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Wanda sinks to her knees, hand clamped over her mouth. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, it was never her intention to cause this destruction. She’s unable to tear her eyes away from the burning and crumbling building as much as she wants to. Tears blur her vision and she almost takes solace in that.
“Maximoff!”
Wanda immediately recognizes the voice among the others screaming and crying, rushing around her.
“Natasha.” She replies shakily as the redhead kneels down next to her.
Natasha wraps one arm around Wanda’s waist, pulling her into her feet. Wanda, too enervated to protest, lets her lead her back to the Avengers jet.
The moment Natasha lets go of her, Wanda falls back to her knees, shaking. Natasha's heart thuds harshly in her chest at seeing Wanda’s tears.
“Maximoff,” She starts gently, sitting down next to her, “It’s okay.”
Wanda shakes her head vehemently.
“I didn’t mean it, I swear Natasha.” She sobs.
The flames flash in her mind, dragging her down into dark depths. She hadn’t meant to send the bomb into the building. The screams echo in her skull and she squeezes her eyes closed, begging them to stop. They rise to a deafening pitch, threatening to smother her.
“I know you didn’t.” Natasha assures.
She wraps her arm around Wanda’s shoulder, pulling her closer. Wanda rests her head against Natasha’s shoulder, hugging her knees to her chest.
“I-I didn’t want to h-hurt anyone,” Wanda trips over her own words, “I wish I could take it b-back.”
Natasha’s chest constricts with sorrow for the other girl. She’d come to care deeply for her in the few months they’d known each other, and seeing her in such despair rips her heart in two jagged pieces.
“I know, Wanda, I know.” She says softly.
“I-I feel like such a terrible person!” Wanda chokes out, gasping for breath.
She didn’t even want these stupid abilities. She was apparently too dangerous, too untrained to control them fully. She felt like a menace, not a hero.
“You’re not a terrible person, you have to know that.”
Wanda shakes her head again, tears rushing down her cheeks.
Natasha can only hold her patiently, whispering sweet assurances into her ear. At some point, Steve and Tony try to approach them. Natasha waves them away so as to not further overwhelm Wanda. They regard her with quizzical stares but Natasha’s steely resolve forces them to turn away.
“I know you didn’t mean it, Maximoff, I know it was a mistake.”
“I’m sorry.” Wanda’s voice is weak from crying.
“It’s okay.” Natasha wipes the witch’s running mascara with her fingertips.
After an hour or so of crying, Wanda’s sure she’s used all of the water in her body. Her head feels heavy and her stomach hurts. She’s vaguely aware that Natasha’s stroking her hair and whispering to her in Russian, and even though she doesn’t fully understand the words, it’s still comforting.
Wanda exists in a haze state. Natasha gently but firmly ushers her to bed when they arrive at the Avengers compound. Wanda almost protests that there’s no way she could possibly fall asleep but as soon as her body hits the mattress, her exhaustion smacks her with the force of a two-ton truck.
Natasha pulls the blanket to Wanda’s shoulders, tucking her in with a sigh. She reaches up to tuck messy strands of dark brown hair behind her ear, letting her hand linger for a beat longer than necessary, trailing down her jawline.
She stands up, leaving the bedside lamp on. Something told her Wanda would want it on to chase the darkness away, even in her sleep. It casts a soft yellow glow over the room, highlighting Wanda’s flushed cheeks in a way that made her look younger and more vulnerable than she already was.
Natasha slips out from the room, arms wrapped around herself. Tony was leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, evidently waiting for her. He gives her a once over with a hard stare and her blood runs cold.
“Whatever you’re going to say, just say it.” Natasha snaps, in no mood for his dramatics.
“That little witch messed up,” He begins, “Big time.”
“She didn’t mean it.”
“Seems like your feelings are clouding your mind right now.”
“Seems like you’re being an asshole right now.” Natasha bites fiercely.
“I’m just saying, Red, I don’t think your girl can be an Avenger anymore. She’s too dangerous.” Tony’s tone is harsh.
It makes white-hot anger flash in Natasha’s body. She wants to grab him by his stupid Black Sabbath t-shirt and shove him as hard as she can into the wall.
“You’re acting like she’s the only one who’s ever made a mistake!” She practically shouts, pointing at him accusingly, “You definitely have!”
He takes a step back from her.
