On The Run

The Safe House

Chapter 6: The safe House

It was full on dark when they got out of the restaurant and went to complete the last leg of their journey. Bucky offered to drive so Steve could get some sleep; he played classical music softly as they drove, lulling everyone into a kind of hazy security. Wanda fell asleep almost instantly, her head resting on Clint's shoulder; she hadn't meant to doze off like that but she'd been reading his magazine over his shoulder and another wave of exhaustion had caught her all at once. To his credit, Clint didn't push her off.

For the next few hours she drifted in and out of consciousness. Occasionally she would sort of wake up and look out the window to see them passing acres of dark farmlands or sleepy towns shuttered in the dark of night. The quietly conversed words of whoever happened to be awake would reach her through a veil; often she wouldn't be awake enough to hear what they said, hovering just on the cusp of sleep and awareness until she inevitably drifted off again. Sometimes she dreamed, sometimes she didn't; in her mind's eye she saw Pietro as he had looked when he was still alive, practically vibrating with energy as he laughed with her about something. This was no new occurrence; she'd been seeing him in her dreams ever since his untimely death-but unlike usual, tonight she saw Vision too. Not much, just once or twice she would find herself back in the kitchen before everything went downhill-before she realized she was a prisoner in her own home-standing at the kitchen sink and helping him find the paprika while trying not to laugh.

When she finally became fully awake again the moon had reached its summit, bathing the forest and meadows around them in stark white moonlight. Bucky had turned off the main road onto a gravel path that snapped and crackled beneath the tires. They followed this path for a good five or ten minutes, until a small house emerged out of the darkness that Wanda was sure had come right from a children's story. It was made of dark wood, standing like a sentry in the quiet night; in fact, it looked like something she and Pietro would have read about in one of their old storybooks.

The garage was dim and dark as Bucky parked the car and they all clambered out to take a good look around. It was crowded; Wanda could barely see anything in the dim light slanting through a small window above the carport apart from an old Model T that looked like it was about to fall apart, a couple of bags of golf clubs, a couple practice targets, and a few bow and arrow sets. They must have been hunters.

Steve rummaged around under a beat up old Welcome mat and pulled out a small yellow key-revealing an even more idyllic home indoors. It looked exactly like an honest to God cabin from an old movie; framed pictures of deer hung on the walls, pine cones adorned the wallpaper, and nearly everything was solid oak furniture. Wanda found herself loving it immediately.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," Steve said as he found a bottle of milk in the fridge and poured everyone generous glasses. "There should be five-someone's going to need to sleep downstairs."

"I've got it," Clint volunteered. "I want to go hunting tomorrow morning anyway; I think it's best if I don't wake anyone up."

Scott yawned, pushing his empty glass aside blearily, "Well, I'm beat. Can we save the walking tour until tomorrow and go upstairs instead? I think I'm about to fall asleep standing up." The clock on the wall said indifferently that it was 2:30 in the morning.

Steve nodded, "I think that's an excellent idea. I'll go out and buy some doughnuts in the morning, along with anything else we need for the next few days. We'll make a list once everyone's up. But I agree-we all need sleep."

Bedrooms were chosen at random. While Steve claimed the bedroom at the end of the hallway and Scott, Clint, and Sam tried to hash out rights to the remaining three, Wanda made a beeline for a small linen closet-which, on closer inspection, revealed a step ladder that led right up to a kind of dusty but no less cozy attic bedroom. Although it was devoid of photographs or anything that could tell her anything at all about who had lived here recently, the floral duvet was soft and warm and the pillows under her head were extremely soft. She let out a soft sigh of contentment as she lay back; the Raft felt like a dim and distant memory.

As she made herself comfortable, too tired to even begin to contemplate the events of the last four hours, her mind wandered to an unexpected source: Vision. She wondered what he was doing at this hour, whether he was wondering where she was. Despite their differences, they'd been friends; in fact, he had been one of the first friends she'd made after Sokovia. Of course, that didn't matter much now; even though he'd come through for her, they were still enemies. He was one of Tony Stark's Avengers; she had no choice but to cut him out of her life entirely because there was simply no reason he could ever be a part of it.

Still, she wondered what would happen if things were different-and she found herself missing him, a little bit. If she closed her eyes she could see him in one of the pullover sweaters he insisted on wearing every single day no matter what the season (because apparently androids' synthetic bodies were equipped with state of the art heating and cooling systems), watching her scramble eggs with his usual expression of open curiosity and healthy fascination-or hear his voice that day in the compound when he explained to her why she couldn't leave: not simply because Tony was ordering it but because he wanted to keep her safe. I just want the rest of the world to see you as I do.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She shouldn't be thinking about him; not now, not ever. She was in a different world, had nearly crossed over into a different life. It couldn't possibly last forever, but she could make the most of what time she did have.

We've been so busy being Avengers, we never really learned how to be normal. Maybe we never really were. But maybe things could be different; maybe it wasn't too late.

Maybe she could still learn.

Location: The Atlantic Ocean; The Raft

Vision watched with a practiced detachment as General Ross and a posse of other Raft guards examined the Avengers' empty cells, trying to figure out how they could have escaped or where they could be going. Although he kept his expression neutral, his mind was buzzing; Wanda had gotten out alive. She was safe now, probably miles away with the rest of the team. Perhaps not even sparing him a second though. And yet, that didn't really matter. He didn't really mind. He'd done what he could to protect her-and this time, he'd succeeded.

"Did you know about this," Tony muttered as they watched someone pick up a straitjacket that had been sawn nearly in half. He didn't seem to care either way; in public he talked about what a relief it was to have the Avengers off of his conscience but he hadn't exactly come running when he'd heard about what had happened.

He shook his head slowly, unwilling to reveal his secret just yet, "No, I did not." It was strange; he'd never thought of keeping secrets before, especially from Tony Stark. But something told him that this was a matter Tony couldn't know about; that he would only make things worse if Vision tried to explain it to him. So, reluctantly, he held his peace.

"Kind of lucky that they all got out like that."

"Well, they are Avengers," he said matter of factly.

Tony looked at the empty cells with eyes that Vision couldn't read, no matter how hard he tried, "Yes, I suppose they are." With that he left to go talk to General Ross, leaving Vision alone. Left to his own devices, Vizh let himself drift back to Wanda and the other members of Captain America's team; wishing them safe travels and a good night wherever they happened to be.