Word count: 2,449

~>)/|\(<~

Wanda awoke to a giggling little girl jumping on her bed, shouting "Wake up!". She slowly opened her eyes and looks at her.

"Alright, I'm awake," she feels a smile come to her face as the child as she gets off of the bed and runs off. Wanda slowly sits up and gets out of bed, brushing off her dress. She walks to the kitchen, a little disoriented and very sleepy. Though she wasn't exactly hungry, she knew that Clint wouldn't be happy with her if she stayed cooped up in her room.

As she walks in, she sees everyone setting the table, caring for the kids or putting food on a plate. It truly was a sight to see all of them just pitching in. A billionaire putting glasses on a table while a little girl folds napkins into hearts, a world-famous assassin holding a baby and showing him what they would be eating, an archer placing silverware next to the plates, an American mascot putting some rice in a large series of bowls...

She slowly walks in and walks to Clint, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Hm? Yeah. There's a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge. You can put it on the table," Clint says. Wanda nods and walks to the fridge. Tony bumps into her as she gets the lemonade out.

"Hey. You crawled out of your cave," he smiles softly. "I'm glad."

Wanda nods and walks quickly to the table, not exactly wanting to be next to him. Tony looks over and sighs softly. He wanted to get to know her, if he was being honest. She was like him: she was an orphan, she obviously had PTSD, she had lost the last bit of her family... he wanted her to be better. Better mentally, better physically, better emotionally...

Wanda noticed how almost mournful Tony looked as he stared at her, lost in his own thoughts. She doesn't say anything and sets the pitcher on the table, then stepping back to get out of the way. She tucks some hair behind her ear, wrapping an arm around herself. Soon, the chaotic shuffling and moving ended. Natasha put Nathaniel in his high chair, the kids sat down, and everyone except for Steve took their seats. Steve brings the food in, placing a bowl before each person.

The silence was oddly comfy, not tense, not uncomfortable. Wanda looked around without making a sound, not wanting to break the beautiful tranquility. Steve soon sits down again once all the food has been served out, and Laura says, "Are we doing the blessing?"

After supper, the sun had already set. Laura had already sent the kids to bed, but the adults chatted over wine while Clint and Tony cleaned the dishes. Wanda didn't drink, but she did like listening to everyone chatting. She was, however, getting quite exhausted. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep quite yet, though, so she was just wearing herself out. She would rarely add any input, since she was scarcely able to focus on the conversation. Everything else was gripping at her attention, and her mind kept drifting. She didn't even notice Clint's concerned look as she looked at every individual magnet on the fridge. He couldn't blame her for not noticing, since he didn't notice Tony approaching the girl until her concentration was broken by him.

"Hey. You look tired, you should go ahead and get to bed, okay?" Tony says. Wanda looks at him with almost a confused look, not knowing why he had to be the one to tell her. Tony sighs reservedly and looks at Clint for help.

"I think we should all go to bed. We'll go to town in the morning, they have a market on Fridays," Clint says. The others nod. They knew it was just an excuse to get Wanda to get some rest, and she sighs and nods too. Clint wraps an arm around her and escorts her to her room. She stays silent, though feeling on the verge of tears again. She didn't know why, but she just felt like crying. After Clint brings her to her room, she gets in bed and nods towards the door, telling him to leave without saying a word, but then he speaks. "You know, we're here for you. We know what it's like to lose someone you love."

Wanda says nothing. She just lays down in bed.

"We mean it. You can talk to any of us about anything you need," he says. "You don't have to do anything alone anymore."

"Stop that," she replies quietly. "I don't need your sympathy."

"Shutting yourself off is only going to make this whole process harder," he says. "You're going to-"

"I said go away..." her voice was much more weak. It because clear how much she needed to talk.

"I'm not going away. We care about you, Wanda," he was going to continue talking, but he felt something push him out of the room, the door then closing and locking. Clint groans and walks off, knowing how useless trying to help would be.

Wanda gets up and sighs. She undressed and quietly put on a tank top and pajama pants, then crawling back into bed and trying to sleep again. Her muscles were oddly weak, she felt pretty fatigued all of a sudden. She pulls the sheets up, trying to fall asleep again.

Around 2 am, Wanda gave up. She hadn't been able to sleep, and nothing seemed to help. Instead, she snuck out of her room silently. She went the kitchen and grabbed a lighter, as well as a candle. She then sneaks back out of the kitchen, glancing at the blonde behemoth, Steve, sleeping peacefully on the couch, since Tony had insisted that he slept alone that night. She bites her lip, feeling a twinge of jealousy or some other ugly emotion, since she kind of wanted to be able to sleep like that. She then returns to her room quietly.

Within a few moments, a small light was lit, and Wanda placed the lighter on her nightside table. She closed her eyes and mumbled a few quiet things before opening her eyes. Usually, she could feel something cold. She looks around a little.

"Hello?" Wanda asks quietly. She had found herself feeling a presence the first time she had done this... it had worked the day after her brother died, and the next day, and the next...

Today? She didn't feel anything.

"I... I don't think you're here..." Wanda mutters. "Can I still talk to you?"

She feels a weird feeling rush through her, like something was being pulled out of her. She had never felt anything remotely like it before, but it was very faint. She began thinking it was all in her head.

"Where are you?" She was quite afraid at this point. She started feeling quite nauseous. "Did you leave me?"

She feels another wave of nausea rush over her. Her head started feeling light, so she says, "Is anyone here?" She felt truly terrified. Nobody came forward, the candlelight didn't flicker to communicate with her. "Please? Is anyone here? Pietro?" She still had a shred of hope in her heart, that little piece of her telling her that maybe he was still there. She then just looks down, closing her eyes. She starts crying again, feeling another sense of dread filling her.

