In Darkness, Be My Light

The Talk

Warning: Self-harm, references to abuse, and slight references to rape.

There was a knock at the door then Natasha walked in. She locked the door behind her and sat down next to Wanda. Natasha noticed that she looked nervous and concerned.

"Don't worry, honey. Everything is okay. We need to move locations. I'll tell you the reason why later. But for right now I'll help you pack, okay?" she asked.

Wanda nodded and hugged herself like she was cold or sick. This was going to be her life now, she realized. Constantly moving from location to location, never stopping. She never had a stable life before. Ever since she and Pietro were orphaned at 10, they constantly moved homes, and sometimes went homeless. It was the only life she ever knew. Emotions got the best of her.

She was slammed against the wall of her cell. She cried out in pain. She gripped the arm that held her throat. She started to lose her sight. She felt like she would pass out. A chuckle came out of the guard's throat and he pulled out something. A large butcher knife. She gasped with the air she had left in her and screamed in pain when he cut the side of her thigh. It would surely leave a mark.

"Wanda?" came Natasha's voice. "Wanda, are you okay?"

She blinked a couple of times, coming back to reality, and nodded her head firmly. Natasha narrowed her eyes and sighed. "I know," she whispered when Wanda traced her hand down the scar on her thigh through her leggings.

"Come on, let's pack up," Natasha said and stood up. "It'll ease your mind." Wanda stood up and followed her to where a spacious duffel bag lay.

She sat on the floor and Natasha handed her the unfamiliar clothing to put inside. She stacked her shirts and pants, as well as her undergarments. When Natasha reached a couple of the hoodies on the bottom drawer, she let out a soft gasp.

"Wanda, what's... what's this?" she asked and pulled out a small pocket knife that lay under the stack of hoodies.

Wanda's eyes widened. She swallowed hard and watched as Natasha studied the knife.

"Did you... use this on yourself or is this for protection?" she asked.

Wanda just sat still, eyes on the pocket knife.

"Wanda, answer me," her voice became firm, but she was still trying to be quiet. "What did you do?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed and she reached for Wanda's right arm and dragged the sleeve up. No cuts. When she reached for her left arm, Wanda stopped her hand.

"What do you not want me to see?" Natasha asked fiercely.

Wanda bit her lip and let go of her hand. Natasha reached for her other sleeve and gently pulled it up. Her face hardened with fear as her predictions were correct. A few cuts stained her arm. There were three that were close to her elbow. They're still fresh so this must have been at least within a day, Natasha assumed.

Natasha softened as she saw Wanda's scared expression. She's scared that I'll be angry with her, Natasha thought. "Shhh, I'm not upset. It's okay. I understand," she whispered as she pulled a sobbing Wanda into a hug.

"We can talk on the way to where we're going. The team needs to know about your unstable condition," she said.

Wanda pulled away and shook her head frantically.

"They need to know, Wanda. I'll talk to them since I know interacting with them, with anyone, is extremely hard for you, okay? You don't have to do anything, but I want you to rest," she quietly and sweetly said.