The bullets flew like shining silver birds through the air, though there was no sound of gunshots or helicopter blades. Just horrible, pressing silence as the bullets soared in slow motion.

Wanda Maximoff couldn't tell if she was sitting, standing, or even in possession of a body. She had sight though. If not through a pair of eyes, then by some other means, but she had sight.

The grey flickers of bullets was darkened by a sudden spray of dark red into the nearly empty landscape.

Blood.

Blood splattered onto floors devoid of decoration, blood flecked across bullets that still came through the silent air, blood flowed from the many holes that were appearing all over the body of her brother.

Wanda then knew she could not have a body, because she could not scream, no matter how hard she tried. She could not hear her screams, she could not taste anything but pain, she could not feel anything but agony ripping through her disembodied consciousness.

Sharp stinging erupted across her face--- wait, no, she didn't have a face... But now she felt other things, too. Wet trails across her cheeks. Scalp aching and sore. Voice cracking as she finally registered her own drawn out scream of misery.

Wanda wrenched herself awake, cutting off the dreadful noise coming from her trembling lips. She heaved herself into a seated position, tangled in the pale grey sheets, and covered her mouth with a hand, trying to hold back her shuddering gasps.

Her shoulders shook as she hunched in upon herself, hot tears dripping down her cheeks. Strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself in the darkness, her voice hoarse and cracking. She ran her fingers through her hair, repeating the words over and over in hushed tones. "Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream..."

She had started rocking herself at some point, back and forward, arms wrapped around her legs. She was so focused on her monologue that she didn't even notice her visitor. She started when a gentle hand touched her shoulder, the power instantly rising up inside of her like a snake, ready to strike.

"You alright, Wanda?" Natasha Romanoff stood over her, looking mildly concerned.

Wanda hesitated before speaking. For one, she wasn't sure what to say. She and Natasha usually only interacted through Clint. But Clint had gone home to take care of his newborn son after Ultron's defeat, and they hadn't spoken much since.

Clint trusts her, she told herself, and tried to think of what to say.

