Marvel Oneshots

On Video pt.2 👟

Wanda's pov

I pressed end call as Steve walked in, his face is red as most of ours are. We lost good people. Good, smart, caring people.

My thoughts are filled with whether I should tell him about the call or if I should read him. Usually, Id ask Pietro or at least force him to listen to my ramblings but this is not the right time.

"Wanda," He said a bit loud, shocking me out of my haze, my attention running to his watery eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Are you not going?"

"No. I'm not up to it. I feel um- nauseous." I cocked my head to look at him, despite the reddened cheeks, his face was dry.

"It's the funeral. You have to go."

"Natasha deserves better than what we are giving her. Now, Steve, if you don't mind I'm going to go to my room." I stood up and walked past him, attempting to get what I can off of him. Steve stayed frozen till I got to the doorframe and he walked away.

I couldn't read, but as I left I picked up on one thing, Steve was not as devasted as the rest of us want to believe.

~ ~ ~

When I arrived I waved my hand and they let me through the door, sliding their keycard over the alarm to turn it off. The bars now are the other thing separating me and the person I've come to hate the most.

If this was a facade it was a damn good one. I know Y/n can control how she thinks, but she's unconscious and bloodied, unable to keep that specific kind of focus it takes to manipulate me.

There's a chunk missing from her calf, she's definitely got broken ribs, and there's a gash on the back of her head.

With a nod, the guard opened the door and I pulled Y/n out. The others in jail were not happy with her sudden release, but I have to know.

Once I got her back to the car I laid her out in the backseat, her limp arm falling into the legroom. I sighed and found my way into the driver's seat.

I don't know where I'm gonna go. What to do. I could go to one of the safe houses that me and Vis agreed on, but I'm not sure I want him involved in this. Shaking my head I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the number, "Hey Vis. I um- I did a thing and um- I don't think you should get involved but with everything that's happened I wanted to tell you I'm okay."

"Love, where are you? You know that when you need me I'll be there, I'll drop everything ri-"

"Vis, don't sound worried. Keep your voice calm. Especially around the team. I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay. Text me updated every hour, I have to know you're alright."

"Deal."

Y/n groaned in the backseat, and I quickly told Vis goodbye and hung up. I gave a quick look at her and then started to drive. This place is unfamiliar and hot, really fucking hot. I know there is a safe house in Colorado, I'll take her there and try to figure this out.

I keep thinking, "What would Natasha do?" I always looked up to her and part of me still is furious at Y/n. She killed Clint, she killed Natasha, and she escaped the consequences. It's not fair.

It should've been her.

~ ~ ~

*my pov*

It stings. That woke me. I kicked and yelled, my hands are tied together and to a pipe. He backed off of me, dropping whatever utensils he had in his hands.