Sorry about the long wait; this has been a really busy time for me. But anyway-here's the next chapter (finally)!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Enjoy!

"Hold still."

Wanda sighed and tried to keep her patience while a nurse bandaged her arm. She'd gotten a deep gash in it during the explosion-she hadn't even noticed it until the other members of the team had forced her and Pietro to sit through full medical examinations. "I'm fine."

Not true, of course. She didn't think she'd ever be all right again-at least not for a long time. But there was nothing else wrong with her physically, aside from a few scrapes she couldn't remember sustaining that would heal with time.

"Just a moment." The nurse assigned to her case pulled tightly, pressing the bandage into her skin so hard that it seemed to cut off all of her circulation. "There you go. You're free to leave."

Wanda barely managed to mutter a halfhearted thank you as she headed for her room. She wanted time alone-time to think. And she hadn't managed to get any of that in the eighteen or so hours since the explosion.

She passed Pietro in the hallway. He seemed to want to talk to her, but she ignored him. He wouldn't understand-and besides, she didn't really want to talk to him at the moment. She knew it was ridiculous, but she blamed him for what happened at the theatre almost as much as she blamed herself. They should have been on guard. They should have been ready.

The upstairs was quieter. There were fewer people-and fewer stares. She locked herself in her bedroom, tracing patterns into her quilt with the tip of her finger. She was lying to everyone, even herself-and it was getting hard to keep everything straight.

Work backwards. Pietro had tried to push too far too fast. Of course, it hadn't been his fault. None of it was. How could he know how she'd react? She knew he couldn't, but she'd been so on edge that night that it had taken everything she had in her just to get out of the car and into the base before her magic exploded.

Just then there was a knock on her bedroom door, startling her out of her thoughts. It was Steve, and for the first time she could remember he was the last person she wanted to see. Thankfully, he didn't press. "How are you?" he asked, standing by the window so he could look out at the blue morning sky.

"I've been better. Do they have a final count on casualties?"

"Not yet. Some people are still missing…it might take three days or more to clear all the debris away. Wanda, you can't hold yourself responsible for this."

"Yes I can. It was my fault."

"No it wasn't."

"If we hadn't been there, HYDRA would have no reason to target that theatre. All those people would still be alive. Sure, Pietro and I didn't feel the blood on our hands, but we killed those people. If it wasn't for us, families wouldn't be grieving the loss of loved ones."

"Something like this would have happened sooner or later. We knew HYDRA was on the move. We should have been ready but we weren't. It's not anyone's fault. It just happened. Don't torture yourself and pretend that you could have done anything differently. This time we were too late to prevent casualties-next time, we won't be. We'll train as hard as we can and get eyes and ears all over the place. Should this happen again…HYDRA won't win."

"But what about all the people we lost last night?"

"I wish there was a way we could save them, but we can't. Something you realize pretty quickly when you become a superhero is that it's simply not possible to save everyone. Sometimes…you just have to move on. Not forget…not even forgive. But if you let the doubts control you, they'll tear you apart."

Wanda had nothing to say to that, fingering a tassel hanging from one of her pillows and passing it from hand to hand. Steve meant well and it was nice to know that she wasn't blamed by anyone else…but she wanted to do more.

She wanted vengeance.

"Good talk." Steve said after a few minutes of silence. "I have a meeting with some SHIELD officials in one of the conference rooms if you need anything." He left and Wanda was on her own again, the way she was most accustomed to.

~V102~

Dinner was a mostly silent affair. She avoided Pietro at all costs and left the table as soon as she could.

After about an hour of trying and failing to read her book, she heard a light knock on her bedroom door. Natasha stood in the hallway wearing a new leather jacket. "Come on." She walked down the hallway toward the rest of the base.

Wanda followed obediently. "Where are we going?"

"The training center. It should be empty at this time of night."

Curious, Wanda watched as she opened the quiet studio and stepped inside, closing the door behind them softly. A dim yellow light made pools on the smooth black tile floor as Natasha indicated a few targets and a wall of knives of various sizes and colors. "After a particularly hard mission, I always find that a little training does wonders to release tension." She handed her a small metal key. "Lock up when you're done."

