Hey guys-or anyone who's still reading this. So, I know it's been a super long time since I updated this story. I guess the only excuse I have is that I got super busy-especially once school started again. I just had a lot going on and a lot of other stories I was writing and somehow this story got shoved to the side.
I really want to finish it-especially because it will eventually go through Civil War and it would be nice to have it all wrapped up by the time the new movie comes out. That's the goal. We'll see. Anyway, here's the first new chapter in a (very) long time.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
Enjoy!
The days at the Avengers base began to settle into a sort of familiarity. There was training in the morning and free time in the afternoon for the team's members to do whatever it was they did all day before dinner and team building exercises in the evenings. There was always something to do and someone to meet. Wanda was never bored. She just didn't have the time for it. She even began to feel the memory loss less acutely. Sure, it was still there-a hole in her head where something should be but wasn't, and a matching hole in her heart-but she could still function.
Pietro was almost always with her, directly or indirectly. She didn't mind. His presence was comforting in a way. She knew that he truly cared for her even if there was still plenty she didn't remember. It returned in bits and pieces-slowly but surely.
This was the state of things a couple of weeks later, when Natasha slapped a newspaper down onto the breakfast table and causing the rest of the team to look up from whatever they'd been doing for the past twenty minutes. The headline blared up at them: Who's to Blame for Sokovia?
Steve sighed. "Another one? It's been a year now."
"Apparently they're still looking for someone to point fingers at." the Black Widow replied sullenly as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"What are they suggesting this time?"
"That the Avengers take responsibility for their actions. Sokovia was decimated, as we all know-"
"That wasn't our fault. If the Avengers hadn't been there we wouldn't have a world left to save." Pietro replied.
"All of it could have been avoided if Stark didn't create that robot." Natasha replied. "I think the government is sick of having to clean up our messes. When the Avengers do something, they aren't exactly subtle about it."
Sam read the rest of the article over her shoulder. "They wanted us to fly to Washington and appear in front of the legislature?"
Natasha sighed. "Apparently so. Not for a couple of weeks though. We still have time to figure something out."
Wanda could guess what that meant, and why the other Avengers seemed so against the whole idea. The team had been formed as a last ditch attempt to save the world in a time of greatest peril. It wasn't a team that was meant to be controlled by the government or told what to do and who to save; the Avengers worked for the good of the world, not the ideals of a single country or group of people. Leave it to Washington to screw up their neat little system. "What are we planning to do about it?"
"It's the government." Steve said. "Do we really have a choice?"
The fact of the matter was that they didn't. Whether they liked it or not, the Avengers were going to the nation's capital.
~V102~
During the morning's training session, Natasha went even harder on Wanda than she normally did. Usually Wanda could last against her for at least ten seconds-but not today. Almost instantaneously the ex-assassin would find a way to grasp her wrist and flip it, sending her flying into the mats scattered somewhat haphazardly over the training center's floor. Wanda hit the ground again and again until she felt something snap inside her kneecap and found she had trouble standing.
"Sorry." Nat said. "I guess I went a little overboard."
Wanda managed a smile. "It's fine. Really."
"Can you stand?"
She tried but her leg gave out under her and she almost fell-barely managing to catch herself on the rock climbing wall. "I don't think so."
"Shit. You might want to go to the infirmary and get that checked out."
"That might be the best idea." She got to her feet a little more carefully this time, shifting from foot to foot and trying to find the best way to put weight on her leg without causing it more pain.
"Can you walk on your own?"
"Of course." Not that she would tell anyone if she couldn't, of course.
She'd never been in the infirmary at the Avengers base before. Sure, she'd been in the clinic sometimes for various sprains and the like but she'd never been in the infirmary proper. It looked just like she'd imagined it would-the walls had been painted a sterile white and the room was well stocked with that seemed like enough gauze and bandages to care for a small army. She took a seat in one of the chairs arrayed on either side of the room and waited for the medical professional Natasha had said she would call. There were a few who lived just down the road from the base; all had different day jobs and different types of clearance and all were on call 24/7 in case of an emergency. Wanda didn't know if a sprained tendon qualified as an emergency, but Natasha had been adamant they get the injury checked out so Wanda wouldn't injure herself further before the rapidly approaching mission.
It didn't take long for Steve to find her and take a seat in the opposite chair. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, looking almost guilty as he watched her massage her knee. "Nat told me what happened-"
"I'm fine. Honestly."
"She know not to use moves like that in a non-combat zone."
"It's been a rather…stressful morning. I can't say I blame her."
He sighed, massaging his temples like he had a headache. "Don't I know it. So, what do you think about all of this government-interfering-with-the-team business?"
She looked away. "I don't know what to think."
