Archive of Our Own

Wanda took a step forward as the line in front of her got shorter and the second person in front of her went up to the cashier to give their order. She had been looking over the menu screens over the baristas, but she didn’t particularly know why. She new that she would be getting the same order she always did: hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled over the whipped cream. Sometimes she would deviate from her order, but that was only to get a toasted bagel if she was hungry. But she liked her order because it was something that she liked and something that was cheap, and with the every-other-week sessions that she had with Sam she knew that they added up.

As the other cashier became free, the person in front of her quickly went over to it. She was up next. She waited in the line quietly. She knew that Sam was already sitting down, as she had seen him when she came in. Since he had a later work-out, he was able to be at the cafe earlier. Ever since he moved out of his place and would be living at the Tower or compound with her they would usually walk to the cafe together since it was only a few blocks away. But she had spent the morning having a late breakfast and learning new attack moves and positions with Natasha.

“I can help who’s next!” a female voice calls out and Wanda looks over at the till before walking over quickly.

“What can I get you?” the blonde young cashier asked.

“Can I just get a small hot chocolate with cinnamon,” Wanda quickly relays to her.

The girl quickly puts in Wanda’s order and brings up the total. Wanda takes the bank card out of her coat pocket and taps it on the machine. After a few seconds, she watches the small screen say the transaction was approved and she quickly put the card back into her pocket and took the receipt. As she stepped off to the side to wait, she took out her phone and went to her banking app, double checking the amount before she put the phone back into her pocket along with the receipt.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have any money, but she also hated to spend the moderate amount that she had. Since she officially became part of the Avengers, signing something Tony had conjured up, she now got a small percentage of royalties from the Avengers brand as everyone else did. Each member could get more or less depending on if there were items specific to them as superheroes. She knew that the Captain America and Iron Man dolls sold in toy stores always spiked in sales around this time of year. Apparently, people loved to receive various poses of them for Christmas.

She didn’t particularly rack up anything with the royalties, she was only included in merchandise if it involved something that included the whole group, such as group sets or books. No one particularly wanted Scarlett Witch merchandise. Apparently Natasha had a similar problem, and commented it was something about sexism in the toy industry. Wanda didn’t particularly mind if she didn’t make as much as the others. She rarely spent money on anything but necessities like new clothing, shampoo, and such.

Tony always told her that if she ever needed anything that would leave her a little short, she could go to him. She knew how much money he had to spare, but she still wasn’t comfortable just taking money from him even if the others sometimes did it.

The most time she deviated from using her money for necessity expenses would be these bi-weekly sessions with Sam.

“Hot chocolate with cinnamon!” a male voice calls beside her.

Wanda moves out of her thoughts. He sets the drink down on the counter and she takes it from him, giving him a soft thank you before opening the tab and taking a soft smell of the drink before she began to make her way towards Sam.

This time he was sitting by the window. It was the two chair tables by the windows that he usually sat at, but once in a while they would be full so they would sit somewhere in the middle of the café. As she got closer, Sam looked up from his phone and gave her a smile, his free hand holding his water bottle.

“Hey,” he greets her, making sure his phone was shut completely off before he put it away.

Wanda gave him a smile as well before she sat down, taking her jacket off and hanging it over her chair.

“How was your run?” she asked, settling into the chair.

“Pretty good,” he answers. “No one stopped me for an autograph today.”

She almost snorts.

“Not like that happens a lot anyway,” she teases lightly.

He gives her a teasingly pointed look. “Hey now,” he tells her. “No need to be mean.”

She gives him a small smile before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. As the first sip touches her lips, she smiles warmly and lets the feeling of the liquid warm her insides. As she quickly gets over the feeling, she looks at Sam again.

“Clint says that you will be spending a few days with him and Laura?” Sam asks, almost to confirm.

“Yeah,” Wanda nods. “Not till Boxing Day, though,” Wanda answers, smiling just thinking about the pair. They had insisted that she be there for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but she had politely declined.

“Is there something we are specifically working on today?” Wanda asked.

Sam shrugged lightly. They didn’t usually have sessions with a pre-plan anymore. They were mostly during the early days when Wanda would talk with Sam twice a week and they were specifically working on specific emotions and memories to help Wanda after her last terrible breakdown, but those ended months ago. Now, it was mostly just a time where Wanda could ramble and rant about something and get Sam’s advice or just have Sam listen so she could unload emotions.

“I know that the holidays are coming up…and I know that it’s the first time you’ll be spending the holidays without…Pietro,” Sam explains, his words getting slower as they came closer to saying his names.

Wanda takes a deep breath, her smile dropping slowly as she looks down. She appreciates Sam speaking his name softly. It was still an aching wound, and she didn’t know if it would ever go away and heal, but at least it no longer felt like someone was wringing a neck down her stomach with just his name.

“I know,” Wanda answers, her voice a little softer now.

“I know that the first holidays without a loved one can be really hard,” Sam tells her, still leading in gently.

Wanda knew that too. She still remembered the first December she and Pietro had on the streets after her mother died. And she had been feeling lonelier around this time of year, and it still felt like she was empty without having Pietro around and knowing she would not be spending this time of year with him.

“Yeah,” she admits. “It’s…different, not having him with me this year. It feels…empty, like I’m missing something. And it hurts a little to not have him here. But…strangely I think I got over most of that loss months ago. I think that’s why my breakdown was so bad.”

Sam nods.

“I miss him of course,” Wanda says hurriedly. She missed him every day. She felt lonely without him, that she still would do absolutely anything just to hug him one more time, to hear just one more joke by him. “I guess I just try to do what I can to feel him near me.”

Sam continues to nod, listening respectfully.

“You are taking this time a lot better than I thought you would, I will be honest,” Sam tells her, being soft yet straight forward. It was a promise they made to each other early on in the sessions.

Wanda nods as well, “I think about him a lot still, mostly at night and writing down memories. But you were right, writing down the memories helped. And…really I’ve been feeling close to him still. I’ve been trying to find ways to connect with him, which I won’t admit is easy.”

She feels something bubbling in her stomach and she takes another sip of her hot chocolate, hoping to calm it. Sam nods, smiling lightly but she could tell that there was something else underneath it. She knew that the discussion wasn’t over.

“We’ve all just been noticing that you’re a bit…detached from all the festivities. A few people have been talking with me and wanted me to make sure that you were okay,” Sam also admits.

Wanda looks down, pursing her lips.

It was true. The Avengers were all hurriedly and excitedly last-minute decorating the tower in Christmas decorations or making Christmas cookies and other baked goods in preparation. All the while FRIDAY had been blasting Christmas music for everyone in the common room to hear or there was a Christmas movie playing in the background and for breaks. It was starting to look like a classy Christmas carnival in the Tower.

“I’m guessing a certain blond said something,” Wanda comments in a small voice, forcing herself to look up at him.

The other grins lightly.

“Captain Worry-wort may have mentioned something,” Sam said before he takes another drink of his coffee. Afterwards, he brings it back down and looks softly and gently serious, “I think he’s worried that the holiday is….bringing up some memories and feelings. Everyone just wants to make sure that you’ll be okay. I mean, we know it’ll be the f—”

“Yeah,” she says quickly and cutting him off, looking down again and cutting him off, not realizing her hand was gripping her hot chocolate cup tighter. He didn’t need to say it out loud again. She knew it well already.

She bites her lip, and sighs, “sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Like I said, in these discussions I’m the only one allowed to say it,” Sam promises, “but…is there anything you want to talk about?”

Wanda stares down at the hot chocolate in front of her, feeling its warmth through the cup and to her small fingers.

“I don’t really know the exact reason why I don’t join in,” Wanda admits to him, shrugging a bit at the end to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. “When the decorations are up it looks colourful and nice, and I can tell that doing all these things makes the others really happy.”

She looks up at him as though to make sure that he was understanding. Sam was just staring back at her, silent so he could let her continue. As inviting as that should’ve been, it wasn’t. She knew that he celebrated Christmas too, in the Tower he didn’t stick out.

“Religion is just….really complicated for me,” Wanda admits in a small voice. “My mom didn’t really…it was complicated and hurt for her too. And Pietro and I were so young….” She wasn’t quite sure how to explain it, or even explain her family life story. Maybe she didn’t need to explain that right now. She didn’t think Sam would understand and she didn’t really think she could be eloquent with words to make him yet either.

There was one thing she could start with though, just so Sam could start to see her view and slight confusion over the time of year. And perhaps it would be nice if a person in her inner circle knew.

“But the main reason I feel so…weird and out of place about everything going on at the Tower right now is because I don’t know what to do. I know of these traditions but I never participated in them,” Wanda shrugged, “truthfully…I’m Jewish.”

She hated how the words made it seem like she was making a confession. Because she wasn’t. It wasn’t something she was hiding, or at least felt like she was hiding. Just because she wasn’t saying it to everyone didn’t mean that she was hiding it, right? If anyone in the Tower came up to her and asked then she would have told them. They just…didn’t. And Wanda  never volunteered that information.

Sam stared at her and she could almost see the information being processed through his mind.

“You’re…Jewish?” he looks as though he is still in deep thought or memory.

“Not….well not…completely, I guess,” Wanda admits, feeling a little smaller. “It’s what my mom was but…she didn’t completely follow it either because of what happened to her and she…died when Pietro and I were pretty young.” She shrugs again, as though trying to push off her own feelings and convey to Sam that it wasn’t a big deal. “We never really had holiday traditions instilled into us. And living on the streets it was always a weird and frankly awful time for us.”

Before he could ask, she shakes her head and tells him, “It’s complicated, and not memories I really want to revisit right now. Christmas time on the streets was one of the worst times of the year. It’s not something I’d like to talk about…at least not right now,” Complicated wasn’t nearly the best word that should be used for her feelings and her past on the subject of December holiday times, and there were memories she hated to remember.

“Really?” Sam asked, genuinely surprised. “I would’ve thought that with the season of giving, people would be more likely to give help.”

Wanda had to keep herself from glaring at him. He couldn’t know. She knew he had faced his own problems growing up, and even still now, based on who he was. But, while there were some things Sam could empathize with her even if he didn’t know it until a few minutes ago when it came to people regarding you based on who you are, being orphaned and growing up on the literal streets was not one of them. While he had his own problems, she knew that he had grown up in a middle class home, had good opportunities presented to him even if they were still slighted against him. She and Pietro had nothing. It was years that she knew none of them could fully understand, nor the repercussions of it. All of them had their own individual problems, some more than others. She was no exception.

The images of her and Pietro wondering if they wouldn’t wake up the next day while watching everyone else walking around with new gifts and how their houses were still up and bright with lights and warmth. How sometimes they could just sit against it and feel the heat radiating from inside through the bricks. The way that people were so ready to put change into a donation bin but glared at them whenever they walked past, or donated clothes to stores and charities that would only turn their backs to them. Because they weren’t far away and in the perfect images in their heads. Because they didn’t look like they wanted, because some how the people could see that they were not Christian, but Jewish and white-passing. Why did they deserve their precious charity. The memory of a few Christmases where priests or nuns would talk to them and encourage them to convert, how they lied just so they had a warm place to sleep for the night.

