Safe Place

2: Someone

Natasha's POV:

"All right, I have to go," I tell Wanda through the door. If she's listening, that is. All I hear is soft breaths and the occasional stifled sob. "Eat something, okay?"

No response, as usual. I wait another beat, seeing if she'll come to the door, but everything is silent and somber. The air feels thicker and grayer by Wanda's room.

I slowly turn around and walk back down the hallway. I open the door to Clint's room and enter, but he's nowhere in sight.

"Hey," I hiss, leaving the door ajar as I pad inside. "Hey! Clint!"

"Huh?" he calls, emerging from his bathroom with a towel around his neck. "You rang?"

"Keep your voice down. I was just dropping off some food and stuff for Wanda, but she still won't talk to me."

"Grief's a process, Nat," he whispers. "You have to let her grieve."

"Believe me, I know about grief," I murmur back, making sure to keep my voice low so not to disturb Wanda. "But I'm worried about her. She's so young, and so brilliant, and she's got her whole life ahead of her."

"She's three or four years younger than you, Nat. Now, I'm not saying you're old," he hastily reassures me as I step towards him threateningly. "You're young! Young and beautiful! You've got your whole life ahead of you!"

"You realize you just backed up my point, right?" I laugh quietly.

"Whatever. Point is, Wanda just needs time."

"She's had time, Clint. I'll give her another week at most, and then I'm going in."

"Fine," he sighs. "But I'm telling you, all she wants right now is to be alone."

I nod at him and shut the door behind me as I leave, heading downstairs to the training room.

"Hey, Romanoff," Steve greets me from his spot at the punching bags.

"Good morning, Woman of Spiders!" Thor booms. He's perched on a treadmill, sitting with his legs crossed and eating a blueberry Pop-Tart.

I shake my head but smile. Only Thor, I think to myself. That one's in a class by himself.

"Morning, Rogers. Morning, Thor."

Everyone knows that I'm generally not a morning person, nor do I like to chat while training, so they both leave me alone after that. I grab a dummy and work on my takedowns after a quick stretch.

Time passes quickly when I train. I'm "in the zone", as they say. When I hear screams coming from upstairs, my focus is jolted and my gaze snaps to the ceiling.

"What on Asgard is that dreadful racket?" Thor asks jovially, summoning his hammer and tossing it from hand to hand. "Shall I abolish it?"

"No, no, Thor, put the hammer down," I half-scold, tilting my head to the side to hear better. "I think that's Wanda. I'm gonna go check on her."

"You sure, Romanoff?" Steve asks. "Wanda needs some space and - "

"Time to grieve! So I've heard. But I think it's pretty obvious she needs some help."

We wait half a second. The screaming grows higher, more unhinged, escalating into wails.

I run up the stairs, navigating the halls with practiced ease, before stopping at Wanda's door and pounding on it. I jiggle the knob, but it's locked. With a little effort, I twist the knob off the door, fling it open, and rush inside. 

Wanda's in her bed, trembling and sobbing. When she sees me, her eyes widen, but she doesn't stop crying.

Seeing her like this, so fragile and so desperate, it twists something inside of me. 

Wanda needs someone. It's as clear as the teardrops that spatter her cheeks.

She needs someone to comfort her, someone to be there for her, someone like Pietro. She needs someone by her side to help her back into day-to-day life.

All she wants is space, but if we keep giving it to her, I'm afraid that something really bad is going to happen. Something we all could have stopped. Something I'm sure has crossed her mind.

So I vow to myself that I will be Wanda's someone.