"I should have done something after Sokovia. There were all sorts of articles and TV interviews…at first they praised the Avengers and their heroics, but the media can be very fickle. Once the initial hype died down, they started to point fingers. People were dead, thousands were homeless, there was a huge hole in the center of Eastern Europe-a lot of people were really ticked off. We went underground, in a way. Fury's orders. No public appearances. No explanations. No excuses. But I should have done something-I'm the leader of the Avengers. What's the worst SHIELD could have done? Killed me? They wouldn't have. People would riot and the media would have a field day. But I followed orders like a good little soldier, I let all that resentment and hostility build up…and now we all have to pay the price."
"Don't say things like that. You couldn't have known-"
"I should have guessed. This is how things start: conflicts, hostilities, even…in some cases…war. I've seen it before. I suppose I just wasn't ready to confront things yet."
"We'll figure this out. We'll go to Washington, do whatever we have to do-play our roles, answer whatever questions the lawmakers want us to answer-and hopefully that will be it. Hopefully they'll leave us alone."
"And if they don't? People can be frightened of what they don't understand-and let's face it, we aren't exactly normal."
"We'll just show them there's nothing to be afraid of."
Just then the door opened and a woman with blonde hair holding a small medkit walked in. Steve stood up automatically and nodded in acknowledgement. "Sharon."
"Cap. Long time no see." She took a seat in the chair the Captain had just vacated and held out a hand for Wanda to shake. "My name is Sharon Carter, agent of SHIELD. I'm a nurse as my day job. Let's see what we're dealing with here."
"I'll get the rest of the team caught up." Steve said as he turned to leave. "How long are you going to need, Sharon?"
"Not long." she replied. "At least try and enjoy yourself."
He laughed humorlessly before he closed the door behind him with a soft click. "I'll try."
Sharon did a thorough check of Wanda's knee before she made her diagnosis. "What did Nat do to you? It looks like you tore a ligament."
"We were sparring. It didn't go well."
"I guess not. Well, the good news is that things look a lot better than they could be. Stay off that leg for the rest of the day and you'll be just fine tomorrow-but no more strenuous stunts. Ease back into it."
"We have a mission in a few days. Will I-"
"As long as you don't do anything stupid. Then again, you don't strike me as the kind of person who does stupid things." She started to pack up and shook her head as if she was still in shock about something. "Wanda Maximoff. Wow. They told us you'd been found but I think we all believed on some level that they were lying. It's been so long…Doesn't matter. I'm glad you're here. The team hasn't been the same since Sokovia. One dead, one missing, and one with such bad injuries no one was sure whether or not he'd live through the week? They weren't doing so hot."
"I'm worried about Steve. He's taking all of this government business upon himself-"
"He always does. He'll be fine, Wanda. Steve is a born leader. One of his gifts is his ability to shoulder more burdens than any person should."
"He shouldn't have to."
Sharon sighed as she closed her bag with a small click. "No one said the world is fair. Call if you need anything; Nat has my cell phone number."
"I'll walk you to the door-"
She smirked drily. "Nice try. Didn't I tell you to stay off that foot? Don't worry-the base isn't that big. I'm pretty sure I can find my own way out."
~V102~
"This is a sniper rifle. Hold it, see how it feels-but don't fire."
Pietro passed the weapon from hand to hand, feeling its weight. "And why can't I fire?"
"Because of the recoil." Natasha replied, moving the targets forward that were positioned on every side of the room. "I don't want you to fall over." He sighed and shifted from foot to foot impatiently. He tried to be a good student, he really did; he just resented having to sit through lecture after lecture about the way guns worked when they were really, in essence, all the same-cock the barrel, aim, and fire. But still Natasha insisted on walking him through every step like he was a toddler. Wanda got to spend the day upstairs watching Netflix while she kept her foot iced; he was beginning to think he would give anything to be able to go watch TV with her because shooting practice was getting so tedious. It had nothing to do with his innately overprotective big brother instincts at all. Certainly not.
"Pietro, focus." Natasha said, showing him how to hold, load, and fire the gun so many times Pietro was sure he'd be able to do it in his sleep.
He nodded and aimed at the first target, taking a moment to center himself before he cocked the rifle and fired. The bullet hit just below the center of the target's wooden frame.
"Sloppy." Natasha critiqued. "You're better than that."
He tried again with much the same result-then again and again. Nothing changed. For some reason he just couldn't make the bullets go in the direction he wanted them to go. Finally, Natasha had to click the safety on his gun once he'd emptied half a cartridge just to get him to snap out of it. He practically threw the gun to the ground in frustration. "What do you suggest?" he asked half mockingly. "Aim higher? Slow my heartbeat so I can focus? It's not working, Romanoff! None of this is working."