The images of walking past homes and seeing happy families smiling and holding each other. Of seeing Christmas trees and menorah’s through golden glow windows. The memories of Wanda wishing desperately that she could hug her mother one more time. The memories of the regular Jewish synagogues not letting them in because they were somehow not the right kind of Jewish. They knew her mother and their heritage, and knew that they didn’t belong. That people wanted to give help and charity to a certain kind of Person or Child. And that Child, was never her or her brother.

“The season of giving almost always has strings attached,” Wanda replied, her voice almost dark as she took another drink.

Hearing her tone, Sam decides to drop it. Wanda thought it was a wise decision.

“Well, is there anything we can do to help make things more comfortable?” Sam asks gently.

The panic that suddenly erupted in Wanda was astounding.

“No, no,” Wanda hurriedly answers. She shakes her head, her hand tightly gripping the cup in her hand. She sighs before gathering her wits, hoping she didn’t sound too weird again.

“I don’t want any special treatment or people going to extra trouble over me,” Wanda explained.

“I don’t think it would be any trouble for any of us, Wanda,” Sam tries but Wanda is still shaking her head.

“Sam this…it’s not something I’m quite ready to talk about right now,” Wanda tells him hastily. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply, letting the air go to her mind; using the techniques that Sam taught her. She can sense him getting close, yet still keeping his distance. He is there to help her if she needed it, he usually helped to coach her through a small cool-down, but he seemed to be giving her space that she needed physically and space to allow her to help her through her own thoughts.

Afterwards, Wanda lets out one last sigh and then opens her eyes again. She sees the concern on Sam’s face, and it touches her, but she gives him a small smile.

“I’m okay, Sam, this is just a discussion and topic that…I’m really not ready to just unpack it all yet,” she tells him, this time with more control. It didn’t seem that Sam would understand it that much anyway.

Sam nods, seeing the colour come back to her face and he leans back in his seat again.

“Seems like it’s a pretty deep wound,” he comments.

Wanda nods and looks down, taking a sip of her drink.

“Is there people you can talk to about it though?” Sam asks, still moving cautiously but keeping a comforting tone. “I mean, have you connected with any other Jewish people or synagogues in the city?”

A little surprised, Wanda hopes that it doesn’t show as she shakes her head.

“No, not really…and I don’t really think I’d fit in with them either,” Wanda admits. There was the fact that she wasn’t just ‘Jewish’ but Romani Jewish, and if people were as regardant of that detail as they were in Sokovia, and by how Romani and Jewish people separately were regarded, she didn’t think it was too hard to believe they would be similar. Not to mention, she wasn’t from America and still didn’t completely know the American culture. And she was an Avenger, and they had to keep low profiles and small close groups - and as a rather unwanted immigrant and Avenger, she kept herself pretty isolated.

And there was the whole aspect of not even knowing how to be a part of her identity.

Sam nods.

“You know that in these sessions I don’t tell you what to do, I just give advice that I think can help you,” Sam tells her gently, “but I think that reaching out to a community around here, or even just talking to a Rabbi you think you could trust could really help. If you find a community around here then you’ll have people to connect with and it might help to have people who you can talk to that have similar backgrounds to you.”

She almost asks if that meant finding Romani Jewish people who grew up in a war zone too, but she knew that would be too rude.

“I’ll think about it,” she admits.

Sam nods taking a sip of his own drink.

“Is there anything you wanted to talk about other than that then?” Sam asks, allowing her a time to vent, as what was their usual at these meetings at this point. Sometimes Sam had a plan to ask her specific questions to think and grow in certain things, but that was mostly when they first started having these sessions and wanted to help her open up and learn more about herself to get better.

Wanda shakes her head. “Really…nothing is going on, Sam. I mean the holidays are a rough time for me, but it’s just something I’ve got to really find out how to articulate first. And yes they are harder without Pietro, but the reason I’m a little shy with what everyone is doing right now is because I’ve never done any of that stuff before.”

Sam nods, wanting to help her but not wanting to push her. He decided to meet her halfway. She seemed slightly out of sorts and not quite anxious, but not incredibly distressed and under self duress. And it would give her a chance to reach out to a group around the city if she wanted to as well.

“How about we meet again in a couple of days? Would that give you some time to think about all this? I really think that it’s something you should work through and talk about,” Sam suggested. “And I want to help you.”

Although a little hesitant, Wanda nods.

“Sure,” she agrees. At least it gave her some buffer time before she had to deal with this all over again. “I’m sorry our meeting was so short.”

Sam shrugs, “I like getting out, gives me a chance to walk around, and even small talks, I like talking with you.”

She smiles lightly and nods. It seems like he never had a problem being out and around the city, even as an Avenger. He knows the streets and city, has friends and allies. He is confident and has a pretty good fanbase. She had people rallying against her ability to be on the Avengers and in the United States alone. He didn’t have people who were afraid of him or quickly darted away when walking past her if they recognized her. While he was confident she got nervous every time she left the house and that people would recognize her.

Both of them got up at the same time, shrugging on their coats. Zipping up her winter coat, Wanda used her foot to bring the chair in to the table again and she grabbed for her drink even though it was almost empty.

Sam’s back is to her as he puts on his coat and gets ready to go. She stares at him, the knowing fear in her stomach slowly coming back. She clears her throat.

“Hey Sam?”

He turns around, staring at her and giving her an inquisitive look.

“You won’t tell anyone, right? It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything,” she quickly tried to give a defence, “No one else knows, at least not told by me, and I just don’t want anyone to think they have to go out of their way for me,” or make her feel more like an outsider than she already felt like she was.

Sam nods, giving her a gentle smile.

“Like I always promise, everything discussed here stays between us,” he replies softly.

Wanda nods, feeling her shoulders deflate slightly.

“Thank you,” she gives him a grateful smile.

Sam nods, moving to move his arms into his jacket.

“For the record though,” Sam begins, picking up his coffee, “it wouldn’t be a bother for any of us. I’m glad you told me, and I really think the others will too. I’m actually a little surprised I never figured it out before. You do follow most of their dietary restrictions…and here I was thinking you just didn’t like fish…shell fish…”

He was suddenly lost in the thought of what else he had missed that were clues he could’ve been looking for. But Wanda shrugged it all off. It wasn’t really that she was following the Jewish dietary following religiously, it was more out of habit and memory of what her mother did growing up.

“I just…” she stopped, then shook her head. “It’s hard to explain.”

Sam nods.

“If you’re not ready to talk about it then I won’t push you. I can’t force you to get ready for anything, I can only hope that you will find a way there either on your own or with my advice to reach out to someone in the community. But, we’ll give it a few days and see how we are. Don’t feel guilty for not being ready,” Sam tells her gently, yet still with a comforting assertiveness to it.

Wanda nods, still feeling a little nervous but also relieved. And in a way, she was glad that she told Sam. She didn’t think it would make such a difference, and she wasn’t ready to tell everyone else yet, but it didn’t feel like something only she knew and shut in anymore. It was like a part of her was allowing herself to breathe again.

Still smiling at her, Sam watches her features change lightly, even if she didn’t know that they were, but he doesn’t say anything. He didn’t want to make her self-conscious of it.

Checking his watch Sam asks her, “are you going back to the Tower?”

Wanda nods, “that was the plan.” She didn’t want to be out during the day, where people could easily recognize her.

“I can walk back with you if you want, but I have to pick up some things from the grocery store. Pepper asked me to get something for some cookies or…muffins. Apparently along with the decorating people are starting to get onto a baking frenzy. It’s the only time of year I ever see my sister bake anything,” Sam rambles, going on general conversation now and Wanda smiled lightly. Finally, a sense of normalcy.

“I can walk with you to the grocery store,” Wanda admits, “but I want to get back to the Tower.”

Sam nods with understanding. “Sounds good to me. Thankfully it’s literally on the way.”

Wanda nods, walking beside Sam as he went on about a baking disaster his sister did to his kitchen one Christmas when she was living with him. She smiles and makes small comments when it seemed right to, the giggles she had genuine. Sam could be very animate with his summaries and descriptions sometimes.

It’s only a few blocks back to the tower when she left Sam as he went into the grocery store to run the errand. At the Tower she was instantly met with the holiday decorations in the lobby, but this time her eyes linger on the menorah in the one window corner. When the elevator stops at the main floor, Vision instantly greets her with a smile and she can’t help but smile back despite the still sinking feeling in her stomach. Vision had that ability with her. The music is still loud and the others busy in their excitement of putting Christmas lights and tinsel around the walls and large windows. Some cartoon Christmas movie of children with very large heads were on the television too and she sat down and watched it with Vison and Natasha, and later Sam when he came back from the grocery store, giving the small bag to a very excited Pepper before she rambled about what she would make with it. She thought she said something about tarts.

While she watched the television she was silent and the others didn’t seem to particularly notice. Vision spoke to her every now and again, but she answered with simple and few sentences, which she knew would tip him and anyone who was watching them off. Another thing about Vision for her was that they both had the ability to make each other go into deep conversation. But her mind kept going elsewhere. She was aware of how she was outwardly appearing, but it was as though she would slam into a wall if she tried to change it.

As the people around the common room were moving around, moving to place lights or decorations around the room or windows, moving furniture to see the perfect spot for the tree could go, when things got blurry. As though the actual human bodies were just blending into a haze of colours around the room. She watched the sky outside get darker and darker until she could only see the outline of the city lights. She couldn’t help but think about what Sam said earlier. When she looked out on the skyline, she wondered if any of those lights were coming from synagogues, or houses of other Jewish people praying by a menorah lighting their windows.

When Natasha finally declared that she was going to bed, Wanda felt it was safe to do the same even if the comfort of the couch and being blocked in with others was comforting. Steve and Sam make a comment about putting up one more decoration or something of the like before doing the same. As she does a small wave of goodbye to everyone, she walks to the elevator with Natasha as the spy presses the button for their shared floor, the scanner on her finger quickly going over her prints before the doors shut.

“You doing alright?” Natasha asked, still looking ahead as the elevator was moving them up.

“Yeah,” Wanda answers, hoping that it didn’t seem like she hesitated.

She noticed that Natasha did, however. Her head didn’t move, but through the corner of her eye Wanda could tell that she was thinking about her answer and the weight of it, judging it and if it should require a follow up question, but in the end Natasha just nodded.

“Good,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda nods once. Maybe Natasha was letting it go because she had talked to Sam today. Either way, Wanda was glad that she didn’t have to go through another conversation.