"No, you aren't." Natasha sighed. "Of course you aren't. Come on, I'll make you some tea."  

~~~

There were a few things that Wanda knew, for sure, about the Black Widow.

Firstly, she was a spy, and her trust only extended to a select few. Clint and Steve, for example.

Second, she had not completely forgiven Wanda for bringing her worst memories to the foreground of her mind, and she had definitely not forgiven her for doing the same to Bruce Banner.

And finally, Natasha Romanoff was awful at making tea.

Wanda had followed the redhead to the kitchen, trying to match her velvety tread, and had watched as the woman proceeded to fill a mug with steaming hot water from the tap, drop a teabag into it, and use a teaspoon to pulverize the teabag until the water was filled with chunks of floating herb.

She tried to adopt an expression of gratefulness as she was passed the mug, wrapping her fingers around the lukewarm ceramic. "Thank you," she whispered softly.

Natasha gestured to one of the stools by the island, and Wanda obediently sat, noting that Natasha opted to remain standing. The woman leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. Her expression was unreadable. Wanda began to grow uncomfortable as the silence stretched on, and resorted to taking a sip of her tea.

"I had a brother."

Wanda's gaze shot up, surprised by the odd choice of statement to break the silence.

Natasha's eyes were downcast as she continued. "His name was Alexei. We were separated as children. I barely remember him."

Her confusion only grew, these stunted breadcrumbs she was being thrown not forming any kind of pattern in her mind.

"He died," Natasha said bluntly, her crossed arms tightening slightly. "Shortly after we found each other again."

Wanda didn't know what to say. She supposed that was how all people felt. Nobody ever seemed to know what to say to her, and now she understood. "Sorry" really didn't seem like a good response.

"I lost a sibling that I didn't even have memories of. I was out of commission for weeks after that. I might understand what it's like to lose a brother." Natasha finally looked up, and their eyes met. "But I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to lose a twin."

Wanda quickly looked away, swallowing hard. She tried to blink back tears that threatened to spill, unable to formulate a response.

"Someone you spent your entire life with, shared your life with." She could feel the Widow's eyes on her, as though her gaze was tangible. "Your other half."

Wanda was suddenly filled with annoyance and anger. She hadn't followed Natasha to the kitchen to be reminded of everything she had lost, and she certainly hadn't come to be psychoanalyzed. "Your point?" She said, trying to put some of her anger into the words, but they were thick and muffled. The voice of someone trying to hold back tears.

"A part of you died, right alongside your brother." Natasha's eyes were hard, but not cold. "Why aren't you letting yourself mourn?"

All of her anger vanished, as if someone had unblocked a drain inside of her. It seemed as though it had also triggered a faucet in her eyes, because she felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She stared at Natasha in silence, opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to say something, but no words came out.

"You've been skipping around the facility, pretending that everything is fine, but the second we look away, the truth comes out. You don't need to fake anything, Wanda."

Says the spy, Wanda thought to herself, sniffing once, but remaining quiet.

"Listen to me." Natasha leaned forward, forcing Wanda to look at her. "It is okay to be in mourning, Wanda. Nobody expects you to be able to bounce back from something like what you've experienced. Nobody."

It was as though a dam broke behind Wanda's eyes, and she let out a broken sob. She couldn't make herself look away from Natasha, even though her face was barely visible through all of the tears. She lifted her hands to hide her face, grateful for her long sweater sleeves. She cried into the soft material on her palms, her shoulders shaking.

It was several minutes before the tears started to slow, and eventually they stopped altogether. She sniffed again, finally lowering her hands.

Natasha was still watching her, but she was wearing an odd expression. "Come over here and wash your face, blow your nose."

Wanda did as she was told, standing and making her way around the island. She rolled up her sleeves hurriedly as Natasha turned the sink's tap on. The water felt cold on her skin, and even colder on her face, but she had to admit it did help her feel a bit better. Natasha handed her a paper towel that she mopped her face and hands with before blowing her nose.

"Feel better?" Natasha asked, glancing down at her.

Wanda nodded, hiccuping once.

"I always feel better after I cry, too. I think of it as a good emotional flush." Natasha hesitated, then opened her arms slightly.

Wanda was rather nonplussed, but she hesitantly crept forward and was accepted into an embrace. The comforting action felt foreign, especially coming from someone like the Black Widow, but it was also familiar. Natasha was probably the first person besides Pietro to hug her since she was a child.

Although she very much felt safe in the Widow's arms, something she never thought would be possible, she didn't want to make the situation uncomfortable, so she pulled back first. Her voice was thick and hoarse when she spoke. "Was it really that obvious that I was faking?"

Natasha's lips twitched in a faint smile. "Well, it was to me and Steve. The others kind of thought it was weird how quickly you seemed to bounce back. I think even Vision was a bit confused."

She ducked her head in embarrassment, sniffling. "I wasn't trying to be dishonest, I just... I didn't want to be a burden."

Natasha looked saddened when Wanda glanced up at her. "You aren't a burden to us, Wanda. It's you who has the burden." She placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder. "And it's a burden that we want to help you bear. And it's a burden some of us are already familiar with."

Wanda remembered how the conversation had started with a pang. "I'm sorry about your brother," she said, because how could she say nothing? Sorry was better than silence, at least.

"Thanks, Wanda. But I'm not the only one who's lost family. Steve knows what it's like, too."

Wanda's expression must have shown her confusion, because Natasha's expression saddened yet again.

"Steve's best friend was a man named James Barnes. They were so close, they didn't need to share blood to be brothers." Her voice was tinged with sorrow, but also something else, something Wanda couldn't place. "He was captured by HYDRA and experimented on. Steve went under and came out of the ice thinking he was dead."

Wanda felt tears well up again, unable to stop them. "That's... horrible," she managed, voice shaky.

"Worst part was, James Barnes wasn't dead. HYDRA turned him into a weapon. Just like they tried to do to you and your brother. Steve and Sam and I spent a good part of a year trying to track him down. The Winter Soldier. Brainwashed and broken."

Wanda couldn't think of anything to say for several long seconds. "Is there any way to bring him back?" She said eventually.

"We think so. Our first hint towards that was the fact that he saved Steve from drowning. We think he's breaking through HYDRA's programming. If we could get him back here, we might be able to break it completely."

Wanda's smile and surge of hope were short lived, at the Widow's next words.

"The only problem is finding him. He's a ghost, almost impossible to track."

"Maybe I could help," Wanda said meekly, unsure of how she would do any such thing, but wanting so desperately to be useful.

Natasha smiled down at her. "Maybe. You'll need some training before that, though." Her gaze hardened again. "And that's another thing I've been wanting to ask you, Wanda." She hesitated. "Do you really want to train? To be an Avenger?"

Wanda was taken aback by the question. Until now, she hadn't really thought she had an option. She would train to be an Avenger to make up for her involvement with HYDRA and Ultron. She glanced back at Natasha. "Shouldn't I?" She asked hesitantly.

Natasha seemed troubled by her response, her eyebrows furrowing. "It's not a crime to walk away. A lot of people in your position would want nothing more to do with this life. And no one would blame you if you felt that way."

"But..." She stopped, unsure of what she wanted to say. It took her a few seconds before she started again. "Clint, during the battle in Sokovia---," her voice cracked slightly when she said the name of her destroyed home. "Clint told me that if I decided to go out there and fight against Ultron, I would be an Avenger."

Natasha nodded slightly. "He told me about that."

"Well..." She hesitated. "I fought Ultron. I fought with the Avengers. And my brother died fighting Ultron." She swallowed, pausing before continuing. "And I avenged him." Tears dripped down her cheeks, but she didn't stop. "I wanted to make sure he didn't die in vain, so I avenged him. And I want to try to make sure that nobody else dies in vain."

"You want to be an Avenger."

"Yes."

