Baby witch (avengers edition)

Fractured Bonds

By the time the jet landed, Wanda was fast asleep in her seat, exhaustion from the day's events and the overuse of her powers taking their toll. Clint sat beside her, gently using a wet towel to wipe the blood from her face. As he leaned over her to give her a soft shake, a glint of metal caught his eye from the girl's hand.

"Ugh, guys," Clint grumbled as he pulled Ultron's metal heart from Wanda's grasp. He turned and tossed it to Tony, who caught it effortlessly.

"Huh, could use this for tennis," Tony quipped, tossing it around in his hands.

Clint shook Wanda awake gently, but she jumped violently, her eyes already misty with tears.

"We're here, kiddo. Let's get you inside," Clint said softly.

Wanda stared at him, her expression blank as she tried to process his words. Her gaze shifted to the device on her wrist, which was now off, and then to Pietro's lifeless body being attended to by medical personnel.

Wanda sprang from her seat, skidding on her knees to reach her brother. She ran her fingers through his silvery hair, her tears mingling with the dust on his face.

"Волим те... Велики брате. Ћао ми је љто си то био ти." (I love you, brother. I'm sorry it was you.) Her voice was raspy and dry, full of grief.

As the stretcher began to move, Wanda clung to it desperately. "Pietro...PIETRO!" Her cries were raw and desperate. She was so overwhelmed that she didn't even notice the gag had been removed, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Clint stepped in to hold her back so the medics could move Pietro's body. Wanda thrashed under his weight, her screams echoing her heartbreak.

The rest of the Avengers, including Natasha, entered the tower in silence, the weight of the day heavy on everyone. They didn't know what to say; they couldn't truly understand her loss.

Wanda continued to cry, clutching Clint's arm as he gently rubbed her back, trying to offer what comfort he could. It was a gesture akin to how he would comfort his own children, Lila and Cooper.

"Wanda," Clint said softly, at a loss for words. "I think we should get you inside now. It's been a long day, and you need to rest."

Wanda didn't respond, her eyes vacant and distant. Clint was reminded of Natasha's vacant look when she had been under Wanda's influence—so similar to Wanda's current state.

"Kid, I'm going to help you up now, alright?" Clint said, lifting her carefully. Wanda tried to step forward but faltered, and Clint caught her before she could fall. "Okay, I got you. Don't worry."

Wanda's POV

Clint's attempt to carry me felt invasive. I didn't want his touch; it was a constant reminder that he was here, and Pietro wasn't. Avengers were supposed to save people, and my brother and I weren't Avengers. So maybe he should have been doing his job better.

I didn't notice Clint's attempt to comfort me earlier; I was too numb from my screams to register anything.

As he guided me into the Avengers' elevator, I felt dwarfed by their towering presence. Their gazes were almost accusatory, and I struggled to suppress a laugh at the memories of Pietro and me, where we once stood against them.

A tap on my back jolted me back to reality. I took hesitant steps forward, feeling as though they were all scrutinizing me. I finally made it to where Clint guided me, feeling dwarfed by their imposing figures.

Steve Rogers approached me, standing directly in front of me. He seemed ready to lecture, possibly about military protocol.

"Bedroom's all ready. Lights out by 10, and training with Natasha in the morning," Steve said, tilting his head towards Natasha, who gave a sarcastic salute.