They were only a few floors up from the common room and the door soon opened and Wanda saw the familiar small hallway that led to their two apartment style rooms. Each floor apparently had two one or two bedroom styled apartments and she heard that there had been a bit of rearranging over the years. Since they were the only girls on the team, Tony said that it made sense that Wanda and Natasha shared a floor; although Wanda was sure that it was also because Natasha privately told Tony to move her there so Natasha could keep an eye on her. She knew she deserved the small hurt that brought. Later on she learned from Steve that her apartment was Clint’s if he ever came to visit, which was not frequently, and the one beside him had been Thor’s when he ever came. However, since Sam joined they moved Thor and Clint to share another floor while Sam moved into Thor’s old place. I guess living for free, or on minimal rent with Tony and in the protection of the Tower was better then alone and in an easy shot. It was a similar set up at the compound, though not with as much space. And Dr. Banner, when he was living at the Tower, had his own floor at a different level than the others.

The two said their goodbyes before going into their own respective places, the electrodes in the doorknob quickly scanning Wanda’s hand. Tony had also apparently changed the security system since Ultron. While Friday could easily monitor everything, the scanners were back-up incase the AI became compromised and worked on their own completely unconnected.

The familiarity of the space did bring her some comfort. Despite everything that happened, Tony had welcomed her into the Tower and made sure her quarters would fit her, as he apparently had done with everyone. He had tried to make it cosy to her liking, even if he didn’t know a lot about her. But he did a good job. He had light hard wood floors with a dark purple, yet still non-vibrant large rug in the middle of the room with grey walls and an off-grey couch with hanging lights with designs around them. The furniture was comforting yet modern and inviting and although the walls were grey she found them as comforting rather than dull. She had a small bookshelf too, and of course all the general tables to eat at and things in the kitchen and bedrooms. It was mostly empty besides things that she knew that she needed. A few books in the mix too, but it was mostly less frills. She spent more time at the compound and therefore that space had more of her things, even if they were also fairly few. She hated spending the money in her account.

Despite not having a lot of items besides the necessities, it was her space. Her space that allowed her quiet and separation from the others when she needed to be alone. And it was the longest place she had been at to call her own since her own room at her house in Sokovia so long ago. She hasn’t had this type of shelter security in a long time and she knew she was becoming attached, whether it was the safe space here or the one in the compound.

Her soft steps thud lightly on the ground as she walks to the large windows on the far side of the room. She stops, crossing her arms lightly as she looks over New York again for a few minutes before she grabs the curtains and brings them together and walks to her room.

Wanda finally cracked on the second day. With every day that past, more dread kept filling her stomach. She knew she had a deadline, and her body never let her forget it. It was like something ticking inside her and the dread slowly filled her. She knew Sam would hold her to the timeline, and inside she knew it would be good to let the emotions out but there was something that kept enveloping her in dread at the thought of it. There was almost a count down in her head. Six days left, five days left, tomorrow would be four.

And during that time the rest of the Avengers kept decorating for the holidays. Sam kept her secret, as far as she knew no one else seemed to know. The Avengers decided on wanting to get a real tree, so the first day after her talk with Sam they decided to go out of the city to find a tree. Wanda hadn’t particularly wanted to go, but it got her out of the Tower and she knew that she would more out of place if she didn’t go than if she did. Steve had carried it most of the way to the car despite him and Tony arguing, but Tony insisted on the last word by using his suit to go through the window to bring the tree up. After training in the morning, then their lunch break, it was the late afternoon when Tony brought out the boxes of ornaments and everyone was working together to decorate the tree. And when Steve held out an ornament to her, Wanda had politely declined, looking away and saying she didn’t feel well and went up to her room to research a few things.

All of it led to Wanda looking out the window of the taxi she was riding in at seven o’clock at night on her way to the Lower East Side. She had told the others she just wanted to go to out and get something and that she shouldn’t be more than an hour.

Wanda stared at the the parked cars and city lights, the colours walking along the sidewalks of people’s coats and bags in the street lamp lights. Since it was only a few days away, there were still a lot of people out at different shops looking for and buying gifts for Christmas. They were in hubs, some places having large hubs before they quieted down, then started back up again depending on the location and stores.

As they made another turn, Wanda took out her phone Tony gave her when she first joined double checked the highlighted route Google made for her from the spot she got in the taxi to the store she was heading to. She knew she was being paranoid. She could sense the driver wasn’t a threat, but the incident from her years in Sokovia that always flared up in her mind was the reason why she took extra measures to be sure, just the same as the reason why she double checked that the back doors had working door handles before she got in.

The app told her that the shop would only be about four minutes away and she tries to settle in the back seat and look at the unfamiliar streets and buildings.

“Are you a news anchor?” the man asked, making sure his voice is heard over the soft volume of the radio playing cheery Christmas music.

Wanda’s eyes quickly flashed to the driver again. It had started ever since she got into the car. She knew taking the taxi may reward her with another risk of recognition, but walking for over an hour one way was a bit too much for her in one night. The older man kept claiming that he had seen her from somewhere. First it was asking if she lived around some communities in New York where he may have seen her around the area he lived in. Then it was asking if she was in movies or television. She was glad she decided to walk a few blocks away from the Tower before calling the taxi, or she would’ve been caught right away.

“No,” Wanda answers. She made sure that her voice didn’t reveal too much of her accent.

The driver nods and goes back to his silent thoughts, still trying to remember where he had likely seen her. From where he had seen her, he was probably getting close. Her face would’ve been on the news. Thankfully, the shop wasn’t too far away.

Wanda waits patiently for the last few blocks before she sees the sign with the same words she typed into the Google app and had read on a search not too long before. She feels the taxi slow down and soon watches it pull over into a parking spot by the sidewalk. While the driver parks, her hand goes into her pocket to take out her card and takes off her seatbelt. The driver is already moving the debit machine to the arm rest in the middle of the seat while she leans in closer to it, placing her card in the machine.

She quickly goes through all of the necessities and tips and puts in her pin number before watching the screen flash that the transaction was approved and she could take out her card.

“Thank you,” Wanda tells him, moving to place the card and phone into her pocket again.

Just as she moves to open up the car door, the man suddenly looks back at her.

“Wait! I know who you are, you’re Wanda Maximoff aren’t you? From the Avengers?” the man asks.

Turning back to look at him, Wanda stares at his face for a few seconds. He was smiling, almost warmly.

“Sure,” Wanda replies and before the man can say anything else she opens the door and steps out. Placing her head into the car again she tells him, “Thank you again for the ride,” before shutting the door.

Wanda pauses outside of the taxi as she steps onto the sidewalk, staring at the shop in front of her. It was an older building, and like most of the others in New York there were apartments above it, a few of the windows also showing lights and candle glows shining out of them. There was medium sized windows that looked into the brightly lit shop, one of them being lit brightly with a blue menorah, the first few candles already lit. The dark green sign with large white, almost cursive lettering was right against the shop.

As a few people walked by her, Wanda almost remembered where she was and she put her head down slightly and letting her hair fall along to hide her face a bit more, her hands going into the pockets of her black coat. She carefully looks along the sidewalks and waits for two women eagerly chatting to pass her before she walks to the shop.

Upon entering the shop Wanda had to let her eyes adjust to the brightness and she was instantly met with gentle heat and soft music. It was the first time she heard music from a public place that wasn’t Christmas music for the past month. She looks around, quickly getting the general landscape of the store. It was relatively small, and there were some shelving on the side that held figurines or jewelry along the one side.

Further down there were things that looked like decorations along the walls and below them were tables against the white wall with candles and menorahs and other celebrations attributes required for this season’s celebrations. There were also sectionals and shelves in the middle of the back area of the store. From where she was she could see books along the shelves with white labels in the middle of some shelves, likely labelling the types of books on them. There were also large rectangle baskets in the middle of the walkway between the cashier and the shelves against the wall across from it. In them were hats and mittens and scarves of varying colours and size. There was also a wooden box in the corner by the window that was blue and white with a sign that said ‘donations’ above the box. She could even see that people had put a few things in them. There weren’t many people in the shop, maybe only 7, but it seemed more crowded with the shop being so small.

“Can I help you find anything?”

The cashier’s voice broke Wanda out of her thoughts as she looked upon the store. Her gaze moved to the cashier, noticing a later-middle-aged woman. She had long and thick dark brown hair. She had a round, but kind face, her hair with a lot of natural volume poising around her head.

In waiting for her answer, the woman leaned further against the counter, as though ready to push herself off of it if needed.

Wanda shakes her head, not realizing how hurried it looked.

“No thank you, I’m just looking,” she tells her, her hair blocking out some of the smile she meant to give to reassure the other woman.

Slowly, Wanda weaves past the other customers, some looking at the jewelry while others were along the books and decorations as well as the two middle aged women were on their way to the cashier. She hears their gentle small talk between the three of them as she makes her way over to the books first. It seemed like the safest option to begin looking, and it allowed her a bit of privacy from the others in the store.

Wanda walks along the shelves of books, fingers trailing over the spines. She could tell that some of them were new, and some were lightly used based on the creases in the spines. She glazed over the titles and authors that she saw, moving through a few of the genres. The one with non-fiction dealing with history and theology were rather thick, and most of them were older. She went past a few shelves of fiction books, where she guessed the stories went around characters who were Jewish, or plots with Jewish imagery. But she slowed down slightly when she came upon the shelf with the label ‘poetry’. Those books were thinner, most of them looked used.

She gazes over the books, taking more time to look over each title and author. She had heard of a few before. Leonard Cohen especially, but also Marge Piercy and Yehuda Amichai. There were other names she hadn’t heard of. She pulls out a smaller book titled ‘Leonard Cohen: Poems and Songs’ and looks it over. She had heard his name a lot, and had heard his most famous song, and she opens the book and flips though it before pulling it closer against her before moving on to look at other authors and books.

She picks up a few, some books by specific authors like Jacqueline Osherow and Paul Celan while other books were collections of poems by Jewish authors. She settles on another book The Book Of Life by Alicia Ostriker to get today, taking mental pictures of other books she may want to buy if she ever comes back before moving onto the next section. She is surprised when she sees cook books. Some of them looked to be almost self-published, with white paper and easy designs on the front with spiral spines, but there were others that looked more professional. Almost all of them declared that they held a variety of kosher-based recipes. She picks up one that has a spiral spine and dark green cover, the one where it looked like it came out of a household printer. Looking at the cover and going through the books, seeing the variety of food recipes it held and some of the pictures there is something about it that just screamed home-cooking. Like something her mother may have gotten from a relative. Maybe she could try making some of the simple recipes.

Wanda sets it in her stack against her before slowly walking around the store, making her way to the wall of decorations and table of items. She briefly looks over the DVDs they had as small as the section was. It was mostly just different documentaries, and none of them particularly caught her attention, but she made a mental note of them as well if she ever came back.

