Wanda was violently slammed down by her opponent, her face twisting with fierce pain as it came into direct contact with the ground harshly and bright red blood rapidly spurted out of her nose. The pain she experienced spiked and left her momentarily blind, and she tried unsuccessfully to clear her head enough to get back into the fight.
She had foolishly been attempting a kick that had proved invaluable against numerous opponents before, however it was unfortunately clear that none of them rivaled the fighting prowess of the infamous Black Widow. Her foot had been caught in midair, her propulsion used against her to swing her unforgivingly into the ground, her ankle being twisted in the motion and her nose possibly broken. Not to mention her arms that had attempted to break her fall, crushed beneath the weight of her body, folding awkwardly underneath, her ribs protesting the feeling.
Wanda let out a groan as she considered all her injuries and the uncomfortable amount of discomfort and severe aching she would feel until she was restored back to full health. The ubiquitous rumors regarding the physical capabilities of her scarlet-haired opponent were regrettably not over exaggerated and Wanda dreaded their sparring sessions with an unparalleled passion.
"Get up," Natasha Romanov ordered tonelessly, eyeing her fallen comrade critically, assessing how much longer the one-sided fight would last and how much more her partner—victim—could take. Wanda would not be given an opportunity to recuperate from her injuries, as in a real life situation there was every possibility that she would have to fight through similar grievances.
Wanda's debilitated arm trembled as she forced it to push herself up, unwilling to yield so soon into her training session. She was relentlessly determined to become the best fighter she could be in order to ensure that she would be allowed to complete field missions on her own. It would provide the unique opportunity to travel around the world and gain information.
She stood, slightly slumped with her ankle protesting every movement she made with a sharp stab of pain ricocheting throughout her leg adding to other various protesting body parts. Black Widow was circling her prey, looking for another opening to end the fight. Wanda had no doubt that there were endless opportunities at the moment—she could barely stand and she was in agony—but perhaps it was an attempt to teach her which areas to especially take care of if she ever were this damaged in front of an assailant.
Wanda, instead of joining Black Widow in the circling, turned slowly taking adequate precautions to ensure she was always facing her sparring instructor and protected her back as best she could. Her arms were up, one hovering protectively in front of her damaged face, still bleeding profusely and the other in front of her chest.
The warm, sticky blood felt utterly revolting as it slid down her face and onto her clothes, before continuing downward and making a profuse puddle on the floor. There was nothing available at the moment to aid in stemming the unending flow and Wanda opted to ignore the blood and focus as best she could on the fight.
Natasha launched her next attack swiftly as she pressed forward to strike at Wanda's face, knocking her hand aside to leave her open for Natasha's other arm to swing forward and deliver a blow to Wanda's face. The blow landed squarely on her cheek and Wanda's head was painfully shoved to the side as she was forced to take a few staggering steps back. Snapping back into place, Wanda quickly lashed back in retribution, her blue eyes blazing with fury and the promise of payback. The blow was clumsily and easily blocked, but the overflow of anger had provided the witch with sufficient adrenaline to continue the assault.
Wanda brought her knee upwards to slam into Romanov—she happily found it was not blocked in time—whose force brought Natasha to lean forwards, granting another opportunity for a facial assault.
Wanda tried to continue the moment with an uppercut to Natasha's jaw that landed mercilessly, but that was as far as luck and adrenaline pushed her. The superior fighter recovered rapidly, deflecting any further blows and began her retaliation with a brutal kick that slammed into Wanda's arm and upper body that pushed her back and into a kneeling position.
As Wanda rose again, the kick was followed by several strikes to her sides and abdomen that weren't all blocked successfully. Wanda's abdomen was in agony and after another swift kick landed viciously knocking her on her back, the back of her head slamming down onto the floor, Wanda gave into the fierce urge to quit.
"I yield," she got out as she curled into a ball on the floor, every inch of her body screaming in pain and soreness. As always the defeat brought tears to her eyes that had to be forced down. Her nose wasn't bleeding as bad as it had before, though it was still enough to make her feel discomfort. There was blood on her lips that managed to enter her mouth, her taste buds taking in the tangy iron flavor that made her want to retch.
Natasha went to the edge of the room that was purposely stocked with first aid items and retrieved two small towels, gauze, rubbing alcohol and some wrapping. She then strode back to her fallen student and began attending to her developing wounds. She handed the younger woman the towel for her nose and coaxed her into a sitting position.