"Wait-"

"Trust me. It'll help." With that, the Black Widow left-if Wanda remembered correctly, it was her turn to wash the dishes-and she had the training space all to herself.

She carefully selected a dagger lined in red. It looked particularly sharp; light glittered off its tip in the dim light. She took a moment to focus and align herself with the target before she let the knife fly. She watched it turn on itself, over and over as it flew through the air and bypassed the target completely, clattering off the stainless steel wall. Undeterred, Wanda picked it up again. She loved the way it rested in her hands-not too heavy, but light enough to inflict real damage. It made her feel powerful.

She threw again and again. Nine times out of every ten, her knives didn't even make it close to the target but she didn't mind. The whole exercise gave her something to think about besides the screams of theatregoers being crushed alive and moonlight glistening off the pale flesh of the dead. The sound of the knife as it took flight was like music to her, sweet and clear.

It was past eleven thirty when she finally locked up for the night. Natasha had been right-she did feel better. Not totally, but it was an improvement.

She took the knife with her just in case.

Wanda thought it would take hours for sleep to find her, the way it always did. It had never come easily, even before the accident-half remembered memories intermingled with nightmares; most nights she awoke breathless, sweaty, and tangled in her sheets. Sometimes Pietro was there to calm her down-he seemed to have a sixth sense for these kind of things-but more often she had to pace for hours before her heart rate returned to normal. However, sleep came without provocation for once-and with it blissful unconsciousness.

~V102~

The base was nearly deserted the next morning. Steve and Pietro had both gone on jogs-Steve in the country while Pietro preferred a run in the city, where he could easily bypass all the traffic that was typical of New York City on a Monday morning. Sam and James were playing video games and Natasha had locked herself in the training room to 'find herself', in her own words. That left Vision.

Wanda didn't know much about the android. From what she'd managed to piece together, he'd been sent to find her at the end of the battle when it had become clear that the city would have to be vaporized. He hadn't found her-at least, not in time. They didn't have occasion to talk much; she figured this was as good a time as any to change that.

"Hello." she said, pulling up a chair next to where he sat at the breakfast table poring over a newspaper.

He seemed slightly startled to see her, but he was still very courteous. "Good morning, Miss Maximoff. I trust you had a nice night?"

"It was better than most. What about you?" Vision didn't seem to need sleep, perhaps because he was a machine. Usually he seemed to wander the base reading anything the other members of the team had left lying around and watching television. He had a lot to catch up on when it came to being human.

"I watched a very interesting television show called The Walking Dead. Are you familiar with it?"

"No, but I think Sam and Rhodey watch it." She hadn't had time in the last few days to watch much of anything. "How do you like the base?"

"It's very secluded-a good place for the base of operations for an elite superhero team."

"I'll say." Yet Wanda still wondered if they were truly safe here. HYDRA was still out there…it was only a matter of time until they caught up again.

But SHIELD would see them coming. They had to.

"Why are you avoiding your brother? He seems quite upset about it."

Absentmindedly, Wanda fingered the scar that ran up her back-red and deep. It still oozed blood if she pressed down too hard. It wasn't the only one, nor was it the worst. Some of the scars seemed only a few weeks old while others predated them by years. They were souvenirs from nightmares she could only half remember in dreams of pain and blood.

And injections. There were lots and lots of injections.

"It's complicated." she replied, pouring herself a cup of black coffee. He wants to understand, but I don't want him to.

Vision seemed to get it-or at least he didn't pry further. "He wants what he feels will be best for you."

"Yes, but does he really know what that is?" Considering Wanda didn't even know what she wanted for herself, she would be willing to bet good money that Pietro didn't either. "I don't know what I want anymore." And what she did want was impossible-she wanted to go back to how things were before, where it had been just her and Pietro and they'd known each other better than anyone else. They didn't need anyone else-it was just the two of them against the world. "I'm going to take a walk."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

She was almost tempted. "I think I'll be fine for twenty minutes or so." She pulled on a jacket against the early morning chill and stepped outside. A light breeze ruffled her hair and a bird sang nearby but otherwise she was alone.

