Chapter Three

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Wanda had been staying in the bunker just close to two weeks now, and she had even helped with research on a couple of hunts that Sam and Dean managed to find locally. However, the thought of her brother hadn't really left her mind since she spoke about him the first night she had arrived.

Currently, Wanda was stood in the kitchen, making peprikash.

"Oh, hey." Dean said, rubbing his eyes as he entered the kitchen to find Wanda stood by the stove.

"Hey,"

"What are you doing up?" Dean asked, moving towards the coffee pot. "It's three in the morning."

"I know." She answered, "But I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"The same...I guess."

Wanda studied Dean for a moment. He'd fallen asleep in his clothes again. Usually, when he slept through the night, he'd wake up in a t-shirt, boxers and his robe. But, whenever he slept in his clothes, it was always a nightmare.

"You wanna talk about it?" Wanda asked, stiring the pot.

"Not really."

Wanda just nodded, Dean sitting down, letting the smell of both Wanda's cooking and coffee fill his nostrils.

However, Dean now watched Wanda.

She moved around the kitchen as though she was gliding. She wore grey joggers and a burgandy hoddie, her hair loosly tied back. However, Dean now spotted something different. A locket.

"Where'd you get it from?" Dean asked, filling the silence.

Wanda looked around for a moment before realising what he was talking about. "Oh, my brother. He gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago."

"Do you keep in contact?" Dean asked.

Wanda just shook her head, saying nothing. "He...A few years ago, Sokovia - it's where I'm from. A war broke out-"

"Wasn't that the country that started-"

"Flying? Yeah." Wanda answered, "Well, Pietro and I, we were there. We had teamed up with The Avengers. But, at the last minute...Pietro was shot. 10 bullets tore through him and the moment they did I just felt...everything."

Tears made their way to the front of Wanda's eyes, but she didn't do anything.

"He died protecting one of the team."

"So why didn't you want to stay with the team?" Dean asked, watching as Wanda slowly opened up to him.

She'd barely said anything to him that wasn't about where a body was burried or where to find a certain store or person.

"They wanted to keep me locked up." Wanda admitted. "Keep me under control, but truthfully, I couldn't do it. I just kept getting...hit with these waves. It was just...constant, endless nothingness. And every time I would go to stand up again, it would hit even harder. So, I ran."

Dean nodded, allowing her to explain, but with each word, it was as though Dean could feel her pain. The idea of even losing Sam sent Dean over the edge, never mind feeling as though the bullets were ripping through him, too.

"You said under control? What do you-"

However, before he could finish, Wanda just raised a hand and wiggled her fingers as though the magic that came from her fingers was a little animal, chasing its tail. To which, Dean went silent.

Dean went to speak, but no words came from his mouth.

"An experiment." Wanda told him. "Strucker. He wanted soldiers and Pietro and I, we were the only survivers from it."

Dean just nodded. And Wanda just looked to him. She was a witch. She was one of the things Sam and Dean hunted.

"You don't have to worry." Wanda told him. "I can't kill with them. It's more of just telekenisis and -"

"Mind control." Dean answered, looking to her, some of the softness from his eyes gone.

"I know I'm something else." Wanda told him, "But, I am still me...I think. But, that's not what everyone else sees."

"If you want me gone, Dean. I'll go."

However, Dean shook his head. Usually, he'd be the first to shoot her and then ask her questions later, but there was something about Wanda that made him trust her. She wasn't like the other witches with hex bags and a seance. She was some form of other witch.

"No, no." He told her, "It's not that. I guess...I'm not use to..."

"Being civil with someone of my kind?" Wanda asked, holding a smirk. "Don't worry. I wouldn't hurt you, or your brother. But piss me off, then I won't hesitate to turn you into a pickled herring."

Dean watched her for a moment, trying to decide if she was being serious.

"You...you can't actually....can you do that?"

Wanda laughed, turning back to the pot before turning the stove off and giving it one last stir. "Don't provoke me."

Smiling, Wanda took out a bowl before dishing two up, handing one to Dean.

"What's this?"

"Peprikash." Wanda told him. "My mom used to make it for me when I was little."

"It's good." Dean said, eating a few spoonfulls before taking a drink of his coffee.

Wanda smiled and spoke softly. "I'm glad you like it."

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