The rubbing alcohol was poured onto some gauze and used to clean smaller wounds where the first layer of skin had been broken. Then a second towel was used to clean the area of the alcohol and blood, leaving angry looking scratches that were still bright red. Then she used the wrapping on Wanda's ankle, making sure that it would be supported properly for the walk back to her room and into a shower.
The two were quiet and neither one spoke other than when absolutely necessary. There were no words of praise for the progress that Wanda had made in recent spars, inevitably causing her to question whether she had advanced enough or if her improvement was disappointing. There was also no other real discussion of the spar, forcing Wanda to wonder how she could enhance her fighting abilities or hasten her advancement.
Despite the natural curiosity about her progress, Wanda was quite happy about the distance that existed between the two women. It was wonderfully freeing to know that there was someone who likely didn't care much for her, who wouldn't feel urged to ask her about her feelings or push her into an unwanted relationship. Wanda had moved to the West Coast with Hawkeye, Black Widow, Sam Wilson and several other recruits that Wanda hadn't bothered to know the names of. War Machine had been reassigned for some work in the D.C. area and Vision stayed in New York.
Wanda was over the moon ecstatic that the only reminders of Iron Man would be staying far away from her for the time being. After she was patched up as best as she could be with the supplies on hand, Natasha pulled Wanda up and the two began to make their way back to their own respective destinations. Wanda was headed to her room to shower and then to the health bay to see what she could do to get herself healed faster while Natasha was on her way to a briefing with the Captain and several other top SHIELD agents.
"Maximoff," the word shocked Wanda into stopping slightly before continuing forwards, glancing over at her companion and meeting her gaze with a questionable one of her own. "You need to get yourself cleared. Just go and get your evaluation done. You're of no use to SHIELD if you can't go out and do field missions."
Anger flared red hot within Wanda and annoyance nearly had her snapping back. She quickly bit down hard on her tongue, making her wince with exasperation owing to the fact that she now had another injury to add to the already extensive list, fortunately stopping herself from acting too rashly. Instead of responding verbally, Wanda gave a short nod, taking extreme care to keep her still-hurting face as clear as possible before turning away completely and walking as fast as she was currently able to her room.
It was as close to a dismissal as Wanda would dare to give to the other woman. There was no point in unnecessarily angering her training instructor since to do so would no doubt mean extraordinary pain and painful bloodshed in the future.
Wanda knew that she needed to get cleared and despite all her progress physically, she was still not comfortable with the idea of sharing her personal thoughts and emotions with a complete stranger. No matter the motivating, the more information someone had about you, the easier it became to defeat you. That much was common sense. There was no logic in sharing things about herself that she never would have with anyone but Pietro. He was the only one who she had faith in and that would never change.
Additionally, Wanda also knew the main drive of her evaluation was her mental health after the death of her twin. She would be expected to share the raw, painful feelings she had experienced and continued living with regarding her brother's murder that she would never confide to anyone. Pietro had been everything in her life and she knew that it wasn't a healthy way to live, being so dependent and wrapped around one person. But the difference was that the person was Pietro, her twin, protector, and for Wanda there was nothing wrong with living out her life that way. She would not attempt to lie to others and minimize his value in their eyes for the sake of some field missions. Absolutely nothing was worth that.
The few meetings she had already had with her psychiatrist had proved uneventful and an utter waste of time for both their parts. She had sensed frustration from the doctor and she knew that he was trying his best to reach out to her in any way he could. But Wanda would not relent nor would she meet anyone halfway on this. If they could not accept that the subject of Pietro was something to be never discussed then she would have a problem. The fact that they pushed so relentlessly and thoughtlessly into the matter had come to irritate Wanda.
She had constant reminders from so many other members, superior officers, and training instructors to discuss the topic and to get herself cleared for active field duty. Each time it was mentioned, her temper was triggered and the incredible patience and control she was renown for over her emotions became strained. There would only be so much she could take before she would snap and Wanda would be damned before anyone in SHIELD ever saw her lose control.
Her thoughts were interrupted as a strong firm hand reached out and yanked her to a surprising standstill and Wanda whirled around quickly in absolute fury, her blood crusted black hair flicking behind her in a quick swirl that almost hit the other woman's face.
"Get it done, Maximoff," fierce blue eyes met stormy blue and two glared at each other.
"Unhand me, now," Wanda ordered, her voice low and wavering with fury as her control over her anger waned with each second that the other woman dared to hold on to her. If she didn't let go in the next second, then Wanda would gladly demonstrate the full extent of her powers. It wouldn't take much to get rid of this irksome pest, all it would take was a little magic and the puny Black Widow would meet Raid.
