Safe Place

17: Miss Heart-Eyes

Wanda's POV:

*TEN DAYS LATER* 

It's early in the morning, probably too early to be awake, but I've got a lot on my mind. It's still pitch-dark outside. I wrap the thick blue blanket I bought with Natasha around me tightly, but does nothing to soothe me.

It actually just makes everything worse.

For the past several days, Nat's been completely ignoring me. And when I say completely, I mean completely - she won't talk to me, won't sit near me, won't look at me. 

We were supposed to start training a few days ago, and I waited in the training room for an hour until Clint came down and said that Nat couldn't make it today. I didn't bother showing up for our next session yesterday.

It's not a big deal. I have Vision now, after all. And now that Nat's avoiding me like the plague, as they say, I get to spend most of my time with him.

It's great.

Really.

With a groan, I roll over and close my eyes. Another hour of sleep will do me some good. 

When I open them again, I see Pietro in the fat green armchair, his white-blonde hair mussed and his chin resting in his hands. "Hey, P," I say, smiling at him.

I know it's a dream, but he's been popping into my dreams a lot lately, and it's comforting. He's still here, in a way. And I've been doing a lot better with my grief.

"Hey, Wan," he says, grinning. "So, we need to talk."

"Why?"

"Well, it's kind of important. And it has to do with - ahem - love."

"Oh, god," I moan, burying my face in my hands. "You want to pretend to be Dad and give me a lecture on dating and boys."

"No," he says, his grin getting sharper. "I don't want to give you a lecture on dating and boys."

There's something in his tone I can't identify, some deeper hint of meaning, and it wiggles into the back of my mind. "Pietro, just say it."

He studies me seriously and starts to say something before shaking his head. "Okay. Let's start here. Why are you dating Vision?"

"I like him," I say immediately.

"Sure. Why?"

"Um, because he's nice," I supply. "And he's smart, and he's caring, and he's affectionate."

Pietro tuts at me. "That's a list of character traits, little sis. Why do you, Wanda Maximoff, like him?" 

I falter. "I mean - we were both created by the Mind Stone?" It comes out as a question, and I wince, knowing my brother will sink his teeth into my uncertainty. 

"No," Pietro bites out. "The Mind Stone did not create you, Wanda. All it did was give you some red mist and a couple cool powers."

"Hang on, I wouldn't call telepathy and - "

"Not the point," he interrupts frustratedly. "The point, sis, is that you are your own person. Screw that stone. You're Wanda Maximoff. You like music and playing guitar and berries and weird, kind of emo clothes."

I roll my eyes. "P, come on. My clothes aren't emo, and the Mind Stone made a huge difference in my life. And - why do you even get to weigh in? You're not real. This is a dream."

My last words hit us both like a punch in the gut. I can feel the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes, but I push them down.

Pietro's face crumples a little bit. "Yeah, Wan,"  he says, smiling sadly. "I'm a dream. I'm dead."