Home (HE/HIM VERSION)

16

That caught Wanda off guard.

It was a visceral, physical reaction. Like someone had sunk a dagger into her chest and pulled downwards, ripping the air out of her lungs as her entire body stung with pain. The speed in which tears had begun to burn in her eyes was similar to getting sucker punched right on the nose. That simple snap of words had hit her straight in the jugular.

Wanda didn't know what to say. She'd had everything planned out in her head, a perfect little script of what to say, but all of that had been thrown out of the window as soon as Vision was mentioned.

She tilted her head to the side, shoulders hunching in on themselves out of pain. Wanda wasn't physically hurt, but it sure felt like it. She fought her bottom lip as it tried to wobble, taking sharp, shaky breaths. "Y/n-"

"I can do it! I'll do it right now!" Y/n exclaimed with an exasperated laugh, throwing his hands up in the air. "What colour walls do you want? How big of a house? Do you want to be neighbours?" He asked, bombarding the poor woman with as many questions as possible. His eyes stayed glued on Wanda, trying to force him to make eye contact.

Wanda flinched at every single word that came out of y/n's mouth. She couldn't help but let her body close in on itself as the man continued to talk. It was an offer she hadn't expected. Y/n was holding out a perfect life on a silver platter. A life where she could settle down with Vision.

But she knew that if she accepted the offer, it would never be real. Thousands of people would still be held under y/n's control. Thousands of people would still be tortured.

"What job do you think Vision would have? Maybe a nice office job?" Y/n continued to ramble, getting closer and closer to Wanda. He was desperate to convince her. Desperate to keep his 'perfect' life. "Ooo! How about a bakery? You could run it together! Your baking was always amazing."

Wanda clenched her jaw as a few tears escaped, pattering down on the wooden floor. She hated how y/n could manipulate her so easily. She hated that she was actually debating taking the offer. It all sounded amazing. "Don't-"

Wanda cut herself off as she finally lifted her head up to meet y/n's eyes, solemness coursed through her in a matter of seconds. It wasn't what she was expecting at all.

Y/n wasn't angry. He wasn't trying to manipulate her.

Y/n's mind had cracked and crumbled.

He was desperate, despaired, and completely and utterly hopeless.

All y/n was doing was standing opposite Wanda, but the look in his eyes mixed with his mannerisms looked like something not even the storybooks could describe.

Y/n's eyes swirled with frustrated tears, desperately trying to mask the darkness and mourning that sat underneath. His pupils were dilated like saucers, just seeming to accentuate the deep eyebags on his face. He looked exhausted.

The wide smile forced upon his face trembled and wavered with every word that came out of his mouth, the muscles in his face obviously sore. His lips were cracked and dry due to him anxiously biting them - something that Bucky had been trying to get him to stop doing before he was dusted. Everything was clear, even if he'd tried his hardest to hide it underneath a natural layer of makeup that matched whatever time period he was in.

Up close, y/n's knitted yellow vest looked like it was falling apart. So did his hairstyle. Stray threads hung off the edges, rips evident where y/n had anxiously scrunched the vest up in his hands.

The hands that had nail beds red and raw. The calloused fingers that had dug themselves into an already crumbling cliff, clinging on to whatever was left of his fantasy.

Y/n needed help.

He wasn't manipulating Wanda. He was begging.

"What do you think? 'Wanda's Cakes' or 'Magical Makes'?" Y/n asked, adamant to keep going, to keep pushing. "Or do you want something that involves Vision, too?" Y/n hummed, frowning in thought. "That's hard... We can't really add 'synthezoid' to a bakery name-"

"Y/n, stop." Wanda interrupted, raising her voice a little so that y/n would listen to her. She looked at the man with sad eyes, just wanting to envelop him into a hug and never let go, but she couldn't. Y/n had put up far too many walls, and hugging him wouldn't solve the situation. It wouldn't wake him up from his deluded daydream. "Please."

Y/n paused as Wanda interrupted him, eyes wide as the woman practically begged for him to stop talking. He clenched his jaw, chewing on his bottom lip once again as he came to the realisation of why Wanda was there. "No." He whispered in a shaky tone, a sad smile struggling to form on his exhausted face. "No, Wanda..."

Wanda took a sharp breath, her posture straightening as she noticed the realisation in y/n's eyes. It was her chance, even if y/n didn't want to accept it. "Y/n, please." She pleaded in a quiet tone. She took a step toward the man, but y/n immediately took a step back. "What you're doing here is wrong, y/n. You know that as well as I do. You need to let go-"

"No!" Y/n yelled, yet there wasn't an ounce of anger on his face. It was pure, unrelenting grief. His hands reached up to rake through his hair, squeezing a painful breath past the lump in his throat. He let out a broken laugh, one that echoed as he paced between the pews of the church.

Letting go of Westview meant letting go of Bucky. He couldn't do that. He couldn't do that.

"I was supposed to be happy, Wanda!" Y/n yelled after a few moments, throwing his hands up in defeat as he finally stood still. Tears poured down his cheeks, but he didn't care anymore. "I deserve to be happy!" He pointed to himself, his tone becoming a bit lower as the grief caught up with him.

Y/n hiccuped between the tears, his shoulders beginning to fall as he tried to form the next thing he was going to say. "They're all so happy for me, Wanda! The entire world!" He yelled in a broken tone, his bottom lip wavering. "Y'know, on the way home from Natasha's funeral-" Y/n paused, looking up at the ceiling as he fought to not completely crumble. "On the way home from Natasha's funeral, Steve had to stop for gas. I stayed in the car, and people knocked on the fucking window and thanked me for saving the world." Y/n gasped in a breath, tears freely streaming as the sad smile on his face continued to wobble. "I just hate it, and I hate myself because sometimes-" He paused again, feeling the grief ravage through his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I never did."