When she has made her way through all of the shelves, Wanda continues with quiet steps towards the decorations. She looks along the walls to see bags of different white, blue, and sometimes gold banners. There were also a few outline decorations of lit menorahs that were either of lights or a type of garland. There were even a few wreaths or just general bags of differ blue garlands.

As her eyes trail down, she looks over the menorahs and other items on the tables below. On a smaller sectioned table there were things like plastic placements with festive themes, as well as glasses and plates with blue and other Hannukah themes. Most of the table, however, was filled with different styles of menorahs. They were all varying colours of silver, blue, black and gold. Most of them were tall and in a style that looked like an upside-down rainbow, but there were others that were short and the same size, going in a row one after another, and there was one that looked almost like it was a tree with branches coming out. A few had the Star of David on them as well. Scattered around the table were also packs of candles together, either small and round or tall and thin.

Each item either had a small triangle sticker on them or attached to them with a string telling them the price. She looks over the numbers and feels her stomach sink slightly. Some of them weren’t incredibly expensive, but it was more the idea of just looking at them, feeling a sense of familiarity yet so much distance. It was almost as though she was scared to touch them.

“We have oil-based ones too!”

Wanda immediately looks over her shoulder at the cashier, almost startled. Evidently, the two women at the cashier desk before had left. Wanda shakes her head and tries to smile. “It’s alright…I’m just looking,” she tells her.

The woman nods again, looking curious, but doesn’t say anything. Wanda turns away again, taking one last look at a black menorah, one that was tall with light designs in it, almost like vines before she moves and turns slightly, looking along the walls again.

As she steps along she notices that the rest of the customers have left. It was just the two women and the music, and for some reason that felt much more comforting.

Wanda soon makes her way along the jewelry. She only means to walk by it, just looking at what happened to be there. However, her eye catches a particular silver necklace. It’s a small silver chain necklace with a medium sized, thin, silver Star of David pendant. She picks up the box carefully, staring over the necklace again. It was simple, but beautiful. Her eyes also graze over to the price and she frowns slightly. It was definitely more than the coffees that she had gotten with Sam, even if she got a sandwich or muffin with it because she was hungry. But then again, so were the books still tucked against her.

Pursing her lips, she sighs and moves the necklace closer to her. It wasn’t like she bought a lot of things for herself, especially anything new that she didn’t need. Sure there were the plants she had in her room at the compound, and the guitar and globe she happened to find at a used-goods store was the only other thing she really bought that seemed out of the way of necessity. But it was nice, really nice. And it wasn’t something that she ever had before.

Wanda turns and walks to the cashier, still silent. The woman looks up at her and pushes off of the counter so that she is ready when Wanda sets the books and necklace on the counter beside the cash machine. The woman offers the younger brunette a smile and picks up the box with the necklace inside. The woman’s smile widens slightly and tells her as she begins to punch in the price on the machine, “this is so pretty. We ordered a few when we found the seller. They are quite popular.”

Wanda nods in agreement, smiling softly as she looks over the necklace. “Yes, she agrees, “it’s really nice.”

The woman nods again and after putting in the price, she takes the lid from the bottom of the box to place it on the top. She sets it down before grabbing the books. She takes one up at a time, punching in the price of those as well as she begins to talk more to Wanda.

“What synagogue do you attend? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” the woman asks.

Wanda already feels her throat closing up. She obviously didn’t recognize Wanda, or if she did she was still trying to get more information to fuel her curiosity. She tries to clear it, but no sound comes out. She thought about maybe lying, saying how she was a family member just visiting for the holidays, but that didn’t seem right. And what would the use be anyway?

“I don’t attend one, actually. I’m not….I’m not really a part of the faith like that. I didn’t really know where to start. I’m still learning. I just found this store online and thought…maybe I could start myself into it,” Wanda explains, her voice getting quieter and softer with almost every word.

The woman just nods as she listens, not just an absent nod to make it seem like you were listening to someone’s rambles. Wanda could see she was nodding as a way to take in all of Wanda’s information. She keeps tapping in the prices of the books, picking up each one at a time and flipping to the back to see it. At the end of it, she looks at Wanda and gives her a soft smile.

“I’m glad you came in today, then,” she tells Wanda before moving to grab a white plastic bag, carefully putting her books and necklace inside.

“And, if you are looking, there is a really good, small building not too many blocks away. It’s a really small synagogue that mostly holds youth and young adult group gatherings, but it does have regular Shabbat services; they mostly follow Modern Orthodox teachings. Compared to the larger synagogues the attendance is rather small, but the Rabbi, Simon Saperstein is really great. He created the church for people…” the woman stops, and Wanda knows that she’s trying to find the right words, her hand still on the last book she would put in the bag, “for people, well more young people, who may not have as strong connections or history with their Jewish faith.”

Wanda could understand the words between the lines and she looks down. Was it that obvious? Oddly though, she didn’t feel offended. It wasn’t exactly relief, but there was something…comforting about the words.

“I’ll think about it,” Wanda tells her politely, smiling lightly. “Thank you.”

Before Wanda realized that she was doing, the other woman must’ve pulled out a drawer and pulls out a pen and white note-pad. Wanda watches as she quickly scribbles something down. After, Wanda peers a little closer when the woman’s hand moves away when she finishes. It looks like an address. “That’s the address of the building. It’s rather small, but it’s remade and has grey bricks so it’ll be more noticeable when you’re looking for it.”

Before Wanda could agree and thank her, the woman had already folded the paper and placed it in the plastic bag.

“Also,” the lady told her, moving on again before Wanda could say something, pressing a nail to the cook book in the bag, “there is a really good bakery not too far away you should try. It’s closed now of course, but it’s Yonah Shimmel’s Knish Bakery. It’s all kosher and tastes amazing.”

Wanda smiles, and nods, making sure to try and keep the name of the bakery tabbed in her mind, “thank you.”

After Wanda gets her total and takes her card out of her pocket and pays, the other woman smiles and lifts the plastic bag over the counter to Wanda.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around again,” she says, “I’m Deborah, by the way.”

Wanda nods and gives Deborah a smile, moving to grab the plastic bag.

“Maybe,” Wanda tells her, “and I’m Wanda.”

Deborah nods and smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the older woman tells her.

Wanda nods one more time, almost awkwardly before she tells her a quick bye and leaves the store.

The sudden night air is cold and Wanda has to let her eyes adjust again when she steps out of the shop. The sidewalk was still mostly abandoned. There were a few couples or groups walking across the street, one man walking by her but barely giving her any notice.

She stands out in the open, still in front of the store, almost dazed. She knew the steps that she should take next. She would take out her phone, bring up her calling app, and press the screen to redial the number of the taxi company she used to get here, go back to the Tower, and go up to her room.

But yet she just stood there, not completely sure why.

Looking down at the plastic bag, Wanda stares at it for a few moments before she uses her other hand to reach inside, not searching for long before her fingers grasped what they were looking for. Still using one hand, she brings the paper out and unfolds the note, reading over the addressed written down on it, the name of the rabbi written in the right top corner.

She stares at it for a long time. She knew it was a little later, and it was a week day. She didn’t even know if it would be ‘open’, or rather that anyone would be there. And even if she could go in, then what? She doubted that there would be a worship service happening, and maybe it would just be awkward to have a stranger look around their synagogue. But perhaps she could just look, make sure that she knew where it was and that she could find it.

Slipping the plastic bag more up her one wrist, Wanda takes the phone out of her pocket and brings out her map app again. She puts in the address as quickly as she can and has the app plan a route she could take. She may as well see how far away that it was. Deborah said that it wasn’t, but maybe she could see if it was a walkable distance.

Turned out that it was.

According to the map on her phone the synagogue was only a few blocks away, and the estimated walking time was about twenty minutes.

Wanda takes another look at the time on her phone. It was still early in the night even if the sky was dark. She knew all the other Avengers would still be up, likely having a small stack by now and were probably still decorating the rooms and starting on the tree.

Wanda stares at the map for a few minutes, standing in the cold of the street, knowing that she likely looked weird to Deborah still in the store behind her or to anyone who was walking by her.

But she counts how many blocks she would have to walk to her right, places the phone in her pocket, and sees the buildings and vehicles around her moving before she realizes that she is walking.

As Wanda walks down the lightly snow dusted streets, she makes sure to be aware of her surroundings. She was used to doing it all her life, but she also knew that New York was host to lots of different people walking along the streets at night. She kept her hands out of her pockets, even her bag still held on her wrist so that she could have her fingers ready in case someone came too close. Walking by a few people as she went down the streets, she could faintly sense them as well, making sure to know if she would need to guard herself, and there were a few people she got a little nervous about, but she had quickly passed them, not looking back and making sure to hear for any steps following her. Mostly, though, the streets were empty except for a few people, and they didn’t set off any alarms.

When she got to the end of her four blocks, Wanda quickly takes a glance around for anyone who could come up to her before she takes out her phone. Double checking the route, Wanda looks down the street to her left for a few seconds before she begins to walk down it. According to Google, she only had a block and a half before she would be at her destination.

She’s not too many steps in down the street before she begins to feel more comfortable. The street was more quiet, but not in a hair-standing-up way but rather in a peaceful way. There was a calmness in the atmosphere. She wondered if maybe there were a lot of kind people living around the block, or if it just happened to be one of those spaces.

She walks in silence, her footsteps on the sidewalk almost echoing all down the block. She was pretty sure that she was the only person out along the street. She could see light coming out of the windows, usually flickering yellow and she feels a bit of comfort in that. While the street was quiet, there wasn’t an edge that made her feel worried. And to see the flickering lights…for the first time it didn’t make her feel sick, or dread, or like she was missing Pietro’s comfort. The flickering lights almost made her feel closer to him, and she almost wanted to get drunk on that feeling.

She wasn’t down the second block too long before she sees a smaller, grey bricked building, just as Deborah said. It stuck out slightly from the brown and red bricks all along the block, and because of the sign beside the door, almost like a doctor’s office. The only difference was that a Star of David was beside the title.

The building was short, not as long as the others, and not as tall either. She could tell the brick was relatively new, especially in consideration to the housing around it. They must’ve done renovations not too long ago. The building mostly went straight up since it was a building closely sandwiched between others, but a few stories up it changed to almost two towers with a triangle point in the middle. Not too far up from the door, which took almost eight steps to get there, there was a large half circle window with three sections in it. There were also medium sized circular windows with some sort of design she couldn’t make out in the darkness on either side of the larger half circle window, almost in the middle of what would be the two towers. Above each though, more stories up were just normal rectangle windows like in all the other houses.

It was beautiful, even in the darkness.

Wanda didn’t know how long she spent staring up at the building in the quiet street. She stared at the door, the large doors that almost looked heavy. There were lights coming through the windows a little above the door. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a soft glow.

