WAKANDA

Steve reached out a hand to help Clint to his feet.

"Owww," the archer complained massaging his arm and shoulder from where he'd landed. "Damn if that didn't take me off guard."

Steve chuckled, relieved that Clint's reaction was humour and not anger as he'd expected.

"You alright?"

Clint stretched out the kinks and groaned as he straightened out his back and rubbed his arm. Nothing was broken but he was definitely going to be feeling it for a few days. He wasn't getting any younger.

"We shoulda figured something like that would happen sooner or later." Clint went to the door but Steve stopped him.

"Wait, we need to give her some space, Clint."

Clint stopped and frowned. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No."

"Hell, no. No way, man. I'm going in there, and I'm going to kick her teenage butt. There is no way in hell that I'm going to let her away with tossing us out of the room like friggen rag dolls."

Steve put a hand on Clint's forearm to stop him. "C'mon, Clint; hear me out on this."

Clint yanked his arm away. "No, Steve, I'm serious here. I don't get why you're not just as pissed as me. What's with you? Why the kid gloves with this girl?"

Steve put his hands in his pockets. "I am angry with her, but Clint, you won't win against her right now. She's virtually impossible to defeat and if she feels threatened…" Steve let his voice tail off. He knew he didn't have to explain himself. Clint had witnessed what Wanda was capable of too.

Clint put his hands on his hips irritably, inhaling deeply to calm himself down. "So, what now then?"

Steve's blue eyes looked distant as he pondered just that. He didn't have any answers. He just knew that Wanda was not someone they could strong arm. She had to submit to them or there was no point. To do anything else was stupid and dangerous.

"I think there is no other choice, gentlemen."

Steve and Clint both looked startled when they saw T'Challa standing there. The man was not the Black Panther for nothing. Neither man had heard the King of Wakanda walk up behind them.

Steve sighed. "I don't like it, T'Challa." Steve knew exactly what the young King had in mind.

The tall black man nodded his understanding. "I know. It's not ideal but it is the best solution given the circumstances. She's a child, and she needs to learn self-control and discipline. Containing her powers will not take them forever, it will just allow you the control you need to discipline and train her. Once she leaves Wakanda, they will be returned to normal."

"I'm going to put a bell on you," grumbled Clint, still trying to get over his shock of the man coming out of nowhere.

T'Challa laughed as he glanced down at his feet. "Shuri made me these shoes."

Clint glowered at the man's delight over his new footwear.

Steve ran a hand through his blonde hair. "How do you plan to control her powers?"

"It may have already been done."

Steve furrowed a brow. "How so?"

"The liniment Shuri brought?" guessed Clint, his face taking on an impressed expression.

T'Challa nodded. "My mother still reigns as Queen of Wakanda. After speaking with Wanda this afternoon, she felt it was the best decision we could make for the girl. She believes that Wanda is very troubled and haunted; guilt plaques her as much as her anger does. I believe you gentlemen have your work cut out for you with the girl; however, with her powers under control, you will be better able to focus on empowering her to overcome her issues."

Steve puffed out his cheeks and nodded. "Thank you, T'Challa. We are eternally grateful for all you have done for us."

T'Challa bowed before them humbly. "Please say you will join my family for dinner tonight as our guests."

Clint stepped forward offering his hand in a handshake. "That's real nice of you, but I think we're gonna need to take a rain check tonight."

"Raincheck?" asked T'Challa, unsure of the colloquialism.

"It means that we hope you will offer to host dinner another time when we are able to accept," offered Steve, extending his hand in friendship as well.

T'Challa nodded. "Of course, my friends. The doctor said Wanda may return to your residence. I will bid you good evening now and wish you the best of luck with Wanda."

With those final words, T'Challa disappeared down the hallway.

Clint turned to look at Steve. "I'm buying that dude a bell."

Steve chuckled and shook his head, then looked towards the door to where Wanda was staying. He put his hands behind his back and began to pace quietly. Clint stared at him for a moment and then went a sat on the closest chair.

"So, you're gonna pace rather than deal with her?"

Steve kept pacing. "I need to think."

"Fine by me, technically she's your kid anyway, but I'm telling you that when we go in that room, I'm gonna bust her tail."

Steve shook his head. "I rather you didn't do that, Clint. She's a young woman, not a small child."