“Wanda’s a threat to everyone,” He doubles down, “And you’re trying to justify her mistake because...?”
“If we judged everyone on their mistakes, I wouldn’t be here, and neither would you. Why is Wanda different?” Natasha counters, taking a step forward.
The way Tony called Wanda a threat tasted bitter in Natasha’s mouth. She wasn’t, she was a person trying her best just like everyone else. The Wanda Natasha knew was a girl who loved cheesy sitcoms, afternoon naps, and thunderstorms, a girl who was constantly proving her strength despite her grief, certainly not a threat.
“Like I said. A problem. A threat.”
Natasha’s rage boils over and her body seems to be moving without the permission of her mind. She grabs the collar of Tony’s shirt, pushing him back into the wall, hard.
“You’re a goddamn douchebag, you know that?”
He holds his hands up in surrender, which only serves in making Natasha angrier. He doesn’t get the moral high road. In fact, she almost wishes he’d fight her back but he doesn’t lay a finger on her.
Natasha lets him go and turns quickly on her heel back towards Wanda’s room. He shouts at her but she doesn’t dignify him with any response. She lets out a deep breath in an attempt to keep herself in check as she slips back into Wanda’s room, perching on the edge of the bed. As if Wanda can sense her presence, her eyes flutter open.
“Natasha?” Her voice is raspy from her throat being so dry.
“Yeah, Maximoff?”
Wanda moves to make room for her, pulling the blanket back and patting the now empty spot next to her. Natasha obliges, kicking off her boots before settling into the spot.
“Is everything okay?” Wanda asks softly, “I thought I heard arguing.”
Natasha shakes her head with a bittersweet smile. Nothing was okay, but the fact that Wanda was still checking up on her warmed her heart.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Wanda doesn’t press for a more definitive answer. Instead, she reaches to lace her fingers through Natasha’s under the covers, resting her forehead against her shoulder. She closes her eyes again.
What feels like hundreds of butterflies flap their wings in Natasha’s stomach. The tenseness she was carrying in her shoulders dropped and she turned her head to the side. She presses a kiss into Wanda’s hair.
Despite the past few hours, the moment was extremely calm. The night is quiet save for Wanda’s soft, even breathing and the wind blowing past the window above the bed. She waits a few minutes until she’s sure Wanda’s fully asleep again, gaining the confidence to speak.
“I’m sorry, Maximoff,” She murmurs, “I know you didn’t mean it. I know it was a mistake.”
A shaky start. She can do better, she thinks.
“God knows I’ve made mistakes in the past. Everyone has. It doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person.”
She rolls onto her side to face Wanda, speaking even softer now.
“I’m going to try my best to protect you, okay?”
Of course, Wanda doesn’t answer. She almost wishes she’d wake up and respond but then decides that if she had to look into Wanda's beautiful viridescent eyes, she’d lose her nerve.
Natasha instead focuses on Wanda’s hand in her own, forcing her mind to slow down. The moment is deceivingly tranquil for the time being and Natasha decides that’s all she can ask. Temporary calm before the storm.
---
Wanda wakes up to a soothing warmth beside her. Without opening her eyes she curls into it, blindly throwing her arm out.
She connects with Natasha’s hips, fingers curling around the hem of her shirt.
Natasha reaches out to rest her hand on top of Wanda’s. She’s been up for a while, too caught up in her own thoughts to sleep longer than a few hours. Getting up seemed like the logical thing to do, however, she couldn’t leave Wanda.
Wanda stirs a few minutes later, blinking slowly. Immediately, she’s hit with the memories of yesterday and her peaceful state shatters like a glass window breaking. Also, she’s suddenly aware she’s snuggled up extremely close to Natasha and holding her waist. Embarrassment floods her body and she pulls back.
“Hey, Maximoff.” Natasha says softly.
“Hey.”
A tightness settles in Wanda’s chest and she presses a hand to her heart to try to push it away.
“Natasha?”
The redhead hums in response.
“What do you think is going to happen?”
Wanda’s question was widely open-ended. What would happen today? Natasha didn’t know. She’s sure the rest of the team would want to talk. She’d stand by Wanda’s side, no matter what.
“I’m not sure.” Natasha murmurs honestly.
Tears prick the corner of Wanda’s eyes. Whatever it was, she’s sure it won’t be pretty. She’s in hot water and she’s not sure she can handle it.