She never felt so drawn to a building before. She knew there was nothing spectacular about it. She had seen many more extravagant and beautiful synagogues. And she knew that walking into the synagogue wouldn’t make her sudden problems with religion would disappear, or that when she entered she’d see Pietro at the end of the aisle and ready to run into her arms.

But there was something there. Something that made her feel comfortable and safe, and she hadn’t felt something like that in a long time. Lately, that had been the people she was mostly interacting with now.

And there was something else, like a light air of a feeling of Pietro around her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda makes her feet walk up the stairs. Her hand soon reaches out to the knob at the door and she takes another breath before she pulls it open.

As she steps inside, Wanda’s breath is almost taken away again.

The synagogue had a high ceiling, and in the low light the walls looked like a darker brown, but she knew they would be closer to a grey when the sun would come up. There was an aisle between two sides of benches and down the aisle was a long red rug. There were only two long ones on each side and they went about sixteen rows deep. There was also a second story balcony on each side, not reaching out completely over the two benches on each side. There were lights along the bottom of that floor that came out. At the front she could see the raised level with the large chair and other service requirements, two golden doors on either side of the chair.

Slowly, Wanda looked up and around the features of the synagogue as she walked down the aisle. Her steps also lightly echoed on this floor as well, more of her weight going on the floor in thumps despite the rug she walked on. The benches were a beautiful wood and she found her fingers trailing the tops of the benches as she walked past them. Her eyes begin to see the details of the designs that came closer to the ceiling of the synagogue, slowly moving up the walls and getting more extravagant with every couple of feet up.

Wanda turns as she looks around, her mouth open in slight awe. She hadn’t seen something so beautiful since….

…since she was with Pietro all those years ago.

“Can I help you?”

Wanda jumps, eyes darting quickly to the location of the voice. Her eyes are instantly met with an older middle-aged man with old oval glasses with a brown beard and moustache that had strands of white in it. By the way that he was dressed, she could easily identify he was the rabbi that Deborah was talking about. This must’ve been Simon. He had very kind eyes.

“Sorry,” Wanda instantly answers, hoping that her voice didn’t shake. “I was just looking around. Someone just told me about this place and I just…I guess I wanted to see it myself.”

Her eyes stay on the rabbi, and she watches his face slowly fall from his alarmed curiosity to an easy warmth. It helped Wanda’s heart rate decrease.

“Ah, I see,” his voice is very calm and warm as well.

Wanda nods lightly, pursing her lips lightly. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to come in.”

The rabbi shakes his head, walking away from the doorway that he came from at the side of the room not too far away from the front bench.

“That’s quite alright,” he tells her, moving to walk along the front bench. “But, if I may ask just for my own curiosity, who did tell you about this place?”

Wanda looks down and then back up at him, holding up her plastic bag as well.

“Deborah…she didn’t tell me her last name. At the store just a few blocks from here,” Wanda replies. She doesn’t realize how much her voice echos even when it is soft.

She watches the man’s warm smile widen and there was almost a glint in his eye.

“Ah, Deborah. Yes, I know her quite well. Her nephew attends the groups here often,” the rabbi says.

Wanda nods.

After a moment’s pause, the older man smiles and tells her, “I’m Simon, Simon Saperstein.”

Wanda nods once again, already beginning to drift closer to him as she walks further down the aisle.

“I’m Wanda,” she introduces, giving him a small, somewhat shy smile.

Simon nods and tells her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda,” he says. As she comes closer, he takes a step closer to her as well and asks, “can I help you with anything?”

Wanda shakes her head.

“No, no, like I said I was just looking around. Your synagogue is quite beautiful,” Wanda tells him.

Simon smiles and takes a look around himself.

“Yes, definitely,” he replies. “We did a complete renovation about twelve years ago after we had a terrible leak during a heavy storm. But,”

Simon takes a look at her again and Wanda can feel his direct attention on her. It was a type of curiosity, but also as though he was reading her in a way that he had done before.

“it is late at night. Most people have gone home by this time, and are continuing with their Hannukah festivities.”

At the mention of the holiday, Wanda almost stills and gulps. She looks down and shrugs.

“Not me,” she replies, her voice even softer than what it was before.

Simon nods, a face showing that he was almost pondering her answer. While Wanda suddenly felt out of place, and maybe even sick, she still didn’t feel the ultimate need to rush out of the building and run off.

“Are you Jewish?” he asks. “I know you are in a synagogue, but many different people come in here.”

Wanda nods, smiling slightly.

“Yet you’re not celebrating?” he raises an eyebrow.

She looks down, the smile slowly fading from her face again.

“No,” she admits.

Simon nods almost thoughtfully before he looks down at the bench.

“Would you like to sit down? I’m assuming you walked here. You can give your feet a rest,” Simon tells her.

Wanda stares at the bench for a few moments. Maybe she should leave, but that seemed almost rude now. He had started a conversation, and it would seem rude to suddenly leave. And it seemed cowardly, just to up and go after he started asking a few personal questions.

She finally nods, still a little nervously before she moved to the front of the synagogue, sitting at the bench Simon stood in front of. After she sits down, he slowly lowers himself beside her, sitting quietly. After almost a minute of silence, she realizes that he is waiting for her to start, waiting until she is ready.

“My brother died almost half a year ago, and it’s my first Hannukah without him,” Wanda whispers. The does not hear the strain in her voice, almost like there was a silent plead beneath the words. She purses her lips, looking down slightly. Just thinking of him made the ache in her fall deeper into her heart. “And it’s hard. I knew it would be, but…oddly enough it’s not the worse part of this time of year. When it first happened, I was a mess. I had meltdowns and panic attacks. I felt like I was drowning. Our mother died, violently, when we were young. We were twins, and our home was destroyed, we became orphans of the streets, literally all we had was each other. He was always there. And after his death…I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I never felt worse than those first couple of months. I even had a very serious breakdown. I was at the hospital for almost a week.”

Wanda takes a breath, she doesn’t look up to see Simon’s face of gentle empathy and doesn’t realize she is almost shaking.

“But time heals wounds, and I had some great friends to help me. Friends I know that I don’t even deserve. Now it’s just…a deep ache. One I always feel and some days that cut feels deeper than others. But during those times I think I just got the worse of it out of me. I thought about the fact he wouldn’t be here for our birthday, for holidays. I think I got it out of my system…or I really have buried that hatchet deeper than I know,” Wanda rambles, wiping at her eyes. “And I guess…I’m trying to find ways to get closer to him, and to my mother. But I’m finding that is a much harder wound to overcome.”

She feels her hands shake and she tries to rub them together.

“Why is that?” Simon asks gently. “You do not need to explain to me more than you want to, but it seems like you need an outlet for what you are feeling. They seem to be incredibly strong.”

Wanda lets out an airy, shaky laugh as she wipes at her eyes again. Maybe she was numb to the pain of Pietro’s death and absence by now, but not to everything.

“Like practicing Confession?” Wanda almost laughs.

Simon lets out a small laugh as well.

“Not quite,” he replies softly. “I do believe Confession is a confession of sins, not of your feelings. And if you were atoning for your sins, then it would be a private experience for you.”

Wanda nods, smiling lightly.

“But if you wish to unburden yourself of your thoughts, then you may wish to do so. It seems as though they are quite heavy,” his words are gentle in their prodding, more wrapped around a voice of comfort.

She wondered if she had already said too much. She had just walked in here and already was going on about her troubles to a poor Rabbi who had only met her a few minutes ago. And, importantly, a Rabbi who didn’t know about her true heritage. She knew how many had later stuck up their nose at her, or eagerly wished to unintentionally insult her by making comments or trying to get her to change her faith preference within the Jewish community.

But there was something comforting about the synagogue, and not just because it was a place of worship. It went beyond that, and she knew that. And Simon felt safe not just to be around but to talk to. there was something inviting of his presence, even immediately. And perhaps deep down there was a part of her that wanted to talk about it.

“I still feel him,” Wanda tells him, her voice soft. Would he think she is crazy? Or so much of a cliche he brushes it off because he didn’t know Wanda’s abilities, that she could sense things around her far more than the average human. “Maybe that helped me with my healing after my worst days. Maybe it’s why I’m not so broken now…now I’m just….”

She takes in and lets out a long breath while Simon waits silently and patiently.

“Lost,” she admits.

Simon nods, taking in all the information of her past and of her brother to get further context before he lightly pushed her on. Even if she didn’t know, he knew that there was more.

“Lost is an interesting word,” he comments, “more because I don’t think it completely replies to the loss of your brother, of which I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to lose a loved one.”

Wanda nods, sniffing lightly. She still feels short of breath from a feeling of something wanted to completely eat her whole, like slowly drowning her into a black whole. But, she wanted to explain.

“Because I don’t have anything to really tie me to him anymore…or anyone. I left my home country and he is buried there. We never had many possessions. All I have is a few of his sweaters. We never had any traditions, we really couldn’t growing up. We could never celebrate the holidays, and even if we could I doubt we would know how. We lost our mother and her traditions long ago, and my mother lost her’s before we were even born,” Wanda gulps, still looking down.

“And now I’m here. And I’m bombarded with constant Christian-based culture. I’m here and I’m the only one who is Jewish out of the group I’m in. I see them decorating around the Tower—our living space,” she quickly tries to cover herself, “and participating in traditions that I’ve seen before but never participated in. And it’s almost like a club, one that they all automatically are a part of and I’m just sitting on the outside. They have something that grounds them to their history and traditions and I’m just in limbo.

“They ask me to participate and I know that they do it to include me and to be kind, just tonight they asked if I wanted to help decorate the Christmas tree. I still feel lost. I feel like if I do it, it won’t actually be me. I don’t know how to properly decorate the rooms and windows with flashing lights and where to place stockings and stuffed Santas. I don’t know how to decorate a tree, or I do but…but it’s not the same. Because I never celebrated Christmas before because I’m Romani-Jewish! And I can’t even bring my own traditions to them, or just participate with them on my own and try to feel closer to my brother and mother because I don’t even know them!”

She stills. She knows she went too far. She didn’t want to say that much.

Her head falls a little more and she grows silent.

A few seconds later she feels Simon’s warm hand slowly take hers. She knew that he moved carefully so that he wouldn’t startle her as he took it.

She knew she should leave. She overstepped and said too much, likely far more than what he ever wanted to hear. He was probably having a good night until she came.

But she didn’t want to leave, and perhaps that was the most startling thing of all.

“Romani-Jewish?” Simon comments quietly, considering.

Wanda winces, bracing herself. Which reaction of the two would he give her?

“That is a very small group, even in New York,” Simon comments, his voice still soft for her benefit. “And you’re not from around here. It sounds like you made quite a big culture change immigrating here.”

She wasn’t even sure ‘immigrant’ was the right word.

“It is in S—where I’m from too,” Wanda explains, her voice still soft as well. “My mother was never able to fit into a group because of her heritage, so we never had any of those bonds growing up…most looked down on us.”