~~~

Wanda was grateful that her tea had gone cold long ago, as it gave her an excuse to dump it down the sink. The Widow was surprisingly good at pep talks, but she couldn't make tea.

She was also grateful when Natasha walked her back down the hallway towards her room.

"Remember, it's okay to be mourning," Natasha reminded her as she reached the door to her own room. Wanda had nodded and the two quietly wished each other good night.

It was as she was continuing down the hallway towards her own room when she just about jumped out of her skin. A translucent figure had ghosted right through the wall on her right, about three feet in front of her. She exhaled in relief when the figure solidified into Vision.

"You scared me," she whispered, placing a hand on her heart, which was still pounding.

The raised outlines over Vision's brows furrowed and his expression morphed into apologetic in a heartbeat. "I apologize," he said softly. "It was not my intention to frighten you."

Wanda almost wanted to laugh, he somehow reminded her of a kicked puppy in that moment. "It's alright, I'm the one who should be sorry if I woke you up." Her eyes drifted up to fix on the glowing yellow gem on his forehead.

"No, no, you didn't. I was already awake." He looked curious now. "I heard voices and wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Wanda hesitated, but managed a small smile. "Everything is better," she told him. "Nothing to worry about."

Vision briefly looked doubtful, but seemed to accept her words. "If that's the case, I will return to my room."

She placed a hand on her doorknob, offering him a smile. "Good night, Vision."

He seemed hesitant to respond, but returned her smile. "Good night, Wanda."

She heard the faint sound of him phasing back through the wall, and opened her own door with a yawn. The windows showed no signs of light, but a quick glance at the clock on her wall told her it was well into the morning. She felt exhausted, probably from all of the crying, and immediately crawled onto the bed, pulling the soft grey sheets over her body.

Maybe it was the crying that helped, or Natasha's words, but Wanda fell asleep within seconds.

~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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I really hope you all enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the next one! If you have any questions, feel free to ask them.

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