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It was strange how much Wanda hung around Clint after Sokovia.
She didn’t say much, she never did at first; if anything, Clint did all of the talking to fill the silence while Wanda simply sat doing whatever she was doing at the time. It never seemed to bother him.
Natasha knew that part of that was due to guilt. Wanda’s brother had been killed protecting Clint and Clint had never really gotten over his sacrifice.
Never gotten over how that smart mouthed kid ran in front of him to take a bullet that ended up taking his life.
He’d really believed that Wanda would hate him, but if anything, he was shocked when she pretty much attached herself to him. Natasha was suspicious at first, thinking it was some plot to worm her way into Clint’s heart before she ultimately killed him out of rage.
But months passed and Wanda never raised a hand to Clint, never seemed to hold any malicious feelings toward him, and that’s finally when Natasha allowed herself to trust the girl as well.
She observed them together out of pure curiosity; Wanda would throw food together for him if she knew he hadn’t eaten, she’d tidy up the apartment, and as a means of thanks, every time, Clint would very gently place his hand on the top of her head, ruffle her hair, and thank her.
Her smile was bright enough to light the darkest room.
It was amazing what the smallest amount of praise could do.
After all, she was still just a child. A child who had lost everything and was hoping to gain something back by doing some good.
Natasha knew what that was like.
If this child could find peace by finding a friend in Clint, then Natasha could allow it.
“She called me papa today.” Clint announced one evening, startling Natasha to the point that she looked up from her book.
“Who? Wanda?”
“Yeah.” Clint replied. “I don’t think she meant to say it. I mean, she apologized right after, but…I don’t know.”
He was frowning. She didn’t know why he looked so upset about it.
“Does it bother you?” Natasha asked curiously.
“Not really. I mean, I think it just took me by surprise.”
“You must mean a lot to her for her to think so highly of you.”
Natasha tried not to be jealous. Wanda had lost so much; she was probably just turning Clint into what she needed in order to cope with all of the loss.
“Huh. I guess so.”
It had all happened to fast.
They’d been fighting an enemy; they were superheroes, it was their job to fight supervillains and protect the city.
Sometimes they got hurt.
Clint, at the end of the day, was only human and he wasn’t invincible.
Natasha knew that; Wanda forgot that.
All it had taken was one good hit; the villain was large, tromping around wearing a giant suit of armor, and one swing of his massive arm caught Clint and sent him flying.
When he hit the ground, he didn’t get back up.
Wanda was the first to Clint’s side, hands hovering over him like she was afraid to touch him. Even from far away, Natasha could see the girl was shaking as she gripped her head in her hands and began to scream.
Before Natasha could even move, the ground began to shake and buildings that had already been barely standing due to the battle began to crumble. Wanda was glowing; the pulsing red energy that was her power began to swarm around her, lifting her from Clint’s side and up into the air. She turned, hands raised, eyes blazing as one flick of her wrist tore the metal suit from the enemy’s body and dragged him out of it, suspending him in the air as he struggled to get free.
“She’s going to kill him!” Steve exclaimed.
Wanda was too young to know the horrors of killing anyone.
She had to protect her.
Natasha ran.
She ran despite the shaking ground under her feet and ran knowing that when she got to the other side, she may be facing death herself by interfering with Wanda.
“Wanda!”
Wanda barely gave her a glance, hands still raised to hold the man in the air.
“Wanda, stop this!”
Natasha stopped running when she was close enough, panting, and squinting up at the girl with the murderous look in her red eyes.
Wanda turned her gaze to her and even Natasha had to suppress a chill.
“He killed him!” Wanda screamed, voice filled with grief.
Natasha looked to Clint, dread in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t even thought the hit would kill him and as she got closer to his body on the ground, she realized with relief that he was in still breathing. Faintly, but breathing. She could understand how Wanda missed it.
“No, Wanda. He’s alive!” Natasha exclaimed and Wanda shook her head.
“I don’t believe you!”
“I would never lie to you, Wanda!” Wanda hesitated, looking at Natasha again and this time, there was no cold chill of terror because those were the eyes of a frightened child now.
“Clint wouldn’t want you to kill for him, Wanda.” Natasha said, tone almost pleading. “Put him down and we can get Clint the help he needs.”
Wanda’s arms fell, so did the enemy and as the girl slowly began to lower back to the ground, Natasha held out her arms and wrapped them around her tightly, hand cupping the back of her head once she was close enough.
Wanda was crying; she must have been so afraid to almost lose the man she thought of as a father after losing so many. Natasha could understand her fear, her anger, and she only held her tighter.
“I’m here, Wanda. I’m here.”
Wanda wrapped her arms around her tightly in return, pressing her face into her shoulder as her shoulders shook with sobs.
“Mama…!”
Natasha tensed.
She wondered if Wanda had meant to call her that or if she was just missing the mother she had lost so long ago. Was it like when she’d called Clint ‘papa?’ Was she just longing for the comfort of those she’d lost?
Could Natasha give that to her, she wondered.
“It’s okay, Wanda. Everything is going to be alright.” She soothed.
“She called me mama.” Natasha said quietly once Clint was awake.
The hospital room was quiet aside from a steady beeping from the heart monitor and a soft breathing from the couch where Wanda was sleeping.
“Wanda?” Clint asked in surprise, voice a little hoarse still from lack of use, but he was getting there.
“Yes. After I stopped her from leveling New York to avenge you.”
Clint hummed thoughtfully, reaching out for her hand which she gave him willingly.
“Does it bother you?” He asked.
Natasha considered it for a moment.
“No. I guess not.”