"Why don't you start by taking five?"
He sighed but complied, taking a sip from his water bottle. "Why is it so hard?"
"You're not centered. What are you thinking about just before you pull that trigger? What do you imagine?"
"What makes you think I imagine anything?"
She rolled her eyes. "Everyone imagines something-at least until they train themselves not to."
"Fine. I pretend that every one of these targets is a member of Hydra. I imagine that every time I fire that gun I'm picking them off one by one-the one or two or ten or fifteen that are still coming after us." His mind flipped to its favorite topic for pondering; the one that was most likely to keep him awake at night. "Do you think it's true? Did they capture her after the Battle of Sokovia and we just didn't realize it?"
"I don't know. I'm in the dark about all of this, just like you are. I know something happened to her last year. She's not the same woman who messed in our heads back on that ship…but I don't know why she changed. I don't know just how much she remembers and how much she just isn't willing to tell us for whatever reason-but I believe that whatever happened wasn't exactly a picnic for her. If her brain really is shut down because for whatever reason she can't or won't remember those memories…I'd say they're very bad." Pietro looked like he was going to protest but Natasha kept on talking. "But I don't think it's necessarily something to worry about. Wanda is adjusting just fine-and once she's ready to tell you just what's going on inside that head of hers she'll let you know. Until then, don't pry. Don't make it any harder for her than it has to be. She's going to be fine. Besides, she's strong. We both know that."
He nodded.
"Now," she continued, "you need to work on the images in your head."
"What should I be imagining instead?" he asked, his voice brimming with ill-disguised curiosity.
"Nothing." Natasha replied just as calmly. "You should be imagining that target as just a target. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't get cocky, don't get emotional. Keep your heartbeat steady-at least, as steady as it can be under the circumstances."
"That won't be a problem at all." he said sarcastically, though he was smiling as he reloaded the gun and aimed again, taking a moment to focus. He glanced through the scope at the little red dot in the center of the target. It was just a dot…just a simple little dot…
He pulled the trigger. The little metal ball arced through the air and embedded itself in the wooden target with a soft pssh. Not a bullseye but pretty darn close. Natasha nodded once, as close to approval as she got. "Better."
Pietro rolled his eyes. "Don't shortchange me. Most people wouldn't be able to hit the target the first day-much less the center."
"Most people-but I don't believe you're most people, Maximoff."
"I suppose not." Most days he didn't know for sure whether that was a good thing or not.
They had target practice for about twenty more minutes; Pietro never got a bullseye but all his shots were consistent, which Natasha maintained was just as good. "We'll practice more tomorrow. Go see your sister. She's probably bored out of her skull.
~V102~
As it happened, Rhodey and Sam were trying to teach Wanda how to play Star Wars: Battlefront.
"Is that a stormtrooper?" Sam asked, pointing to a blur of black and white on the top of a fabricated ice mountain on the other side of the screen.
"Shoot it." Rhodey said, looking like he wanted to cringe at Wanda's terrible aim but was managing to restrain himself. "Or shoot…anything. That works too."
Wanda rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't spend more of my childhood breaking into homes to use their video game counsels."
Rhodey had already stopped listening, preferring to focus on the stormtrooper that had managed to sneak up on Wanda's rebel trooper. "Shoot him!"
"Shit." Wanda muttered as she pressed random buttons on the controller. The shot went far off course and the stormtrooper was able to get in a few good shots. The screen blurred a dull grey before it faded to black and the words Game Over flashed across the screen.
"Hey, don't worry about it." Sam said as her legacy stats scrolled across the screen. "You did better than you did last time."
"By about two minutes."
"Two minutes is still progress."
Pietro took a seat on the couch next to her and watched the television with interest. "What are you playing?"
"Not much. Just a shooting game I'm comically bad at that's still interesting enough to keep me playing-and getting shot repeatedly. How was weapons training?"
"It went better than I expected. I'm a very good shot. Someday I'll have to teach you."
"Someday soon." Steve replied, coming in with a data pad in his open hand. "We still have a date with that drug cartel-and we ship out in three days."
~V102~
"This is the team arsenal. It has everything a team of elite superheroes might require to save the world. Take whatever you need." Sam said, punching a key code into a small pad near the side of the door and sitting through a retinal scan just to be safe. Two metal doors swung open on silent hinges to reveal a surprisingly small room that was filled to overflowing with all manner of weapons, fake IDs, and various types of other combat gear.
Wanda could have taken twenty minutes just to look everything over but she crossed the room and grabbed one item automatically. She shrugged into the red leather jacket with a sharp flash of recognition and a small smile. "I believe I lost one just like this in Sokovia."
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