In Darkness, Be My Light

Relapse

Warning: Depictions of self-harm.

"Can you promise me that you will try to fight those troubling thoughts?"

"Yes, I will. I will for you."

Those were the words she promised him during the episode she experienced almost two years ago. Soon she would make a promise to her fiancé in a matter of months, but that's not what she's thinking about at this moment, sitting on the bathroom floor. The bathroom was connected to her bedroom, so she found that it would be convenient in a few months when kicks her bladder, but that's not what she's thinking about now either.

It has only been a week or so when she watched—no, participated in her fiancé's death. She didn't have a choice. Well, according to Vision and everyone else. Although he was alive and well like nothing had happened (besides the two scars on his chest which are not visible due to the Regeneration Cradle), she had to kill him. She experienced all of it. She was still, in a sense, grieving.

Vision had to take his part in dealing with more HYDRA agents, which she did not appreciate Rogers assigning that task to him, and has been gone for more than two days. She wanted to go with him, but Steve insisted that she take a psychological evaluation before joining...and she failed. She was in no condition to take part in a mission.

All she wanted the week, maybe the entire month, to stay by his side with no interruptions. The first few nights were the hardest when they returned to the Compound. She cried with him. Yes, he openly cried with her.

So, now, she's on the bathroom floor, sobbing into her knees, arms wrapped around her legs. Her hair was dry from not showering the past few days, though, Vision insisted that she at least keep decent hygiene and eat something. Oh, yes, she hardly ate during the first and second day. He convinced her to eat full meals when he alerted her to how their baby could be affected if she didn't eat the right amount of proteins and kept a healthy diet.

She didn't feel like eating now, however.

The rumbling in her stomach did nothing to shake her; only her sobs caused her to tremble. All she wanted was to curl up with Vision while he whispered comfort to her, dammit. She clenched her teeth as she felt an oncoming eruption of frustrated emotions. She tensed and her eyes stung.

Screw it, she thought and stood up dizzily. She clenched the bathroom counter as she was confused with the swell of anger and grief she felt. Her nose scrunched. If only Vis were here, then maybe I would feel better. Steve, you bitch.

Before opening the drawer, she looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Her hair was scruffy and she had bags under her bloodshot eyes. It just made her more insecure.

She flew the right drawer open, almost causing it to unhinge, and pulled out a razor blade, carefully pulling out one of the blades connected to it. Her eyes swelled with tears. She remembered her promise to Vision from two years ago and looked at her engagement ring. She hasn't taken it off since he proposed, but she ignored the reflection of light as she tried to forget what she promised to him when she was at her lowest of lows.

This situation couldn't compare to what she experienced in the Raft, but she felt as equally as empty as she did when she escaped.

Before she could change her mind, she used her right hand to slit her left (her right was still in a sling, so she bent over a little to reach) and almost cried out. She forgot how it felt to do this. When she hesitantly looked down, she clenched her teeth. Uh oh. She went too deep than she wanted too, but there's no changing that, and she hardened herself for another, and another, and...

"Wanda?" came a voice from outside the bathroom door. It was Vision. He's back early?

She almost gasped and turned around, sighing. "Yeah?" she responded as normally as she could, but it came out distressed. She winced as she realized that he might have noticed.

There was a pause until he spoke again, "Is...everything alright, dear?"

Shit. She couldn't lie to him, he'd notice her cuts if she walked out or tried to cover them up. She was wearing a T-Shirt unlike her usually long-sleeved attire. "Y-yes?" she said anyways.

And another moment of silence. She knew that he figured that something was wrong. She would probably have swung open the door to greet him. Oh, shit. The door. She didn't lock it. She couldn't now, he'd notice.

"Are you sure?" he asked, sounding more concerned this time.

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a pained "I'm sure."

The knob turned and she froze. She couldn't put away the blade fast enough, much less clean up the fresh, oozing blood which was dripping down the sides of her arm.

When the door opened, she saw Vision's concerned face turn into immediate trouble, anguish. "Wanda?"

She let out a high-pitched, horrified sob. "I'm sorry," she cried, almost embarrassed to be caught like this by him.

He quickly went over to her and with a terribly pained look in his eyes, grabbed her arm and scanned it. He looked up at her with unbelief but softened when he saw her expression and fast-falling tears. He pulled her into a hug, remembering to not hurt her healing arm.

She bit the insides of her cheeks as she tried to stop more sobs from spilling.

"Wanda, you promised me that you would stop this," he whispered into her hair, smoothing it down with his hand.

She nodded into his chest and sobbed out, "I know, I know. I'm sorry." She was sure that he would be extremely disappointed in her, probably not want to see her for the rest of the day. Maybe.

He shook his head against her and murmured, "Your thoughts are loud, darling. I won't leave you." He pulled away and gently sat her down against the wall, and searched for the aid kit in one of the counter's drawers. He pulled it out and gathered the right materials to help her.

Vision sighed as he remembered doing this for her on her birthday a couple of years ago. That's when she promised him. He cleaned up the mess of blood on her arm and carefully cleaned, stitched if needed, and wrapped a fresh gauze around her arm.

He tilted her chin up to look at him, but she still looked down as she said, "I'm a disaster."

"No, you're not a disaster. You are in pain. I should have declined the mission and stayed here with you knowing full well that you are in no condition to be alone." He kissed her cheek.

"But you needed to go."

He shook his head in disagreement. "I did not need to. There are many others who could have taken my place."

She leaned into him and sighed into his chest. "I didn't want to kill you, Vis," she whispered.

He held onto her hand, squeezing it comfortingly, fingers grazing her engagement ring, and muttered, "But you had to." And he pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Take me to bed? I'm tired," she murmured.

He smiled at her. "Of course. But Wanda, please," he started and placed a hand over her belly, "if I'm away, call me when you feel like this again. I don't want you to suffer alone. You should not have to."

She nodded against him. "Okay," she said, small.

And while he carried her, her emotional exhaustion let her quickly drift into a dreamless sleep.