Safe Place

10: Crying (And Todd the Jerk Server)

Natasha's POV:

I could count every single one of Wanda's eyelashes if I wanted to. I could touch every tiny freckle on her nose, little gold specks like pretty-colored pinpricks. I could finger every strand of her dark hair.

Why is she so close?

The food buzzer lights up red and vibrates loudly, effectively ruining the moment and causing Wan to jump away from me as if she'd been shocked. On closer look, though, she's shaking, and her eyes are glossing over.

"Wan, look at me. Look at me, Wanda," I say, shoving the buzzer aside and putting my hands over hers. She's hyperventilating. Her face is paler than snow. "It's okay, you're okay. I've got you. You're okay."

Tears are snaking their way down Wanda's paper-white cheeks as she struggles to take in a full breath. "I - I - " she gasps. 

"Shhh, no, don't try to talk. It's okay. Just follow me," I encourage her, tilting her head so she's staring straight at me. I place one of her trembling hands on my chest and breathe exaggeratedly, in and out. She follows.

"See, there you go. You're okay, Wan, it's all okay," I murmur into her hair, pulling her into a firm hug. Her body is as stiff as a board, and her tears are soaking my shirt. "It's okay, Wanda, sweetie, everything's okay, I've got you."

Wanda sags into me, like she's ready to fall down and give up, but I loop my arms around her and hold her tight. "It's - it's like - like when - in HYDRA -" She starts crying harder.

"You don't have to tell me, Wan, it's all right," I reassure her, but she just shakes her head and pushes herself into a sitting position.

"They used electric shocks as punishment," she explains, her voice shaking but eerily calm. "And sometimes just for fun. They liked to see how long I could go without passing out. It was a game to them. They took bets, kept track. And it hurt..." More tears fall. "It hurt so bad, Nat..."

I can't help it. This one girl with red fire coming out of her hands and brownish-green fire for eyes, she's broken down every last one of my walls. I'm tied to her. I don't know how, or why, but I am. And when she says those things, when I look at her and she looks so defeated, so broken - I want to cry.

My eyes fill, and Wanda notices. Her own eyes get huge, and she starts to cry earnestly again. "Oh, Nat," she wails. "Don't - don't - I didn't mean to -" She dissolves into tears again, burying her head in her hands. She's like a fragile doll, and I have to keep her from breaking into pieces.

She lets out a sob, and for some reason, that sets me off - I start to cry, too. More silently than Wanda, less painfully than Wanda, but still - tears are running quietly down my cheeks. I haven't cried in a decade. And this girl I've known for one or two weeks has made me feel all of those emotions that I locked inside when the Red Room took me.

Sadness. Anger. Laughter. Joy.

Love.

But I banish the last thought. Wanda doesn't need a girlfriend right now, and she doesn't need a love confession, and she doesn't need the immense tangle of emotion that I'm feeling. She just needs a someone. She needs somebody to hold her as she cries and mourns. She needs somebody to teach her that life has upsides, that there is happiness and joy to be found, even in the darkest of times.

I gather her into my arms and let her cry into my shoulder, taking care to tilt my head so none of my tears fall on her. She sobs for a minute or two more before scooting out of my arms and looking up at me, tears clinging to her beautiful lashes, breath hitching in a way that makes me crack deep inside.