"Are you really gone? For good, this time?" She asks. "I mean... I guess that's good... it means you're happier, right? You're in heaven? Mama and Papa always liked to think that... I know you didn't. You said you never believed anything we learned in temple... you always said that you liked the idea of heaven, though..."

That shred of hope was taking over. She knew she was just speaking into the air, but it made her feel a little bit better to let out the words that came to her head.

"I miss you, you know. I know you can probably see that or feel that, wherever you are..." she starts feeling lightheaded again. "I don't think you're the one making me feel this way... sick... tired... unable to sleep..."

She sighs.

"You know, I think I've been talking to you for a while. Do spirits sleep? Maybe that's why I don't feel you... either way, I wish I could sleep... I'll try again in a few hours, maybe. You used to badger me when I stayed up late..." she smiles. "Goodnight, Pietro."

She just smiles softly and cups her hand around the candle again, blowing gently. The flame flickers at first, but doesn't leave. She blows one more time, causing the flame to go out and smoke to rise up from the wick. She takes a deep breath to breathe the little stream of smoke, since it gave her a weirdly comforting feeling. She then places the candle next to her bed. She gets under the covers yet again, feeling a little better. An airy feeling in her head made her calm down. She felt like she finally might be able to fall asleep.

Just as she lays down again, she hears footsteps in the hall. Then, someone knocks on the door. She slowly sits up and flicks her hand, unlocking and opening the door, then sitting up.

"Wanda?" Clint slowly walks in. He was holding his phone.

"Clint...?" She asks, a little worried now.

"I have some bad news... would you want to hear this now or later?" Clint asks. He then says. "Was there smoke in here? I smell a bit of-"

"I lit a candle," she cuts him off. "What's the bad news?"

Clint sighs, "Well... your brother, his body went missing. I wanted to give it a little bit of time, but I figured that you would want to know as soon as I did..."

Wanda freezes. For a moment, she went completely numb. She slowly lays down again, saying, "Thank you for telling me..."

"Are you going to be okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little sick..." she felt her face get hot. Clint sits on the bed, and she shakes her head. "I'm going back to bed. You can leave now."

Clint rubs her arm, "What do you want for breakfast in the morning? I'll make it for you."

"I don't know... can I please go to sleep?" She asks.

"Yeah, I guess," he stands up. "Do you want some melatonin?"

"Mhm..." she nods slowly.

"I'll be right back."

Clint leaves, and Wanda couldn't help herself anymore. She just curls up and cries. First, she lost her brother. Now, she couldn't even mourn by his body. Pietro had told her that when he dies, he wants his body to be used as fertilizer for a tree, so he could help on a new life. She couldn't bear to make his request come true... but now, it was too late. When Clint came back in, she wiped her tears and sat up again.

"It's okay to cry, Wanda," Clint says upon seeing her tears. "It's not a bad thing."

"I wasn't crying," she replies, trying to sound cool and calm. He hands her a glass of water and two pills, not believing a word she said. She wasn't a great liar when she knew she wasn't supposed to lie.

"Want pancakes? French toast? Something from Sokovia?"

"The last thing I want is something from Sokovia. I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow, so I'll likely miss breakfast," she was still fighting back falling apart as she takes the pills. He sees her expression change and sits next to her, hugging her softly. She leans into him.

"We're in this together, okay? You carry an unimaginable weight on your shoulders, but all of us here, we all want to help you. We want to make that weight easier," he says. "I think you think you're alone. You're not."

Wanda nods slowly and leans into Clint.

"Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?" He asks. "It helped Lila when her grandfather died..."

"No. I just want to sleep..." she says.

"Do you want me to send someone to wake you up at any certain time?"

She shakes her head again. Clint sighs and kisses her head.

"Remember. We're here for you. I'll go out in the morning and get you some orange cream sodas, since you liked the one you got earlier. If you want, we can go for another drive," he says. She smiles softly.

"Thank you, Clint. For everything."

He kisses her head again and stands up, "Goodnight, Wanda. Sleep well."

Wanda nods, "Goodnight..."

Clint leaves and Wanda lays down yet again. She felt a pressure pushing on her body, like she was literally carrying something heavy, but oddly, more like something was pulling her down. She closed her eyes and hoped the melanin would allow her to sleep. She hated not being able to sleep. Pietro used to only sleep once every few days when they were being experimented on, and whenever Wanda got worried, she would make him sleep. Almost every day when she wasn't worried, he would hold her until she felt comfortable enough to sleep. Now, she would never get to be held by him again. She can't even hold his body's hand. That began to sink in.

Maybe that's why Pietro wasn't with her when she tried to talk to him. Maybe he was bound to his body... maybe he would never move on now. She had no more tears to cry, so she just trembled until the melanin finally did its job and calmed her down enough for her to drift off into a restless sleep.

Around 4 am, she was awakened again, but this time, it was by her body. She was sweating, and had intense nausea. She practically fell out of bed to get out of it, feeling the nausea get stronger as she sat on the ground, on her knees. She rushed to the bathroom, feeling her body prepare to get sick, and retched violently, then she just sat there, panting and sweating and feeling as ill as ever. She felt suddenly very faint, and didn't know why until she wiped her mouth with her arm, seeing a thick, red liquid. The same was left in the toilet, since she had actually vomited blood.

Her eyes widen as she rises and stares in the mirror, seeing her pale expression and the bloodstain from her mouth to her cheek with pure horror in her expression. She suddenly shouts, "Clint! Clint, something's wrong!"