"You sound like my wife," grumbled Clint, crossing his arms in annoyance. "I don't particularly care how old she is at the moment. If my kid purposely tossed me out of a room, I'd kick her ass."

Steve stopped pacing and scrutinized Clint for a moment. "Do you really mean that?"

Clint frowned. "I said it, didn't I?"

"You did, but since I'm not a father and you are, do you really mean you would physically chastise your child given the same circumstances. Think about it, Clint. Think about what Wanda has been through. Her parents were killed when she was 10 years old; she was manipulated and experimented upon, locked up and abused for years until the girl didn't even know what normal is anymore. How do we expect her to react? Not to mention, her twin brother –her only living family-being killed so horrifically. Imagine the connection those two had as twins, especially with Wanda's telekinesis."

Clint's face paled as he pondered Steve's words. He scratched his scruffy face thoughtfully and then heaved a weary sigh. "Ok, ok, you're right. Laura's right. I suck."

Steve smiled. "No, you're just being a dad, I think. A no-nonsense kind of dad like mine was. My father wouldn't have put up with much either."

Clint didn't think so either, given what he knew about that generation. "So, what's the plan Captain?"

Steve's face looked pained. "Please, Clint, don't call me that."

Clint became more serious. "I'm sorry, Steve, I meant nothing by it but respect."

"I know. I'm just not sure if I can even identify with that persona anymore. Captain America—who I thought he was and what he stood for—doesn't exist any longer, and that means I'm not sure who I am anymore."

Clint put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I do. You're a good man, Steve. You have a good heart. I don't know what went down between you and Stark, but I know signing the Accords is not a cut and dry decision, especially not from what I heard. You follow your heart, man and stand up for the little guy. You have integrity and honour, something this world is sadly lacking today."

Steve lowered his head and a humble smile pulled at his lips. "Thank you, my friend."

Clint nodded feeling awkward at the moment. He hadn't intended on going on about the Accords but it was weighing heavy on his mind. Steve, Wanda and he were essentially seeking sanctuary in Wakanda while at Stark's and Fury's mercy to clean up the mess.

"I know you miss your family, Clint. I don't think I ever told you how much I appreciated you stepping up…"

Clint lifted a hand to forestall Steve from going any further. "The Avengers should not be a governed body. It makes no sense in hell to do that. We have to autonomous. The decisions we make are not something that can be decided by a committee. I fought beside you because I believe we are right."

Steve nodded satisfied that Clint understood. He took a deep breath and looked at the door to Wanda's room. "Are you ready to fight another battle beside me?"

Clint chewed his lip. "I am, but I still wanna kick her sassy teenage butt."

Steve rolled his eyes and walked to the door. "Try to contain yourself."

"Whatever. Don't knock, man, just walk the hell in. She lost any kind of rights you think she deserves when she threw us out the damned door. It's time to show her who's boss."

Steve opened his mouth to say something but Clint reached out and pushed the door open.

NEW YORK

"Is it that bad?" asked Pepper, grimacing at the faces Tony made as he picked at the omelette she had fixed for him.

Tony played with the food on his plate, lost in thought and was startled when Pepper spoke. He looked up at her with his dark eyes and smiled. He should have been wining and dining the woman rather than gloomily picking at the cold eggs she'd managed to wrestle up for them. So much for a romantic evening of grovelling for her forgiveness.

"Only a few shells this time, Pep. Getting way better than before."

Pepper reached out and punched him lightly on the arm making Tony laugh out loud. Pepper picked up her wine glass and topped it up, grabbed a strawberry out of the bowl in the center of the table and stared at him.

"So, why don't you start by telling me about the boy."

Tony stood up, scraped the rest of his food into the garbage and took his plate to the sink, rinsing it under the tap thoughtfully. He didn't know where to begin telling Peter about Peter. It was complicated to say the very least. Tony leaned on the counter and rubbed the back of his neck. Pepper went to join him and began to massage the kinks of out his tense muscles.

"You're so tense, Tony."

Tony moaned in appreciation and he worked his neck around in circles as she attempted to massage his tension away. Her touch quickly awakened other parts of him as well and he groaned in physical pain at the thought of not being able to allow him to go down that road.

"Tony," she pleaded suddenly spinning him around to face her. "Please, talk to me."

His dark eyes moistened as he looked into her blue eyes. He'd missed her more than words could say. He took her by the hands and led her to the sofa in his living room. He sat down and pulled her down beside him. He took a deep breath and for once, he let down his bravado and spoke from his heart.