She sees Simon nod in the corner of her eye.

“I know that can be difficult,” Simon agrees and Wanda knows that it’s not from words of trying to imagine her feelings or say it to make her feel heard.

For the first time she felt like she was talking to someone who wasn’t just listening, but who was able to understand and relate to what she was saying. Maybe it was the fact he was a Rabbi and would have heard people’s feelings about losing a loved one before, but it was more than that. Sam had that background too, but she felt that Simon would understand more than Sam. Maybe it was the past that despite only meeting him minutes ago that he didn’t seem at all bothered to be away from what he was doing, but genuinely interested to help her understand her own feelings.

“Do your friends know your heritage?” Simon asks.

Wanda shakes her head. “No…I haven’t told them. And…I guess that they just assumed I’m from some Christian sect, or just a person who celebrates Christmas.”

“Why haven’t you told them? It seems like they are a group of people who would at least be open to learn and include your customs.”

Wanda pauses. Just how long would he be able to talk with her if he let her keep going?

“It’s….” Wanda didn’t even know where to start.

“It’s not just that I’m Jewish, and that I’d be the only Jewish person of heritage there, let along the Romani part of my heritage,” Wanda tries to begin. “It’s also the fact that they have a history together. Some of them have known each other for years. Their bonds are much closer and I just came on the scene only months ago…and it wasn’t a great start either. I mean, I’m more than glad that they opened their arms to me. I know that I don’t deserve it, especially after what they have done for me since.”

She looks down, still unsure about how they came to warm up to her so quickly. She knew that Clint had helped, but she knew what she had done. Perhaps they were forgiving and hopeful people more than she realized, maybe they just saw something in her. Whatever it was, she still wasn’t sure that she deserved it.

“I’m already the odd one out. I’m different than them…” Wanda bites her lip then shrugs. “I guess the reason why I haven’t told them is because I don’t want to be more different than I already am from them.”

Simon nods and he then smiles lightly.

“And distancing yourself from their holiday festivities is helping to overcome that difference, yes?” He asked, looking over at her and giving her a smile.

Wanda snorts lightly, shaking her head as a smile forms on her face without her realizing it.

“Yeah, exactly,” Wanda agrees, her body still shaking in the echos of her light chuckles.

After their laughter subsides, Simon looks back over at her, a light but curious smile on his face.

“So why don’t you—,” he is cut off when there are footsteps that echo into the synagogue getting louder and louder with each step.

Both Wanda and Simon’s heads and gaze move towards the sound. It leads her to a doorway near the alter. She watches as a boy, maybe a year or two older than her and wearing a long, oversized sweater that certainly didn’t look like traditional garments she guessed a person would wear to a synagogue, come up to the door. He looks like he has something on his mind, and had a plan in action when he looks up and suddenly spots the two of them sitting at the front bench. The boy immediately stopped, eyes widening to show his surprise. The more he came into the light, the more she could see his tanned-like skin. He was fairly tall too.

“Oh…sorry, Simon I didn’t realize you had company,” the boy’s nerves were heard in his voice.

The rabbi only smiled warmly to him, his eyes gentle and comforting.

“It’s alright, Ben,” he promises, “I will be back down momentarily. Is there anything urgent you need.”

The boy shakes his head, looking down shyly. “No,” he replies, “sorry, again, Simon. I didn’t mean to disrupt anything.”

Simon just smiles and tells him, his voice still gentle and calming, “I will be down there in time. And do not worry yourself, Ben.”

The boy nods, smiling lightly as though he was comforted but nerves still held his body. She knew the feeling. And she knew that she shouldn’t be thinking of it, but a small part of her wondered if he was taking medication for anxiety too.

“Okay,” Ben answers, nodding a few times before he turns around, walking back down where he came. Wanda could tell that he was actively trying to not go too fast or slow. She could hear the echo of his steps again. The echos came a little deeper. He was going down stairs.

Wanda stares after him when he leaves, slightly confused. Simon catches her attention again when his voice cuts through the silence.

“Each night I have a youth group that comes over, as well as some people who stay in our spare rooms here. Attendance gets a little bigger around the holidays and winter months,” Simon explains. “They usually like to play group games of dreidel around this time.”

The image of a dreidel pops up in her mind, and soon does the image of people around a table, smiling and having bowls ready; like the image from the store. She imagines that music may be playing too, but she doesn’t hear it from up here.

“You let teens stay here?” Wanda asked, turning to look back at him.

Simon nods. “Not a lot of kids come from good home lives and need a safe place to stay.  Or sometimes the group runs late and some need a place for the night.The group helps those who need company with other people who are also Jewish, like if they are in the foster system and the family they are with is not Jewish. Or there are kids who come from Jewish families who want the extra company.”

She nods, slightly surprised. This didn’t seem like the type of religious organization that she was familiar with. The ones in Sokovia she had known were strict, and certainly didn’t offer warmth like this to people who might need that help with their connection. And it didn’t seem like that when she heard of how synagogues were run in America either. Or perhaps she just had bad experiences clouding her view. But it didn’t seem like many places were open to Romani Jewish people here either.

Maybe the lady did know what she was looking for.

“But back to my question,” Simon smiles, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. Wanda is still nervously stiff, “why don’t you share your traditions and culture with them? They seem like they would be very open.”

Wanda pauses, feeling…something creeping up in her. She didn’t know what it was, but it was like an icy hand coming up her stomach along her spine, feeling as though it was choking her on the inside of her throat. Something that made her stomach feel like it was falling for eternity.

“I…” Wanda shrugs, her throat feeling tight and suddenly dry. “I guess because I don’t really know them myself.”

She looks over at Simon and expects to see an expression of confusion or shock, but instead she sees nothing unwavering from slightly curious understanding.

“Do you want to explain?” he asked, his tone gentle but inviting.

Wanda doesn’t realize that her stare goes blank until she tries to see something and just sees white blur. When she realizes it, she blinks a few times and looks down embarrassed, but Simon only waited patiently while she gathered her thoughts.

Finally shifting nervously, Wanda gulped, hoping that her breathing didn’t feel too heavy.

“My parents were both in the Holocaust,” Wanda admits, and she feels the imaginative dark clouds almost instantly begin to come over them. What wasn’t imagination though was how she felt the air immediately tense slightly, or maybe it was just her. “Auschwitz. It was the only detail my mom would give me. She just said it was a bad place, but when she was alive I was only a kid so she didn’t tell me much. It wasn’t until I was older that I really began to learn about everything.”

Simon nods, and somehow it gave Wanda some comfort to continue.

“My father was there too. She didn’t ever tell me much about him. She said they used to see each other as kids sometimes, and then met again at the camp when they were older. Both of them survived, but my brother and I never met him, at least not that I ever knew of. I remember that my mom said that she left him while she was pregnant. She said that he was…” she looks down a little, were her hands knotting and squirming together this whole time? She tries to still them. “That he was too damaged by what happened. As a kid I never really thought about it. He was never in my life, it wasn’t like there was an absence and as I got older I understood both my parents, at least in theory perspective.”

Simon nods again, looking at her and for Wanda realized that he wasn’t just listening and letting her talk her thoughts out. He was understanding. She could see it in his eyes, sense it as she stayed close to him.

“After what happened my mother was the only family we had. Whenever we tried to ask her questions she would immediately shut down. I didn’t realize why until I was older too. It was just us three and whatever people we conversed with, but we were really alone,” Wanda said, almost saying outlaid the memories that came to mind.

“I had family who were taken to concentration camps too; Plaszow. They lived in the Krakow ghetto. At the end of the war, I realize in researching that my family tree leads to sudden dead ends. The Nazis tried to get rid of all records. Auschwitz was the closest camp, but I know that some were also sometimes taken to Belzec. I don’t expect I’ll ever know where some of my family found their last days, but I know what you mean. Family becomes smaller, and in your case, incredibly so,” Simon explained. His tone was soft, level.

Wanda nods herself, not noticing how her shoulders were becoming less and less square.

“It wasn’t that big to begin with. My brother and I were always on the outside. Even as a family we didn’t have a big part of our Jewish community in the Sokovia, which was smaller in itself. Considering my mom was Romani Jewish, there was a lot of prejudice against her. Whatever community she was apart of was gone or moved off to a different place. She lost a lot of her roots too, and she didn’t have a safe place to try and anchor herself down,” Wanda explained.

“They are a very small community,” Simon agreed and that surprised Wanda. Usually she heard the arguments of surprised people asking if they actually existed or saying something along the line of ‘oh, so your family converted’. They were their own community. Simon brings her out of her thoughts by continuing, “there are a couple of teens who attend that identify as that as well.”

That surprised her. She had read about people who were Romani Jewish, but she never met any of them before. She’s met Jewish kids and Romani kids in Sokovia both before and after her mother’s death, but she never knew any kids who were Romani Jewish, and she hadn’t been in America that long to really branch out past the Avengers. She knew there were others, but they always felt so far from her. Her eyes darted to where the teen had gone back down to the centre part of the church. She wondered if he was one of them. She felt a sudden longing and fear as she stared at the door.

“I…” Wanda’s mouth felt dry and she tried to gulp. “I don’t even know if I could connect with them either,” she admits. “My mother’s roots and traditions weren’t that deep, and my brother and I weren’t that old before we were cut from those.”

She bites her lip, feeling a sudden isolation again. Left out of everywhere, lost to every part of her identity she never got to grow into. But in the corner of her eye, she can see that Simon is still listening intently and it gives her the comfort she needs to explain her thoughts.

“After what happened to them I guess religion in their lives changes. How could it not? For some people they held onto it more than ever, they believe that it saved them or believe that it was all they had. For others they completely drop it, it’s what got them in that situation in the first place and the scars of it all left that part of them to die. And for others, it just…fades. Maybe it’s unconsciously and maybe it isn’t, but it just happens,” Wanda thinks out loud. It was something she had thought about for a long time, even years. “I think that’s what happened to my mom. When we were born she tried to hold on to a few for us, but I think she did it for us. Her heart wasn’t in it like before, not that I blame her.”

Simon continues to nod, lost in his own thought, but he is also making a facial expression that non-verbally seems to say ‘that makes sense’.

“When something that dramatic happens, people live with trauma in their own ways,” Simon agreed. “Growing up and through my job I have seen all the ways you describe.”

Wanda nods along as well.

“And I’m guessing with what happened to you, it makes things very difficult around the holidays, with or without the aspect of un-connecting traditions,” Simon continues. “Do you fall under any of those categories?”

Wanda has to think for a moment.

“Maybe I’m one of those who had it drift away, even if consciously,” Wanda ponders out loud. “Or maybe there is another group, those who are in the fallout. Of those in the aftermath of having loved ones give up their traditions or have them fade away. I’m not sure if that applies to me though.”

