Long Time, No See [wanda maximoff]

Chapter 17

I went immediately to my room and closed the door. I sobbed into my pillow. I felt so guilty and angry at the same time. I wanted to make Mabuz pay for what she had done.

I cried myself to sleep that night, not even changing my clothes.

My POV:

As soon as I stepped into the apartment, I saw the two HYDRA agents that came with me. I gulped. I knew exactly what they were going to do. One of them stepped forward and punched me in the stomach. The other punched me in the face.

They continued to beat me until I couldn't move anymore. Any emotion and power I had earlier had completely left me.

When they left, I stayed on the floor. It hurt to much to move. I passed out.

***

I woke up in the morning, still on the floor. The sun was just starting to rise. I coughed a few times and grunted as I sat up. I grabbed my stomach and the side of the table next to me, pulling myself up. I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I started to clean up the cuts on my face.

I turned on the shower and quickly got in. The water stung my open wounds. I looked at my leg. I had a deep gash that went from right below my hip, to my knee. It would need stitches.

Damn it

I quickly got out of the shower and got the first aid kit from under the sink. I sat on the toilet seat and got to work. The pain was excruciating. By the time I was done, my hands were covered in blood and the cut was already starting to bruise.

I got dressed as quickly as possible, being carful with my leg. I hobbled out to the living room and sat in my chair.

I knew that person was watching me again. They probably saw me get up and struggle to the bathroom. I turned and opened the window. I took a deep breath. I started to hum a song I heard a few days ago. For the first time, I felt carefree and calm.

Wandas POV:

I watched as she struggled to make her way to the bathroom and shut the door. I could almost hear her cries as she stitched her wound. I watched her limp to her chair and open the window.

I almost felt bad for her. Almost. I had to remind myself of what she did. She kidnapped a child and beat up the father almost killing him.

A question kept nagging at the back of my head.

What if she had a reason? What if she thought she was doing the right thing?

I couldn't read her thoughts. She had put up walls around her mind, blocking me out.

As I watched her looking out the window, she seemed calm, peaceful almost. For the first time ever, she was relaxed.