Snap out it! She told herself firmly. The dark feelings that been deliciously swirling around in her head about how to ensure that this woman would never touch her again disappeared and Wanda reigned her anger in with incredible difficulty.
Natasha unhanded Wanda, eyeing her warily and Wanda wondered if the woman knew how close Wanda was to losing control over her anger. In an organized spar, Wanda was able to remain in complete control considering everything that was occurring was expected. She expected the hits, the knockdowns and the pain. Her anger was always focused on the fight and never lasted past the spar. This anger on the other hand was festering beneath her skin, dark and all too eager to burst out at the slightest provocation. In the past few weeks, it had grown larger and grew harder and harder to control.
But Wanda was the Scarlet Witch, the calm, rational one who balanced Pietro's temper. Her rational side understood the anger and was always able to rein it in, to contain it and put it to productive use.
Was this a test? Was SHIELD concerned about her ability to restrain herself in a tense situation? Wanda questioned the motives behind the unexpected interference and she rubbed the area where she had been grabbed softly.
"I'll get it done," Wanda ground out, scowling deeply. "Anything else?" She asked, an edge to her voice that Wanda cursed, knowing that her anger was seeping out and displaying weakness. Calm down, she told herself, just continue breathing and calm down.
After enduring another moment of Natasha's strangely impassioned questioning gaze, Wanda was ready to try leaving once again.
"Calling Agent Romanov to the main briefing room," a male agent's voice echoed throughout the hallway, cheering Wanda up slightly that the undesired confrontation had come to an end. So much for distance, she thought sarcastically as she kept up her watch on Agent Romanov. Breaking the gaze finally, the Black Widow moved away quickly, her strides confident and unshaken.
It was a source of annoyance for Wanda that there was so little emotion displayed by Romanov, whereas she had nearly lost her temper twice! She walked slowly to her room, her ankle still aching with every step that she took. If it were even possible, Wanda felt even worse than before, as though she had lost some support she hadn't realized she was relying on.
Control your temper, she mentally chided herself and for the first time considered how little in control she actually felt at the moment. Her temper had always been fierce as she was an incredibly passionate person but it had been so easy to channel it to more productive outlets. Now, it threatened to leak out at inopportune moments and to people that Wanda still had no faith in.
As much as she believed in the cause, weeks of being locked in with nothing but more training sessions and counseling sessions had been driving her mad and she was filled with the desire to get out and away for an afternoon. SHIELD was just as much a cage as HYDRA was Wanda had been unhappy to discover, without all the evil scheming and outward appearance.
Wanda reached her room and went directly to take a shower, the warm water easily soothing the soreness from her muscles and coaxing her into a relaxed state. Her mind began to drift off, and began seeking out familiar sparks of the world. This ability had always confused her, being able to distinguish the minds of others, but it aided her ability to manipulate realities, an incredible tool to wield.
Perhaps it was disturbing to others, an invasion of privacy or a creepy undeveloped mental ability but it brought comfort to Wanda. In this state there was peace; there was no division or hate, just the minds of the world swimming contently around and wonderfully alive.
Fzzt! A connection made shocked Wanda back to her shower, her heart racing with happiness, adrenaline, excitement, joy, anticipation; she experienced an entire assortment of emotions. What was that? Something out there had enough power to reach out to her in the alternate world and managed to connect with her. Whatever it was, it was immensely powerful and Wanda felt incredibly drawn to the power.
Eagerly she closed her eyes and attempted to return to the sparks, seeking out the one that had made contact. Unfortunately, as Wanda was searching she found something quite different, ancient, powerful. It reached out to Wanda and the moment they connected, Wanda experienced a piercing burning sensation in her mind. She collapsed onto the floor, the warm water still pouring over her.
What…was…that? She wondered before completely fading to black.
Natasha was worried. She was always worried about something; there was always so much to contemplate. There was an innumerable amount of corrupt and immoral people out in the world who had the capacity, the means and the desire to do harm. The world was a dark place and she had more enemies than allies, trusted few and knew without a doubt that even the few she did trust couldn't save her.
Bruce chose to disappear which stung because there was a moment where she believed that she had found one final opportunity for happiness. Two monsters deluded themselves into believing that they deserved the sliver of happiness they had felt together. Reality crashed into her when she saw that he was just like all the others who came before him.