She didn’t know if she had lived with her mother for a longer time before the bomb struck if she would feel any differently, or if the bomb never struck. Maybe her mother would’ve found a way to reconnect with her heritage, or they would’ve found a group that they could be a part of. Would things have turned out differently? And even if the bomb never struck, but they were still disconnected, would she ever feel as lost as she felt all these years?

Maybe she was all wrong.

Sensing her small confusion and her brain deep in though, Simon cleared his throat lightly to catch her attention again. When Wanda looked at him, she saw a type of smile that was…almost wise. Gentle but somehow held something of thought ready to burst like gentle air into a suffocatingly dense room.

“I think one of the dilemmas that you are facing is that, while everything you said is true, you are thinking of traditions in strictly the religious way,” he replied. “And while they are important for some people, especially those that yearn for them as you do, traditions aren’t just religious. It’s not religious for Jewish people to cook latkes for Hannukah, just like how it isn’t religious for a Anglican Christian family to bake cookies every year, or buy matching pyjamas to wear Christmas Eve.”

Wanda almost snorts. She couldn’t help herself as images popped into her head.

“Some of them are awful,” Wanda couldn’t help herself. It was a sudden burst from the dense nerves she had and it felt both freeing and terrifying.

Simon just laughs lightly himself, nodding his head.

“Indeed,” he agrees, waiting for her laughter to die down before continuing, “the point being, there are people who aren’t religious who still practice traditions every holiday. And it seems that is something that could also bring great comfort to you.”

Wanda nods, feeling her stomach start to feel empty again, but this time not with dread. It was for something she wanted greatly.

“And it seems that your friends want you to be a part of that,” Simon continues, his voice gentle not in a way that he was worry she was fragile, but because he wanted her to think on the words.

Wanda bites her lip, but nods.

But the images still blossom again in her mind. All the things she associated about the holidays and Christmas, how those wounds never truly healed but only scabbed over. Her face darkens and drops.

The images of Wanda and Pietro on the streets during the holidays came up again, like a scratch on the scab begging to be indulged until it bled.

“I don’t have a lot of great memories about the holidays from living on the streets,” Wanda admits.

“I can’t even imagine,” Simon admits, “but it seems that they want to help you create good memories for you to fall back on, especially during your first holidays without your brother.”

Wanda nods.

“I know…but I just don’t really know how to be a part of it, and it’s all things that are for Christmas,” Wanda rambles lightly. She still remembered the hopeful face Steve gave her when he held out an ornament, and how Wanda told him she was rather hungry and went to the kitchen. Was it fair for them not to understand why she wasn’t doing it?

“And how can I be a part of something of another tradition, like decorating a Christmas tree? Even if they really want me to?” Wanda asks, the guilt slowly seeping into her.

She sees Simon shrug.

“So decorate the Christmas tree.”

Simon says it so simply that she looks over at him, completely shocked. He doesn’t look phased by it though. Instead, he sighs and shifts himself so that he is turned slightly more towards her and looks at her, truly looks at her and gives her nothing but the comfort of gentle focused attention.

“Traditionalists in my religion would want to spout words at me about this, but the truth is that there is more than one way to celebrate Hanukkah and the holidays. There are people who have the roots and feelings of family in their community to celebrate the complete traditional way. Everything by the book the exact same way we have been doing it for centuries. Block by block, specific times to do ceremonies, where they should happen, what verses to say, what exact words to share the story, what you must eat or must not eat, even right down to how far away you are from religious objects when reciting something,” Simon says, waving his hand and shaking his head.

“And there are some that do the same traditions more loosely, but in general pretty much by the book. To them, it has meaning and comfort and love. But then, and I don’t mean this in a way to hurt, but there are people like you.”

Wanda stares up at him, biting her lip and her chest feeling heavy. It wasn’t from him singling her out, but because she knew the truth in her head and somehow completely giving into it was like opening up a long unhealed battle wound that hurt more in opening the scar than the knife that was pushed in.

“And then there are the people who see that and either don’t know what to feel or don’t feel for it at all. The people who didn’t get to know and live and experience their own history and identity.  Where they see that something that should bring them comfort and roots just creates a deeper and deeper hole in themselves, perhaps even worse if they yearn for it and are denied it,” Simon continues, seeing her lip begin to tremble. Wanda bites it to try and keep it steady. “Where trauma or a lack of stability have left them a loss for that traditionalist ideal.”

“Religion and holidays are not cut and paste, and I’ve really realized that after getting to know some of the kids I work with. What many people forget, or don’t realize at all, is that the holidays, even religion, is not just about the traditions of a community or identity or even the obedience of it. It’s about the connections. What use is tradition if you don’t have or even want that connection to the action. It’s lifeless, it means nothing. It’s not what you celebrate, it’s how you do it and how you connect to it and to the people around you. In the end, Hanukah is still Hanukah even without all the candles and games and food. Same as Christmas without the decorated tree and presents. Or it’s still your birthday even without the birthday cake,” Simon explained.

Wanda nodded, understanding what he meant. Perhaps she did lose sight of that part. Maybe it was just her childhood memories that made her long for those special little physical parts, that she wanted to connect not just to the spiritual part, but to the physical aspects of it too, the parts that she could physically see when her and Pietro would look into the windows of Jewish homes.

“It’s about what it means to you. And if you don’t know, my dear, then explore and find connections to help you find what it means to you,” Simon tells her gently. “I really don’t think it’ll be a … betrayal of your heritage to decorate a Christmas tree, because for you I don’t think it would be a religious aspect, it would be for the connections you have with your friends.”

Wanda keeps nodding, pursing her lips.

“And as for the Hanukkah connections, it is never too late to explore and create that connection it may have, no matter how big or small. And I know how much harder this time of year can be when you are missing someone dear to you,” his voice is soft, gentle. He brings a hand forward slowly that she can see it, but Wanda is still surprised by how soft and warm his calloused hands are on her slightly trembling one.

She bit her lip so hard that she remembered to let it go when she began to feel pain in it. She sniffles once more before feeling something tickle down her cheek. Wanda immediately brings up her free hand and wipes at her eyes and cheeks.

“Isn’t it a couple of days into lighting the candles of the menorah?” Wanda had to cough to make sure her voice didn’t tremble. “Didn’t I…isn’t it too late to start?”

In the corner of her eye, she sees Simon shake his head.

“It is never too late,” he promises. “Some people would say differently, but some people do not understand that not everyone is as lucky to have something stable and concrete. It’s not about starting ‘on time’ dear, is that you want to be a part of it.”

Wanda nods again, letting out another sniffle and she blinks a few times to try and control the wetness in her eyes.

“You…” when her voice wavers again, she gulps trying to take control of it again, not realizing that her hand was squeezing his a little tighter. She tries again after a few seconds, “you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Simon nods, giving her a gentle and comforting smile. And, to her surprise, she did feel comforted by it.

“If you don’t know where to start, then you can research and look around,” Simon encourages, his voice still soft. “There are books, blogs, even videos that explain stories and prayers for the menorah and other things like that. There is no way to go wrong when learning or opening yourself when you start.”

Wanda nods. She takes in a deep shaking breath, staring down at her shoes for a little longer before she forces her eyes to look up at him. Simon is still giving her a gentle and warm smile, still holding her hand.

“I—”, she begins again but hears a loud chirping echo through the synagogue while feeling the buzzing against her thigh coming from her pocket at the same time. Wanda lets out a sound between a sigh and a laugh before her free hand moves to search her coat pocket.

“Sorry,” she tells him, fingers gripping the cell phone Tony had bought her a few months back.

Simon just smiles and shakes his head, putting up a hand to show that he was not offended. She nods and turns back to her phone, pressing the button at the bottom of the smart phone before seeing the message come up on the screen.

Vis: Are you alright? It is getting late. Everyone is getting mildly concerned.

A smile couldn’t hep but spark lightly upon her lips. Messages from Vision always did that, both because it was Vision and hearing from him always made her feel better and because his need to always use grammatically correct and formal language even if texting.

“It’s my friends,” Wanda tells him, moving to wipe her eyes and cheeks one final time to get the last of anything wet that may be on them. “I guess I should get going. I didn’t realize how late that it was getting.”

“Sometimes the night has a way of hiding the time,” Simon tells her.

Wanda nods and looks down for a little bit before she moves to get off the bench, grabbing hold of her plastic bag again. Simon follows, moving to walk her out. As she stands, taking everything that had happened in, she moves to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear so that she could look at Simon again. His eyes looked even kinder.

“Thank you, though,” Wanda tells him, a soft smile slowly blossoming to her lips. She begins to walk back up the aisle again, going slowly so that he could follow her. “I know that I said a lot. I didn’t realize how much I needed to let it all out.”

Simon just smiled softly at her as he walked beside her.

“In my profession, and after all my years working here, I can tell who needs a listening ear. Sometimes talking and being understood can do wonders,” he continues to smile to comfort her.

Wanda nods. As she gets closer to the door, she still feels the comfort of the atmosphere and of talking with Simon and she wishes that she didn’t have to leave so soon, but she knew that she should get back to the Tower, and let Simon have his night back.

When she reaches the door, Wanda turns back to Simon, a soft smile still on her lips.

“Thank you again,” Wanda tells him, grateful.

“I’m glad that I could help,” Simon tells her, “and, if you are interested, we have another youth night tomorrow. A lot of people around your age come in and they are going to be playing Dreidel. It’s more of a nightly thing now that Hannukah has started.”

Wanda slowly, thinking about the offer for a moment before she replies, “I might take you up on that, actually.” She gives him a small smile.

Simon smiles as well.

“I’m sure that the others would love to meet you,” he tells her.

Wanda nods. She actually felt…hopeful about it. And it was the first time in a long time she was looking towards something.

“We also have a small Shabbat service every Saturday. Not all of the youth members attend, as they will often go to their family synagogue, but a small group comes regularly if you would want to come as well,” Simon adds.

Wanda nods. “I’m not always in the city, but if I am, I might take you up on that offer as well.”

Simon smiles.

“I’m glad,” he tells her. “I hope to see you back here soon.”

Wanda nods. “I think I will. Thank you again.”

“I’m glad that you are feeling better. Goodnight, Wanda,” Simon tells her.

Wanda nods and gives him one last smile and look before she forces herself to open the door.

When she steps out, Wanda is back into the calmness of the night. She stands on the top step just outside the door for a few moments, looking around the street again before she slowly walks down to the bottom step, sitting down on it. She takes out her phone, calling for another taxi and giving the address before she hangs up and texts Vision back that she will be back at the Tower shortly. It was a nice night, and although Wanda knew that she could’ve stayed in the synagogue, she weirdly liked being out here too, looking up and down the street and up at the sky.

