle of saying something while Nat was in motion adjusting her hair, in the next Wanda uncertainly stuck her tongue out as the Black Widow crossed her eyes, the third panel the girl was turned into the older woman smiling through her bout of shyness with Nat's lips pressed to her forehead, and in the final picture they both looked at the camera, the cheeks pressed together with big matching grins.
Natasha would give anything to go back to then and tell that happy, smiling woman to hang onto the equally happy, smiling girl. To not let her slip off into this darkness that now haunted the both of them. She dropped the pictures back into the draw, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as a sob escaped. Tears spilled from her eyes and more sobs steadily came from her as her despair released her body. The sounds of heartbreak filling the room.