Escaping Maximoff

The Sweet Escape

Sam always joked about me having noodle arms whenever we would climb trees. He'd be sitting at the top while I struggled to lift myself onto the first branch. I was never really bothered about being abnormally weak until I had to drag Wanda down the hallway to save both of our lives. Sure, training with her had helped a lot, but I still found it difficult to lift Sam's fat cat sometimes, let alone a whole ass human being.

"Wanda, I love you, but why do you have to be so heavy?" I groaned, holding tightly onto the thin arm draped around my neck. Although I was complaining about the unconscious human sack of potatoes next to me, it was hard not to notice how much weight she had lost. With one hand grasping her side, I could feel her ribs pressing against my fingers. The toll that captivity had taken on her was terrifying. I was frightened that the Wanda I knew was gone, that when she came to, she wouldn't be the same.

"We're almost there," Monica breathed out through gritted teeth, her voice as shaky as mine.

I didn't want to point out that we were only about halfway down the corridor, but even if I had, I wouldn't have had time because, at that moment, the elevator light flashed, indicating someone was coming onto the floor.

"Shit," I muttered, freezing instantly as if I had already accepted that we'd been caught.

Monica acted quickly. She draped Wanda's other arm around my free shoulder, and before I could blink she had kicked open the nearest door and pulled all three of us inside.

The room was mostly dark, with only a small barred window providing a sliver of light. Monica sat Wanda and me down in a corner while she crouched by the door, ready to take down whoever dared to open it.

For a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The realisation that I was finally in Wanda's embrace again dawned on me, though her arms were draped limply around my shaking body. I stared at her face, so pale it was as if she were the creation of moonlight – a sparkling angel. Even with a small cut on her lip and a few darkening bruises, I thought she was perfect.

A flutter of movement, a twitch of her eyelids, and I was suddenly staring into her emerald eyes. They were foggy and unfocused, but the fact that she was awake made my chest swell with happiness.

"Hey you," I whispered softly, gently lifting my hand to press against her cheek. She closed her eyes again and leaned into my touch, the effort of keeping them open proving to be too much. "It's okay, we're going to get you out of here."

Her skin felt cold, but she was warming by the second as the effects of the drugs slowly wore off. Though each wrist was still enclosed by a handcuff, Monica had managed to slice through them down the middle, skilfully avoiding the mechanism that would trigger them. Her hand, trembling slightly, slowly reached to grab the front of my shirt, gripping the material with more force than I thought she could possess considering what she had endured.

"Go."

My eyes widened, taken aback by the whispered words escaping her pale lips. She couldn't be serious. We had come all this way and almost gotten caught multiple times just for her to tell us to leave without her. She clearly wasn't thinking straight.

I shook my head and gently removed her fist's grip from my clothes. "No."

"We're out of time," she mumbled, her voice weak, a whisper I struggled to catch.

"Our time has only just begun," I said sweetly, smiling at her even though I knew she couldn't see it. I rubbed my fingers soothingly against her knuckles, trying to keep her grounded. "I'd do anything for you, Wanda. I know you'd do the same, so don't pretend you wouldn't be here if I were in your place."