"...Y/n? Y/n, you with me?"
Wanda's voice coaxed you back from the nothingness, that pure black surrounding you with the only noise being that godforsaken chittering and you blinked slowly before turning to face her. You took a deep breath and you nodded to answer her question, but her face was still filled with worry.
As you glanced around, you realized you were back in your apartment, on your couch, and facing the TV like when she had left you, but Netflix was currently asking if you were still watching.
You had no sense of time, your body was numb, almost like it was on a high, and your mind was swimming, but not in a bad way. It was almost peaceful, and you hadn't gotten that feeling before while being sober, but it was awfully nice.
"Hey, Max." You smiled dopily and your voice came out slurred, making Wanda's face flood with confusion.
"Did you get high?" She asked, not disgusted or put off, just trying to place a reason for all this, "How long have you been on the couch?"
"Dunno," You shrugged truthfully, "But my ankle feels better."
"I tried calling you after the mission..." She trailed off, but when your eyes became lidded, she spoke a little louder, subtly trying to keep you awake, "Have you been here since I left you?"
"Georgia brought brownies over," You tried to remember back to soon after she left, but it was all a fuzzy blank at first, and then it came back in a huge wave, making you cringe, "Never mind, that wasn't...right."
"Y/n, you're not making sense," She pursed her lips, "I need to get you some help."
You felt so physically tired, the idea of getting anything right now had you sighing out a whine of protest, laying back, and shaking your head.
"'m okay, promise."
She said something, but you could barely make it out as you realized you didn't let her inside the townhouse and if you didn't even answer the door...what if this wasn't Wanda? What if that thing was back and when she opened her mouth again that awful noise would just start spilling out?
"Why're you looking at me like that?" She asked when your expression changed to one of horror.
"What do you want?" You used your hands to scoot back into the corner of the couch, further away from her, "What're you doing in here? I don't have it."
"Have what?" She scrunched her eyebrows, and you could feel your heartrate picking up as she reached a hand out to you, but she pulled back when you followed it with wide, fear filled eyes, "I'm going to call Dr. Banner, okay? Don't move."
She got up to make the call in the kitchen and 'move' is exactly what you did. You slipped off the couch and hobbled to the door, unlocking it quickly before leaving without even bothering with a coat.
The cold air hit you like a truck, but you ignored it, trying not to slip down the steps on the ice. You just made it to the sidewalk when someone grabbed your arm hard enough to have you spinning into them and you glanced up, recognizing the witch's face of concern.
"You're going to get yourself killed," She scolded in warning and then her face softened when tears welled up in your eyes, "Y/n, I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to help you, I promise."
She had you lean on her as she led you back inside, missing the small, "You can't." that you sniffled under your breath, and sat you back down on the couch. She bundled you up in a blanket and made you a cup of hot chocolate, but before she could walk away after giving you the cup, you tugged on the sleeve of her sweater.
"How long?" Your broken whisper made her heart clench and when you added, "How long were you gone?"
She felt like she could cry.
"Three days, sweetheart," She brushed her fingertips over your temple, pushing back some of your hair, and then cupping your cheek gently as you nuzzled into the touch, whispering, "What happened while I was gone?"
Three days.
Days.
You had essentially vanished for three days since you weren't hungry, you weren't tired in a way where you had been up that entire time, and it was like she was gone for hours, not days. You didn't smell or feel uncomfortable like someone who hadn't showered in that long and your body wasn't stiff like you'd been lying here for seventy-two hours.
"I – I can't stay here," You went to get up, needing to just leave the place that was currently threatening to cave in on you, but she put her hand on your shoulder, slowing you down, and you peered up at her pleadingly, "Wanda, you don't understand."
"Okay," She nodded, a small, sad smile crossing her lips, "I'll pack some of your things and we'll meet Bruce at the tower."
"Not far enough," You shook your head, looking around like someone or something was going to come from around the corner or crawl out of one of the cupboards any second, "I – I have a p – plane and I need to," You were shivering, your words stuttering as your teeth chattered, and she shushed you softly, pulling the blanket further around you, "I need to be on the other side of the world or...a different...different planet."
Both of you knew what was coming out was jumbled and fragmented, more so than you thought it sounded, so when you calmed down, she went about her original plan. She went upstairs after handing you your phone in case she didn't hear you call for her and started packing a few bags for you. The only thing that was keeping you sane was that you truly believed that that was actually Wanda and that even if you couldn't go to someplace like Norway, at least you were getting out of this house.
Something caught your eye on the kitchen island, and it was what had you thinking your three-day nightmare trip wasn't all it was chalked up to be.
Because sitting on the marble island was the same plate of raspberry white chocolate fudge brownies.
