Anchor ⌘ Wanda Maximoff [Completed]

12. ⌘ Sleep

It had been a week since Stiles had been freed from his nightmare. He became distant, spending his time in his room alone or roaming the halls at night when everyone was asleep. And tonight was one of those nights.

Stiles was sitting on a bench across from a long row of windows looking out upon the airfield. He had been up for hours, causing dark circles under his eyes.

"Can't sleep?" A familiar Sokovian accent spoke softly, not wanting to spook the sleep deprived Stilinski.

Stiles turned his head, finding Wanda standing a few feet away from him in the bright moonlight. "Uh, yeah." He looked away, turning his attention back to the scenery. "Nightmares."

Wanda sat down next to him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really." Stiles breathed out.

They sat in silence for a moment until Wanda spoke up. "Will you let me show you something?" She asked, holding her hand out to Stiles.

He skeptically glanced at her face and then her hand held out to him. Stiles paused for a moment before taking her hand silently.

The corridor slowly disappeared, then brick buildings sprung up from the ground along with a blue sky appearing above their heads.

"I see you've found your anchor," Stiles murmured, taking in the imaginary buildings around them. "Where are we?"

"Sokovia. Before Stark's bombs and Ultron." A smile was on her face as she stared at the building in front of them. "This was my home," she took Stiles' hand and led him inside the apartment building.

They made their way inside, climbing the stairs up to the Maximoff family's apartment. "Come on," Wanda pulled Stiles inside, who was hesitant to enter at first.

The apartment was fairly small, but big enough for the small family. Wanda let go of Stiles' hand and made her way to the bedroom.

Stiles followed quietly, and watched as she sat down on the bed she and Pietro hid under during the bombing. "We were here for days, staring at a bomb that could go off at any second." A tear fell from her eye, and she wiped it away quickly. "I had never been so afraid."

Stiles sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. "I'm sorry."

"No," Wanda sent him a watery smile, "You shouldn't be sorry. That moment made me stronger. It made both of us stronger." She lightly squeezed his hand, "I should be sorry."

"Wanda," Stiles lightly shook his head with a heavy sigh. "This isn't something that I can talk about."

"It was my fault, Stiles. I can't get over it like you can," Wanda whispered, looking away from him guiltily.

"You had no control. And if you didn't do it, we'd both be dead." He spoke to her softly. Even when he was sleep deprived and still suffering from nightmares, Stiles couldn't let her feel so guilty for something she had no control over. "I don't blame you. I would never blame you. In fact, you and Vision saved me, so-" he was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his.

Stiles immediately froze, eyes wide when he realized that Wanda was kissing him. After a few more seconds, Wanda pulled back slowly and opened her eyes. When she saw his face, eyebrows risen and jaw dropped, she scrambled off the bed. "Oh my god," she muttered.

The apartment quickly disappeared and Wanda and Stiles opened their eyes, finding themselves back to reality. The sun was coming up just as the moon was disappearing below the horizon.

"I'm so sorry." Wanda stood up, apologizing profusely. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that."

Stiles shook his head, reaching for her hand. "Wait, Wanda-"

"I should go," she turned on her heel and swiftly made her way down the corridor, away from Stiles.

"Wanda!" He called after her, throwing his hands into the air when she didn't look back.