Regardless of their romantic history, Romanov was worried about him for a completely different reason. The Hulk had been seen at his absolute worst, in the midst of a destructive craze that razed buildings and was about as controllable as a hurricane. The disaster he had left in his wake had to be answered for. People died, were injured, millions of dollars of damage done to the city, not to mention the people's psyche, and they were witnesses to the horror that was the green, ravenous monster that lied partially dormant within one of the world's most brilliant scientists. Even his intelligence couldn't save him now. Demands were made for his capture and for justice in the name of all the victims of that day.
Scarlet Witch. She was a nuisance to be wary of and the real person to blame. The girl was capable of good, Natasha witnessed her devotion for her people, but she was also incredibly naïve and she lacked restraint. The girl didn't consider the consequences to her actions; she didn't plan things out effectively or contemplate all the people that could be affected by her decisions.
The attack on the Avengers to gain time had been incredibly effective, Natasha recalled with severe annoyance. It had also caused massive uproar as Bruce lost control, which was no doubt the witch's intentions, and the Hulk had laid siege to a city full of innocent people—likely not planned. It was incomprehensible, how in the interest of the greater good, it was all right to force the man containing a beast to unleash his dark side so near civilization. There had been no restraint shown; only extremes that had driven one man to live his worst nightmare.
Into the wind, Bruce had hidden himself very well and Natasha had yet to hear anything about his whereabouts. Even worse, she had to help train the person that was the reason why her friend was in the wind. As the Black Widow, Natasha was all about owning up to your actions, understanding the depths of your mistakes and making up for them.
There was no forgiveness, no redemption or salvation, but there was repentance. Remorse for past cruelty and the desire to better and improve were impressive qualities that could motivate someone into doing 'good'. The Scarlet Witch had demonstrated several of these characteristics; she was driven, passionate about helping others, however she continued to waste valuable time when she could be out there in the world actually assisting others. Instead, Wanda remained a mopey little girl who was angry and failed to make up for all the damage she had caused both to the Avengers and to the world.
There were things Natasha could understand, her hatred of Tony Stark one of them—she too occasionally suffered through similar feelings—and the pain of losing loved ones. Natasha had lost so many people in her life that she felt as though she was numb to the possibility of losing more. But the girl couldn't even pretend to get through a pesky psychological evaluation that would deem her fit for service. It was increasingly frustrating and frequently made Natasha want to rattle the girl. How hard could it be to just suck it up and tell people what they wanted to hear!
Fortunately, Natasha had plenty of experience backing her, which made it possible for her to do her duty first. She was able to work with people whom she harbored dislike and even loathing towards, if it meant saving a life.
Moreover, Natasha had other problems to resolve. There were random attacks occurring throughout the world and it was clear that this was either HYDRA or something bigger to worry about. The scowl returned to her face as she considered how far out of their depths they were in this case. Absolutely no survivors, nothing to indicate any clues about the villains' origins or their goals.
With no way to predict where they would strike next, SHIELD was left to react to the destruction sites, not prevent them as they would have liked. She and many others had perused through every resource they could think of to tie these attacks back to someone and give them a clue as to how to proceed. Nothing had turned up. HYDRA was normally more forthcoming, which made things extraordinarily worrisome.
Next on the list of things to worry about was her stalker. One of the major contributors to her move to this new base was to try and lose the shadow that she had somehow gained somewhere in between saving the world from Ultron and helping set up a new Avengers' base. She had noticed a strange man multiple times in various different cities while on field missions. Much to her frustration, she had yet to capture him, as he was very elusive.
Natasha arrived at the main briefing room where she was surprised to find another old acquaintance.
"Nat!" A petite teenager cried out as she smiled back at her, her startling pink and black hair coming in second as the most noticeable thing about her. The foremost noticeable thing about the teenager before her were enormous, multicolored wings that extended behind her, which fluttered quickly before they returned to their original folded position. The girl wore a standard X-men uniform consisting of black and yellow with the traditional belt and center red X around her hips. She had a large grin on her face, beaming up at her, black eyes lighting up with happiness.
"Megan, it's been a while," Natasha responded smiling back at her. Pixie pouted at her before bounding towards Natasha and enveloping her in a big hug.
"I missed you!" Megan cried as Natasha returned her embrace with a fond smile.
"What brings you here?" Natasha asked as the two separated. Megan smiled even wider as she twirled around and practically danced back to her seat.
"Your newest member, the Scarlet Witch! Captain America reached out to our group considering we have similar abilities hoping that we would be able to teach her more about how to use her abilities and gain proper control over them before they become a risk to herself or anyone else," Megan continued. "I'm here to discuss what times would work best and when I can meet her."
