Baby witch (avengers edition)

Breaking Points

### Chapter: Breaking Points

**Wanda's Perspective**

I woke up shaking and crying, my powers unleashing a red mist that hovered over the room, distorting the familiar surroundings. Natasha's urgent voice cut through my panic, and it took me a moment to understand what was happening. The room was a chaotic mess—books, toys, and my jewelry scattered across the floor, all the result of my uncontrolled powers.

Natasha's voice broke through the fog of my fear. "Wanda, wake up!" She was shaking me gently, her face a mask of concern. As I tried to regain control, everything crashed to the floor. The wetness on my face felt foreign until I tasted the salty tears and realized I was crying. I was embarrassed, frustrated—feeling like a baby in front of Natasha again.

"Calm down, you're okay," Natasha spoke softly, trying to pull me into a comforting embrace. But I pulled away, feeling the sting of rejection. She settled on the edge of my bed, respecting my need for space. I took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm the storm within me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head vehemently. Talking wasn't going to fix this. Natasha's insistence only made me more frustrated. "Talking helps," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"No!" I snapped, my voice cracking with raw emotion. I was tired of her pushing me, of everyone pushing me. For a moment, Natasha looked surprised, but she quickly masked it with a neutral expression. "Leave me alone," I rasped, my throat sore from crying.

"I can't do that. You need to be monitored, especially after what happened," Natasha said apologetically, though her tone held a trace of annoyance.

"I'm not a fragile child! I can take care of myself!" I yelled, feeling the red mist around my hands intensify. I shoved them under the blankets, trying to hide the evidence of my powers. Natasha's eyes flickered to the bed, then back to me, her concern palpable.

"You are Wanda, and you need to stop denying it," Steve's voice came from the door, carrying a mixture of authority and concern.

All the bottled-up anger I'd been holding surged forth. I wanted to scream, to make them understand how suffocating their care felt. "You know what?" I turned to Natasha, my voice trembling with rage. "Where were you? Where were you when I was screaming for my mom, when I was exhausted and alone at my desk day after day?"

The words choked out of me, and I clutched my head, digging my nails into my skull before throwing my hands aggressively by my sides. "You only show up when it's convenient for you, not when there's a real problem!"

I looked at Steve, who stood there, guilt etched on his face. "You two should just shut the hell up and go get a kid of your own. But a warning for you—don't just show up when you feel like it, not when you're actually needed!"

Natasha and Steve were stunned into silence. I shrugged, a mix of resignation and frustration in my posture. "Yeah, that's what I thought," I muttered to myself, turning my back on them.

The room was thick with tension as I began to use my magic, feeling the surge of power rise uncontrollably. "Shit," Steve exclaimed, watching as I vanished before their eyes. He rushed to where I had been, but there was no trace of me left.

**Wanda's Escape**

I materialized in a random location, disoriented and desperate. A rock on the sidewalk caught my attention, and I began kicking it absentmindedly, trying to focus on anything but the turmoil inside me. The scent of someone's deodorant wafted by, making me stiffen and feel uneasy. The smell grew stronger, and a twig snapped across the street, making me look over.