Even though it was still earlier in the night, Wanda isn’t waiting long before the yellow cab pulls up in front of the synagogue. As she sat in the back seat again, Wanda looked outside. There were less people on the streets than her first drive of the night. After a few minutes, she looks into her plastic bag and takes out the box. Placing the box on her lap, Wanda carefully takes the necklace out of it and puts it on her, smiling lightly once it is on. She moves the necklace so that it is under her coat, not realizing she also put it under her sweater as well.

She lets the cab drop her off a block or so away from the Tower before she gets out and walks the rest of the way, glad that this driver wasn’t as talkative or questioning as the other. Once in the Tower, she presses the button for the common room instead of buy-passing it just to go to her floor.

Once the elevator doors open all eyes immediately turn to her and she watches them slowly transform into a smile. All of them were crowded around the tree that was no longer bare. It was decorated with garland and bulb ornaments of various colours and sizes all along the tree. There was even a star on the top of the tree. It was still a little bare in some spots, but almost everyone had an ornament in their hand, Rhodey on a step latter to get to the top of the very tall and large tree.

“Hey!” they all greeted, smiles on their faces.

Wanda smiles back, stepping out of the elevator. She moves towards the group across the room, unbuttoning and unzipping her coat along the way. Once she takes it off, she sets it over one of the chairs at the island in the kitchenette area, setting her plastic bag on the chair as well.

“Where were you?” Natasha asks, moving to give Rhodey another ornament to place on the tree.

Wanda shrugs, “just went to a store and got a few things. Sorry for being later. I stopped somewhere else along the way and didn’t realize the time.”

“We’re just glad you didn’t make it back too late,” Pepper gave her a smile before directing Tony where he should put the current ornament in his hand.

Wanda nods and walks a little closer. She looks over at Sam and tells him, her voice not as loud, “actually…I took up your advice…and you were right. It did help a lot.”

Sam gives her a wider smile, “I’m glad.”

“Yeah, he’s got that ability. Kinda annoying sometimes, isn’t it?” Natasha pokes her head from the other side of the tree to give Sam a sly smile.

Wanda smiles but rolls her eyes. She turns to Steve and sees him taking out a box of ornaments that looked like glittered bells.

“Is that invitation to help still open?” Wanda asked him, offering him a smile.

Steve immediately looks up at her and slowly a smile forms on his face as well.

“Of course,” he tells her, taking a bell out of the packaging and handing it to her. Wanda takes it gently, as though worried the plastic would break.

“I just use one of those green hooks, right?” she asks.

Steve nods. After Wanda grabs one and hooks it to the ornament, the others help her find good places to put the bells among the other ornaments. The others couldn’t help but smile as they watched the smile on her face and how she laughed brightly with everyone’s jokes. It was as though she lost weight on her shoulders.

The next night when Wanda stepped out of the elevator and into the common area, she had a wide smile on her face and a larger white plastic bag in her hand, mostly full of a medium sized slender box but other smaller items as well.

The others turned their heads. A few of them were in the kitchen and despite it being almost 9 at night, Sam and Pepper looked to be making a cheese and meat plate while Rhodey was setting up a small fruit tray and Natasha was shaking popcorn from the microwavable bags into the bowls. Tony stood at the TV, Steve moving to set some of the bowls down on the coffee table.

“Just in time!” Steve told her from the living room. When he stood up tall, the lit and beautiful tree behind him was almost smaller than the super soldier.

“How was your night?” Sam asked, looking up at her with a hopeful smile.

Wanda gave him a confident one back. “It was a lot of fun. What’s all this?” She takes off her coat, gesturing to the food and setting up around them. She sets the bag on a chair by the island again.

“We’re going to be watching A Christmas Story,” Tony quickly explains, setting the remote down on the coffee table as well once he got the menu up for the movie on the tv. “Want to join?”

Wanda looks down at the plastic bag and smiles a little shrugging.

“Actually,” she says softly, still looking down as she moves her hand through the plastic bag. “I thought that we could play a game.”

Natasha instantly grins and goes to open her mouth, all of them knowing exactly the way she would say ‘let’s play a game’ but Steve already points to her and says, “don’t.” The spy rolls her eyes, but still smiles.

As Wanda takes out a dreidel, the others stare at her, and it was the first time they begin to also notice the Star of David necklace she was wearing.

They were a little surprised as they stared at the dreidel, not understanding the marks on the side of it. And it was a surprise for most of them to suddenly realize that one of their teammates who they had spent months with, was actually Jewish. But they see the hopeful smile on Wanda’s face and all of them realize that it was the first time that Wanda had asked them to do something for the entire month.

“Sure,” Tony shrugs awkwardly. “Sure.” The second time around is much more confident.

The others immediately begin nodding and Wanda’s smile widens. As they watch it grow, their awkwardness about playing the game begins to fade. Wanda places the dreidel on the island before bringing out a package of Gelt.

“We can still eat the snacks, but it’ll be better to do this at the table,” she gives them a smile. “And we’ll need a large bowl.”

The others nod, immediately getting to work.

“On it!” Sam reports, moving to bring the cheese and meat dish to the table with Rhodey.

“I’ll get the bowl,” Pepper declares while Steve and Natasha move to bring all the bowls of popcorn to the table as the others begin to find a seat at the large table as well.

“You’ll have to explain to me how to play it,” Steve admits as he sits down on one side of Wanda, setting the last bowl of popcorn on the table as well. “I’ve never played this before.”

“It’s quite fun,” Wanda smiles, taking the Gelt out of the package before she moves the bowl from the middle of the table and replaces it with the dreidel so that everyone can clearly see it. “If someone wants to start delving out the Gelt, then I can explain the sides of the dreidel.”

“I got it,” Rhodey tells her, sitting two chairs away from her on the other side of Sam. He leans over and tries to cup his hands and drag the gelt pieces over to him.

“Everyone needs to get an equal amount of pieces. If there are some left over, then place them back in the bag,” Wanda instructs. Rhodey nods and begins his work, placing the gelt into seven groups.

“Okay, so,” Wanda begins, leaning over the table a bit more so everyone can see the dreidel better, everyone leaning in as well, listening intently even if they still felt a little awkward. “I’ve only played this a few times but I think I got this. So we all start with the same amount of pieces and to start the game, we each need to put one piece into the bowl. The same happens if there is only one or no pieces left in the bowl but I’ll explain that later. Once the gelt are in the bowl, we take turns spinning the dreidel and it will land on one of the sides.”

She turns the dreidel and points to each symbol while she explains what it means.

“This is Nun. If you get this then you can’t do anything. It’s like a pass of your turn. This is Shin and if you get this then you have to put one gelt piece into the pot. This means Hay, if you get this then you take half of the pot and it’s yours,” Wanda explains, trying to be as simple as she could in her explanation, some of the others nodding every now and then. “And this piece means Gimel. This is one of the main sides that you want. If your dreidel lands with this one up, then you get what is in the whole pot…”

“It’s just beginner’s luck!”

Wanda can’t help but giggle as she looks at Natasha from across the table as she begins to gather the gelt and dreidel into a bag. The spy was leaning back in her chair, a large and smug grin on her face as she stares at everyone over the table with the large pile of gelt in front of her. She couldn’t wait to play this with Clint, Laura, and the kids.

“Oh come on, Romanoff! We all know that you’re rigging this somehow!” Tony jokingly accuses her.

Still with her smug face, Natasha just shrugs. “You all watched me play, how on earth could I cheat?”

“In both games you are the one that got the most Hay and Gimel’s. It’s suspecting at least,” Sam tells her with just as much energy.

“I’m going to have FRIDAY send me the footage of the game and I’ll catch on to you,” Tony insists, grabbing some of the bowls that used to hold popcorn and stack them before bringing them to the sink.

“Cheating? Little ol’ me?” Natasha asks innocently, the smug smile still on her face as she watches everyone begin to stand up and grab plates or cutting boards that held food on them at the start of the games.

Steve rolls his eyes and helps Wanda gather the rest of the Gelt. Once it was all in the bag, Steve gets up, grabbing a few glasses.

“That was fun, Wanda, we should play that again soon,” he tells her.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees with a smile.

“You’re not playing again,” Sam insists from the kitchen and Natasha’s smug smile returns.

Wanda just shakes her head and takes the bag before standing up, tying the top together so nothing would escape before she moves back to the plastic bag and she places inside.

“Well, that was all fun and good, but I am ready for bed,” Pepper declares.

“I should get going too,” Rhodey agrees.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’ll just make sure all this is in the sink so they will be good for the over night cleaning,” Tony tells her, giving her a kiss on her cheek before she walks away to the elevator with Rhodey.

“I guess it is late,” Sam agrees, helping Tony put everything in the sink.

Natasha nods, moving form her position so that she could bring her chair back from the table.

“Good game everyone,” she says, moving to the elevator as well, pressing the button so it would come back up when Rhodey and Pepper were off of their routes.

“Whatever,” Tony scoffs.

Wanda shakes her head and picks up the plastic bag and her coat again, walking up to the elevator to stand beside Natasha.

“What’s in the bag?” Steve asks, moving with Sam to the elevator as well.

Wanda looks down at the bag, then shrugs, Tony soon coming up to them as well.

“Just other stuff I got,” Wanda shrugs. She was glad they weren’t pushing to know, and that they weren’t making a big deal about her between the lines announcement.

The others nodded and soon enough the elevator doors opened and everyone stepped inside. They were slightly crammed in, but still chatting away and Wanda stood at the edge and watched them.

After the elevator let Sam and Steve off at their floor, it went up again to Wanda and Natasha’s to let them out. The two girls said goodbye to Tony before the elevator soon whisked  them away as well. The two girls said goodnight to each other before going into their own rooms.

Wanda didn’t know if she felt so warm as she entered her room. The night’s events had left her with sore cheeks from laughing so much and she felt so warm in her happiness.

After setting her coat down, Wanda brings the plastic bag to her room. Keeping the main lights off, she turns on the lamp by her bedside before she puts on her fuzziest pyjama pants before taking off the long sleeved shirt she was currently wearing over her black tank-top. She places another one on, this one bigger and much older and although it didn’t smell like Pietro anymore, it was still just as comfortable.

Putting the sweater on, she then takes the box out of the bag and opens it. Carefully taking the black menorah out of it, she also grabs the candles and the small box of matches. In the low light, she sets the menorah on the window sill and stares out at the night of New York for a few seconds before she opens the bag of candles and places one in each holder.

She grabs her phone and pulls up the prayers she would need before she slowly lights five of the eight candles, taking her time with each one to say the prayer to the best of her ability, finding comfort in the absolute quiet of her space.

When each candle is lit, she places the used matches in the trash and moves to the bed. Setting her head down on one pillow, she grabs the other and pulls it to her stomach before she curls upon the bed. Wanda fell asleep laying on her side facing the window, watching the fire flicker and dance in the night by her window with a light smile on her face. The sweater had never felt so warm and comfortable around her.