Wanda/Peter Parker 3

*** I own nothing. I'm just having fun. ***

Wanda needed out- out of the tower, so close to Stark while they waited for the new Avengers complex for be completed, away from the orchestrator of her world's destruction twice over now, away from the man she was supposed to now accept into her life as if he belonged there. His presence grated on her nerves, an itch she could never scratch, an ache she couldn't massage away.

She had no right to resent him. Not now. Not after everything she'd done. But her heart couldn't let it go.

It was simple to make her escape. Was it even an escape if you were free to come and go as you pleased? As nice as that had sounded when the good Captain America had told her she was trusted and would not be held captive, she knew there were eyes everywhere. There was no way the powers that be would let her roam around freely. It was impossible. Governments weren't like that. SHIELD wasn't like that. The good Captain could believe what he wished. She knew better.

So yeah. It was an escape.

She was certain she'd escaped prying eyes and spying devices when she left.

Disturbing thoughts haunted her, darkness she couldn't shake, darkness that made her want to do things her brother would have hated. The desire to follow him, to give it all up and find him again in the afterlife, it was a compulsion almost too strong to fight, and Pietro would've been so disappointed if he'd known. But he didn't, did he? And he never would. He could never know anything about her ever again.

She walked quickly, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the Tower. It didn't matter where she went, only that she could outrun her thoughts, find a way to breathe through the heartbreak that constantly threatened to choke her.

Her steps sped faster and faster until they matched the racing of her heart. She was running, uncaring, unseeing, down darkened streets and alleys, until her body finally gave out and she collapsed against a wall. Sobs were torn from her body with every ragged breath she could manage. Her knees hit the pavement hard, and she clutched at the rough bricks in front of her face, the solidness of the building helping clear her messy thoughts.

"Hey. Hey. Ma'am, are you okay?" someone said behind her. She stiffened and cried out in anguish as the soul mark on her hip Flared.

No, not now. Why now? Pietro should be here... He should be here and it's all my fault...

She pressed her forehead to the wall, wishing it would just open up and swallow her whole.

"Ma'am, are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?" her soulmate asked, and she knew she couldn't put this off. She had to face this. Was this why she was hers? Was this why Pietro had died? Had he been destined to die so she could find this moment? Please no...

She turned slowly, only to see a masked man before her, closer than she had expected and reaching for her. She jerked back hard against the wall and instinctively threw up a wall of red between them as she cried out. "Don't!"

She knew he felt the Flare when he jerked, even though she couldn't see his face behind the mask and goggles.

"Not how I thought that would finally be said to me," he admitted. "I suppose it could've been worse." He paused and she knew he was studying her. His head tilted as he took in her pitiful state, and she suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. "Are...no, you're not. Obviously. Can I help?"

It took a moment for her brain to catch up. Her thoughts were sluggish, her heart desperately aching for comfort but afraid all the same. Guilt ate at her and she couldn't reach out, couldn't accept what fate was offering her. Not with her brother gone, not with his body cold in the grave and unable to ever experience happiness again.

She forced herself to her feet and ran, both relieved and saddened when he didn't pursue her.

She didn't look for him, not really, though she found videos of him on YouTube. It became an addiction, watching his exploits. He was powerful and good, so good. She would never be worthy of that. Even as the ache in her heart over the loss of her brother lessened, even as she became more open to the idea of happiness one day, a part of her still fought. How could she ever be worthy of someone like that? She was a wreck of a human being, too twisted and dark, and she had ruined anything fare could have planned for them. They could never belong together. Not now.

Seeing him at the Leipzig airport was a shock to the system. Though his costume was different, obviously upgraded by Stark, she would know his movements, know him, anywhere. Even at the great distance they were at, she just knew, and her heart pounded at seeing him again. Clint could tell something was wrong, but she shook him off, and there was too much going on for him to push.

Fighting him was difficult. She had zero desire to harm him, and she knew he recognized her too because he held back as well. They went their separate ways as soon as they could, choosing other opponents, keeping their distance, and she lost track of him. It was when she was lying on the ground in Vision's arms, head still spinning from Rhodey's attack, that she saw him again.

He was beaten, bloodied, mask up, and god he was so young. He was scanning the battlefield, looking for her? Their eyes met and he started forward only to be stopped by Stark, who sent him away as trucks approached. Stark was gesturing wildly, yelling, and Wanda mouthed one word at her soulmate, who kept looking back over at her. "Go," she told him. If Stark wanted him to leave, he should go. No sense he be caught up in the ugliness that she knew was about to happen. He didn't need to see it.

His face hardened, but he nodded and ran just in time. Stark took charge of Rhodey's medical care, and the rest of the we're left to the government's tender mercies as they were secured and stuffed into armored transports. Wanda didn't fight. She didn't have the energy or the focus. Her head was a goddamn mess. But her soulmate was safe, and she could be satisfied with that.

Prison was... not the worst thing she'd ever experienced. Admittedly, she'd never been collared and secured so tightly, but she knew what it was to have no dignity, to be treated like a lesser being. People had been treating her and Pietro like that for so long she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be treated any other way before Hydra got their hands on them. It was unpleasant, but prison was supposed to be, right? At least they fed her.

She almost didn't believe it when the good Captain arrived to free them. The rescue went far too smoothly and she would've thought it was a trick except that the others were there. They were there and they were happy, and it really was okay.

And her soulmate was there, waiting for her on the jet, giving her water and sitting her down, stuttering over how sorry he was, how he'd helped break the codes and he wished he could've done more, done it faster, that he hadn't left her there to be carted away to the hellhole of the Raft. She watched him, silent, words escaping her. He was here. He was here. He'd come for her. Did he understand how much that meant?

"You're here now," she rasped, unused to speaking after so long. He kneeled at her feet and looked up at her so earnestly that it hurt her heart to see it, to see the devotion on his young face.

"Y-you may not want me. I mean, I'm not the best catch or anything. Heck, I'm still in high school, and you're, y'know, you, and you might not want me around, but if you do, I'm here. I'm in this, okay? My Aunt May would never let me forget it if I left my soulmate when she needed me, and I wouldn't do that anyway, and I'm probably talking way too much, but I just wanted you to know that I'm here and I'm gonna be here, okay? I don't care what anybody says, not even Mr. Stark."

Wanda couldn't find all the words she wanted to say, couldn't keep up with him, but she knew what she wanted.

"Stay," she whispered. She smiled at the hope in his eyes, and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Stay."