Wanda lay awake for hours afterward, tears silently tracing their way down her face. She did not allow herself to make any noise. She closed her eyes, her body shaking slightly as she cried silently. She was alone again. The person she trusted completely had left her.
She lied like that for a long time before she settled into an uneasy sleep.
Explosions rang out around her. She could feel the heat searing her, and there was no one to save her from the next explosion. It was a massive inferno, and the fire had nearly reached her before she disappeared. She was somewhere else. She was standing beside Pietro, and he smiled at her, such a sad, heartbroken smile, before he dropped to his knees, bullets littering his body. She screamed and tried to grab him, to prop him up and help, to save him, but something was dragging her away from him. Ultron. He dragged her to the train and she stood above his broken body before tearing the heart from his chest. She looked at the metal heart in her hand before looking at Ultro- No. No. It was not Ultron anymore. Vision looked at her, a broken doll with a hole in his chest. She killed him. She killed him. She killed everyone she cared about. She was suddenly in an empty street. They were in a circle around her, all the dead. Her parents, covered in burns. Her brother, full of bullets. Vision, a hole in his chest. The rest of the team, with an array of wounds. All those she had learned to care for, Sam and Natasha and Steve and Rhody. All looking at her with that terrible sadness. You could have saved us, they seemed to whisper. You let us die. All your fault. All your fau-
"NO!"
Wanda's scream resounded through her room, punctuated by the sound of shattering glass. The window perpendicular to her bed shattered, as did the floor-length mirror near the closet.
She stared around frantically, searching for the phantoms that had just been so close. She was panting, deep frantic breaths, and her vision was blurred with tears. She begun to calm down, though tears still ran down her face.
Suddenly her door burst open. In the doorway was Vision, to hold and comfort her, to kiss her gently and let her know it would be alright.
Except it wasn't him. Her broken heart had taken the silhouette of Sam Wilson and turned it into the Vision, and she turned away, unwilling to let him see her tears.
"Wanda, are you okay?" He asked, looking around the room urgently, as if there was an intruder.
She nodded, wiping the tears from her face. "I'm fine." The lie stuck in her throat, but she pushed herself off the bed. "I should clean this up."
Sam walked in slowly, pity on his face. "Would you like some help?" he asked, heading for the shattered window.
She nearly shook her head, turned him away, but he had been kind, and had offered help. She nodded slowly, walked to the window to help him.
They picked up the larger chunks of glass, working steadily. Suddenly, her hand slipped and she sliced it on a jagged shard.
She yelped and dropped it, sucking on her bloody thumb. Sam's eyes widened and he stood. "I'll be right back. He jogged out of the room, disappearing for a minute. When he returned, he was holding a small metal box in his hands. He put it next to her and opened it. It was a first aid kit.
Sam gently took her hand and examined it closely. He put it on his knee as he sifted through the box. He finally pulled out a packet of antiseptic and some gauze. He quickly cleaned and dressed her wound. She smiled very slightly as he finished, and dipped her head in thanks. He nodded, and released her hand to continue working.
They finished with the window and moved to the mirror.
His voice was quiet as he broke the silence. "What happened?"
His voice had been quiet, but hers was a whisper. "I had a nightmare." She tried to close her eyes, but when she did, she saw Sam as he had been in her dream, riddled with bullets as Pietro had been. She flinched and opened her eyes.
They finished cleaning in silence. Once they were done, Sam looked at her. "Where's Vision? He should be able to cheer you up."
Wanda turned away. Sam got the meaning immediately.
"Oh. Oh man, I'm sorry," he said, and he patted her shoulder. The slightly awkward gesture was strangely comforting, and once more, she was reminded of Pietro.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head very slightly, and Sam nodded. He got up to leave.
"Wait." Her voice was shaking very slightly. "I would like to talk."
He nodded and sat down at the edge of her bed, and she sat next to him.
"We went out to dinner the other day," she began. "As we were leaving, we heard a robbery and we went to go help. After we did, we were confronted by reporters. They asked… horrible questions... Vision flew away with me, but when we got back, he did not comfort me as he would have. He spoke to me later, and told me we could not be together, that I deserved a man rather than a machine. I have not seen him since."
Sam looked at her with the same sympathy as he always did, the same sympathy that was often in his gaze as he looked at the wounded, angry young woman beside him.
"I think he was just hurting. He didn't want you to be hurt to, so he tried to push you away."
"He told me that I did not love him, that I was simply being a fool. That one day I would see." Her voice was bitter and jagged. She hated the weakness that came with caring about him.
"I don't know what to tell you. I know he cares about you, otherwise he wouldn't have pushed you away like he did. I think you just need to give him time. He'll come around."
She nodded, but the advice still felt hollow. She smiled slightly and he stood.
"I should go. But Wanda. If you're hurting, remember that it helps to talk about it."
She nodded as he left. She closed the door and then stood in her dark room, feeling strangely empty. She headed for her open window and stuck her head out. The world still went on, even if her own felt broken.
She was about to return to her room when she happened to glance down. In the dirt below her window, there was a flower growing. A red tulip-like flower was growing there, looking remarkably like the one Vision had given her. Slowly, a genuine, happy smile emerged. A warm glow filled her, though she wasn't sure why.