Natasha drags her hand down her face, sighing heavily.
“We should get up.”
Fear shoots through Wanda’s body and her eyes widen. She returns her arm around Natasha’s waist quickly, holding her in place.
“Please stay.” She begs desperately.
Getting up meant facing reality. Seeing the disappointed faces of her other teammates, the news coverage that was no doubt cursing her name, dealing with the complicated emotions that would follow. It all made her want to burst into tears and curl up until she completely disappeared.
Staying in bed posed the idea of blissful ignorance and even though she knew it was wrong, it seemed so appealing she had to try.
“Maximoff…” Natasha tilts her head sympathetically.
“Please,” Wanda implores, voice breaking, “Please, Natasha.”
Natasha caves. There’s no way she couldn’t. She uses her thumb to wipe away the witch’s tears from under her eyes gently. That only serves in making Wanda’s breath catch in her throat. She presses into Natasha, hiding her face against her collarbone.
“It’s okay, Maximoff,” Natasha whispers into her hair, “I’ll stay right here.”
She moves to rub soft, slow circles across Wanda’s back, focusing on that small motion to try to stop her mind from reeling. Unfortunately, her heart doesn’t get the message. It drops to her toes.
Natasha decides then and there she’d rather get punched in the face than see Wanda cry. She thought that the witch had dealt with enough and only deserved to flash her radiant smile for the rest of her life. Wanda’s smile always reminded Natasha of the sun, bright and hopeful.
Neither of them are sure how long they stay there, wrapped up in one another. They’re interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's robotic voice filling the room, announcing that they were being requested for a meeting with the rest of the Avengers and General Ross.
Wanda finally pulls away from Natasha, trying to force her guilt to turn into steely resolve. She thought that was the only way she could get through the day, void of any feelings. Natasha slides to her feet. Wanda knows she should follow, dry her eyes and get changed and meet everyone. Her hesitation makes Natasha lean down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Don’t worry, little witch,” She murmurs softly, “It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen.”
Wanda nods, though she's not sure she completely believes it.
“I don’t know that you can protect me from this, Nat.” Wanda replies bitterly.
Natasha shrugs.
“I can damn well try.”
---
Natasha lingers outside the door to the conference room the meeting was being held in. As promised, she was waiting for Wanda before going in. She runs her tongue across her teeth nervously, fidgeting in her spot.
Wanda shows up a few minutes later, fiddling with the long sleeves of her shirt. She leans against the wall next to the redhead, exhaling heavily. Her timorousness was exceedingly evident.
“You ready?” Natasha questions gently.
Wanda shakes her head.
“No.” She answers honestly.
Judging by the dark look on General Ross’s face, he wasn’t happy and she couldn't blame him. She’d caught some news reports that made her name synonymous with “terrorist”. It tore her apart from the inside, breaking her down into tiny pieces.
A little part of her wants to turn and run, hide in the shadows, and never be heard from again. Maybe Natasha would come with her and they could travel to all the places Wanda’s dreamed of going to. Paris. Amsterdam. Berlin, among others. That option is definitely outlandish but she can’t help but think about it.
“It’ll be alright, Maximoff.”
She’s still not convinced it would be though she appreciates Natasha’s efforts deeply. A feeling of affection suddenly ripples through her, warming her body.
Natasha starts into the room but Wanda catches her wrist to stop her. The redhead turns around, tilting her head in question.
“I just…” Wanda trails off.
She wants to say thank you, to make her appreciation known, and tell her she cares about her so much.
“You just…?” Natasha raises an eyebrow, trying to prompt the brunette to continue.
Wanda can’t get any words out. Instinct takes over for her. She grabs the lapels of Natasha’s leather jacket, pulling her in and kissing her softly yet fervently.
Momentarily startled, Natasha freezes before her hands fall to Wanda’s waist, holding her close. They pull away from each other breathlessly. Wanda’s cheeks had turned bright pink.
“That’s all.” She mumbles stupidly, obviously still flustered from the moment.
Natasha has to laugh, because how the hell could she not. She laughs genuinely, shaking her head at the other girl.
“That’s all.” The redhead repeats, chuckling.
The two walk into the meeting, sobering as they sit down next to each other. Natasha reaches for Wanda’s hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Wanda shoots her a tiny, grateful smile. She thinks that with Natasha at her side, she can make her way through whatever comes next.