She set off, wandering aimlessly and trying not to think. Whenever she thought about things too carefully she either got a headache, lost control of her magic, or both. Sometimes it was better to just pretend she was floating and untouchable.

Increase the dosage. The results aren't matching up.

She shook her head to clear it. No. She wouldn't think about that. What was past was past. It couldn't haunt her if she didn't allow it to.

That night, Steve suggested a movie night. Of course, no one argued about the chance to get free popcorn-especially because the Avengers had managed to amass a collection of almost every movie known to mankind and they had plenty to choose from.

"I vote the twins pick out a movie." Sam said once they'd been debating for twenty minutes and made absolutely zero headway.

"No, I don't think that's such a good-" Pietro was interrupted by a clamor of support for Sam from all the other Avengers. After that they didn't have much of a choice-the base was run like a democracy most of the time and there was a clear indication of popular opinion. So, reluctantly Wanda followed her brother into the movie closet.

The walk in closet was filled wall to wall with Blurays and DVDs-most of which Wanda had never heard of before. Sokovia only got the top blockbuster movies-if they were lucky. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to see a movie in the theatre-or the last time she'd seen a movie period. "What do you think?"

"I don't know." Pietro grabbed a case off the shelf at random. "Have you even heard of Fifty Shades of Grey anyway?"

She examined the case and put it back. "No."

"I never said-"

"I hope you weren't thinking it either. Did we ever see Lord of the Rings?"

"I don't think so. Let's just make this a lot simpler and take it." Pietro grabbed the case but didn't make any move to step outside. "You know, we have to talk about this at some point. You can't avoid me forever. Sure, the base is big but it's not that big."

"I'm not avoiding you." Total lie of course, but what was she supposed to say?

"Then what are you doing? I'm not an idiot. You think I can't tell when you leave a room just because I come in? Believe me, I know what's going on. I just want to know why. What did I do to upset you?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Stop prying."

"You don't even have to tell me everything if you're not comfortable with it. I just want to help-"
"If you really want to help me, let me keep my secrets."

"Believe me, keeping it all locked away inside yourself won't do any good. I've tried. I've tried to keep things in and pretend they aren't bothering me-but they always, always, always find a way to escape. Somehow, some way, your demons always manage to bring you down when you least expect it. If you don't want me to press, that's fine. I won't. But stop pushing me away. Stop pushing us all away. We can't be a team if we don't act like it-"

"Who says I even want to be an Avenger? I don't have anywhere else to go or anyone else to turn to. I never committed-and now I'm wondering if I should just leave before someone else gets hurt."

Pietro sighed. "Don't do that. Fine. Be that way. But I just want you to know that you have a family here, whether you realize it or not. A family that cares about you. I didn't believe it at first, but it's true. They've proved it to me time and time again. They're good people, and we can trust them." He held the movie like some people might hold a bomb. "I remember when we used to tell each other everything. We didn't have any secrets. We told each other all of our dreams, fears, memories…there wasn't this wall between us that I don't know how to break. I want to break it, but I don't know how."

"Neither do I. But maybe we can try." Maybe she could try for his sake, if nothing else.

Wanda gently probed the edges of her mind as she gingerly took a seat next to Steve. She knew she hadn't been good company that morning.

She sifted through all the familiar memories at first-there were only a few of them, far fewer than there should be, but she had them-and that was the main thing. Carefully, she probed at her mental 'wall', for lack of a better term. She could feel it shift but it wouldn't give. It remained stubborn; she hated it. Fine. Be that way. She pushed harder, until her head began to hurt and she grimaced against the sudden pain of a migraine.

"Are you all right?" Steve asked as he passed her the popcorn bowl.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She ground the heel of her hand into her forehead and willed the pain to go away. It was clear she would make no more progress that night. Instead she settled back to watch the movie, grabbing a handful of popcorn almost absentmindedly. Despite what she'd told Pietro, it was nice to feel wanted-even if her team happened to be the Avengers.

At least it was better than being alone.

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