WAKANDA

Wanda winced as she applied a generous amount of the liniment to her injury. The cream soothed the burning ache that throbbed in her shoulder. Tears still lingered in her red-rimmed eyes as she replaced the bandage carefully and cradled her arm thinking about Steve and Clint. Clint Barton was a difficult man to figure out. He could be so compassionate towards her. She would never forget how kind he had been to her in Sokovia. Things had gotten so overwhelming so fast. Clint had been so protective and had rescued her, giving her permission to hide and be safe if she chose.

"Doesn't matter what you did, or what you were. If you go out there, you fight and you fight to kill. Stay in here, you're good. I'll send your brother to come find you. But if you step out that door, you are an Avenger," he'd said, all the while being so kind and gentle. Almost paternal. It had brought tears to her eyes then, reminding her of another time when her father had been alive.

And then when he'd come to free her from Vision, he'd been stern but still so very kind telling her that if she wanted to make amends, that she needed to get off her ass. It was a gruffness she could appreciate. Like something a loving father would say to his kid to stir them out of complacency.

Then Wanda thought about Steve and how he'd taken her under his wing and trained her with such compassion and skill. He helped her hone her skills and control them. She'd felt so lost after Sokovia and all that happened. Steve had taken his time to befriend her and love her. When no one else trusted her, Steve had embraced her. He had taught her to trust herself. That is until that fateful day in Nigeria when she lost control and so many innocent bystanders died because of her.

Steve had tried to comfort and take the blame on himself but deep down Wanda knew that the blame belonged to her. Steve had trained her well and she'd lost control. That was her fault and no one else's. She should have done better.

Tears streamed from her eyes once again. She had tried to make amends over and over but every time she messed up worse than the time before. Being restrained, locked up in prison and then rescued and taken to Wakanda to wait had pretty much been the final straw. All of it was killing her inside. Too much downtime, and too much time alone in her own head. Since arrived in Wakanda, both Steve and Clint had left her to her own devices, each man mourning their own loses. It had left her unsettled and basically freaked out. It hadn't taken long for the nightmares to resume, only this time it was different. Before Pietro had been killed, her nightmares always revolved around her parents' death but now they were about her parents, Pietro and all the people she'd killed. The nightmares were torturous. She hardly slept peacefully anymore.

Wanda stood up suddenly, feeling odd. Her heart rate increased and she felt light-headed. What was wrong? She didn't feel like herself. She felt like all her energy was being drained from her. Had she allowed her powers to take over too much? Had she given in to the intensity and somehow injured herself. Wanda looked down at her fingertips and willed the red energy to flow through her fingers. Nothing happened. Wanda began to panic. What had she done?

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Steve followed behind Clint and stopped when he saw Wanda's pale face. The girl's lips were trembling and her red-rimmed eyes were open wide in terror.

"Hey, kiddo, are you okay?" asked Clint, compassion and worry apparent in his voice.

Wanda didn't seem to hear him as she stared at her fingers. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wiggled her fingers and scrunched up her face like she was in pain.

"Wanda," said Steve stepping into her personal bubble and tipping her chin up to face him. When her eyes focussed on him, he said, "Hey, what's the matter?"

Wanda brushed his hand away. "Don't."

Clint stepped up and stood beside Steve, both of their faces filled with concern. Wanda was distraught and on the verge of panic. They hadn't seen her like that, not since Sokovia when her brother was killed. Wanda had been completely out of control then. Her grief had made her powers unstoppable.

Steve made an attempt to embrace the teen girl, trying to comfort her as he recognized her panicked state. Steve had felt moments of complete terror when he'd awoken after being frozen for so long. He understood what true panic was.

Wanda shoved him away with all her might and then immediately Steve understood what was upsetting her. She was as weak as a kitten and no match for his strength. Under normal circumstances, she could have sent him flying across the room or even through the window. But now her strength was sapped and she merely succeeded in making him take a step back. Steve pinned Clint with a look that he hoped the other man would understand. Wanda was powerless.

"Wanda, I know you're frightened, but listen to me a minute," said Steve, making his voice sound as gentle as possible. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be thrown back into his physical body before being enhanced by super serum. It was unfathomable to him.