Megan's upbeat energy was contagious but her words brought more worries to Natasha's mind. Did they really need the newest recruit of the team, someone who had literally been messing with their minds months earlier to become even stronger?
"All right then, since it's all been settled, I'm going to go look for the Scarlet Witch," Megan exclaimed excitedly, as she gathered all the documents that she had brought with her and with another quick hug to Hawkeye and Black Widow, bounced out the door. Natasha watched her leave, a small indulgent smile gracing her face before she once again settled for a neutral expression.
"Agent Romanov," another voice captured her attention to the compound's head research scientist and one of the leaders of the compound Dr. Henry Pym, known as Hank to many of his associates, and to Hawkeye, the other leader. There were several images pulled up on the center screen of deceased people who had two similar traits—apart from that they were very dissimilar—they were all executed.
It was a precise shot to the center of the head but what sent chills downs Natasha's body was the colors their face were painted. Their faces were smeared with red paint with an even deeper red star in the center stretching over their noses and into their face. It was an unforgettable symbol for her and these kills were clearly attempting to send her a message.
"We thought that you would recognize these markings, can you think of anyone who might be ordering these hits?" Natasha shook her head and the three began to discuss as they described where the men had been found. Many of them were found in abandoned or remote areas, where it was easy to dispose of a body unnoticed if it were planned appropriately, however one of the bodies had been dumped near the compound. Its intended purpose was clear: to notify the Avengers of the killings and to point out that they were the intended recipients of whatever message they were trying to get across.
"We have ordered stricter patrols around the compound but we would like to task you to track these people down. They have targeted you for a reason and we think that you would have the best chance of deciphering their message." Barton was scanning her earnestly, his serious expression lacking the good humor and warmth it normally contained.
"I can do it," Natasha replied confidently, her blank expression expressing none of the unease that came with seeing those symbols. It was unsettling, however she was not afraid and she would ensure to put down the person who thought it was a good idea to anger the Black Widow.
The three sat down and began to discuss possible tactics.
This would be their biggest hit yet. They had already visited several other major cities but this area was protected. New York City contained an innumerable amount of superheroes that had anchored themselves to the city and claimed it as their home. What better way to send a message to the world than to defeat their protectors on their own turf?
They walked her down the ramp of the airplane, taking special to ensure that she was as restricted as always. She wore a white coat reminiscent of a straightjacket, developed specifically to limit her abilities. Without them she was just another human—although she was also well trained—easily subdued with the right number of men possessing adequate skill.
Subject 158 was rather intelligent and she knew that whatever she had signed on to do, this was not it. Forced into submission, pumped full of chemicals and drugs that made her life a living agony, she could not recall times of a better life. She obeyed without question because there were moments where she forgot the pain and the agony and she just lived. I
n those moments, everything made sense and she experienced a high unlike anything else. It was in those beautifully exquisite moments where she finally unleashed the true nature of humanity, made them see what they were really like. She could make them understand her in a way that they would normally deny, lies upon lies fed to them until they forgot their true nature.
"You will approach this building," Her superior pointed out a building on the map labeled Stark Industries. When you are approximately two blocks east, on these two streets you will begin your assault. You will have two hours to enjoy your moment." All other details had already been covered, this was just a standard procedure: to remind her—as if she needed reminding—of what her task was and how long she could enjoy the moment before submitting.
There was a reason for submitting but Subject 158 was too tired to trying to recall what it was. There was always pain when she remembered and it was emotionally draining to remember all the details of her past. This was better.
The men gave her a lift approaching the city, taking off her coat and liberating her from her confines. Immediately she began to feel an uncomfortable pressure that existed within her chest, an agony that she had recalled before each high. This unending pain existed because people could not see the way she could and that made her feel depraved expressed through an aching in her chest. She wanted them to understand.
They set her down about three blocks from where she needed to be and she quickly made her way over, the ache in her chest worsening with each second it was contained.
Just a little bit further, she thought as she neared the area. Finally once she arrived, she was ecstatic that she would be able to release herself from the pain and liberate herself and all those around her.
She let it go, unleashing her toxins in the air for everyone around her to take in, inhaling their sweetness, feeling them caress their skin. She began with fear—it was one of the easiest emotions to trigger—before transitioning to anything else. After fear, it became child's play to manipulate the people into feeling what she wanted, what she felt.
It was the only way they would understand; they had to experience it for themselves.
After the fear came the anger. It quickly washed over all the people who had either frozen with fear or who had chosen to run away but weren't fast enough to escape. Finally they were experiencing true reality.
The destruction began anew and she began to laugh joyously once more.