Wanda's frightened eyes darted between Clint and Steve but she remained rational enough to be calm in her panic.

"Honey, you were showing little control over your powers so King T'Challa had them contained for the time being…" explained Steve carefully, watching for the young teen's reaction. Wanda's face registered astonishment and then clear rage. Steve could see her hands trembling as she tried to summon her powers to the surface. Steve imagined that in all the time she was locked away as a young girl, she may have found her powers comforting.

"I have to say you were warned, Shortcake but you were stubbornly defiant. T'Challa could not risk one of his subjects being hurt," piped up Clint, his voice was also gentle but held a firmer tone to it. Steve wondered how his friend did that. Experience, maybe?

"H-how?" managed Wanda, awestruck. Her powers had become part of her identity and she wasn't sure how to process what she was being told.

Steve again tried to reach out to comfort her but Wanda held her hands up to keep him at a distance.

"Technology is…" began Steve.

"It makes no difference, Wanda," interrupted Clint sternly, "The fact of the matter is you are grounded from using them in Wakanda. You need to learn self-control, and frankly, I'm a little pissed you tossed me out of the room on my ass earlier. I say we deal with that first."

Steve groaned much louder than he meant too. Clint wasn't going to let that drop.

"Clint, please…"

"No, Steve, I'm sorry but I think this is where we should start with her. We need to establish some rules and consequences for breaking them. Let's be upfront and stop pussy footing around."

Wanda looked shell-shocked and angry at the same time. "Rules?" Her mind was spinning in circles as she tried to wrap her head around her powers being taken from her. How was that even possible? What kind of place was Wakanda anyway? And what kind of technology could steal her powers without her even realizing it? It didn't make sense.

"Clint, I'd rather we discussed this privately another time…"

Clint shook his head in disagreement and dragged a chair from the corner. He reached for Wanda's arm but she pulled away, anger flickering in her eyes. Her lingering threat did nothing to waylay Clint from his agenda though. He just reached for her again more determined to catch her arm. Steve sighed trying to fathom in his own mind how much he was going to allow and when he'd step in. He wasn't a parent and had no idea how to handle a teenager. He had a vague recollection how his father had handled his rebellion but it was a very different time, heck they were in a very different country.

"Look, kid, none of this makes sense to you, and I completely get you are a little freaked out and ticked off. You have that right, but," Clint managed to capture her arm in his and keep a firm grip on it despite her struggling against him. He moved her forcibly to the chair, forcing her to sit down in front of him. He stuck a paternal finger in her face. "You don't have the right to use your powers against us. We are not the enemy. T'Challa putting a lid on your powers was a hell of a good decision! You showed a piss-poor lack of self-control by how you acted in the meadow and by throwing us out the door. Who the hell do you think you are, kid?"

Wanda's eyes were large as Clint lectured her about her behaviour. Steve watched quietly as the girl's anger melted away and was replaced by something else…not repentance, but perhaps defeat? Steve couldn't put his finger on it. He walked over, grabbed a chair and sat in front of Wanda. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for the girl. Her lower lip trembled and she truly looked pathetic. Lost. Overwhelmed. Young. He reached for her trembling hand and still she pulled away. Steve licked his lips and felt discouraged. What was it going to take to win her over? To just give him a little trust…he thought he'd won it before…before Nigeria.

"So, I want you to know," continued Clint, who was still in full-blown 'lecture the kid mode'. "You step out of line like that again…"

"Clint," admonished Steve, shooting his friend a look that said it was time to back off. "Her powers are gone for now. Wanda couldn't do it again even if she wanted to. Enough, already."

Clint crossed his arms and heaved a loud sigh but he shut up leaving his thought unfinished.

Steve looked back at Wanda and his heart went out to her. "Sweetie, everything is going to be okay. Your powers are not gone forever, just under wraps for a while. I think it will be good for you to learn to control your anger without the temptation."

Wanda pursed her lips as tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks. Her chin dropped and she appeared to be lost in thought a moment. Steve and Clint exchanged a look. They had a lot to discuss. Things needed to change. If they were to stay in Wakanda for an extended time, which it looked like they were, they needed to come up with a plan. They needed to establish a new normal for them. For Wanda, that meant working on completing high school, but Steve wasn't sure what that looked like for him and Clint. They couldn't continue sitting around in limbo. They needed a purpose and a reason to get up in the morning. They needed a plan.