Escaping Maximoff

Slipping Through My Fingers

"Hey, y/n, what are you doing here so late?" Wanda held the door open, light streaming out of it in rays, illuminating my shivering form.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. All the sadness, anger, and pain I had ever felt came bursting out. Oceans streamed from my eyes as I stood outside Wanda's cottage, silent words falling from my lips. She rushed towards me, not hesitating to wrap her arms around my body, kneeling down so I could collapse into her warmth. I cried into her shoulder, the scent of Vanilla clouding my senses and calming me down slightly. She rubbed soothing circles on my back as she held me, whispering soft words into my ear. I tried to speak to Wanda, but the words disappeared in my throat, coming out as pathetic sobs.

"It's okay, take your time sweetheart," she cooed wiping the hair from my face and tucking it behind my ears.

"They left me," I choked out, finally saying the words that had plagued me for years. Wanda's eyes widened with realisation, a flicker of understanding crossing her face before she stood up and took me inside. The redhead bundled me up in a blanket and sat next to me on the sofa, reaching forward to dry my tear-streaked cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked softly, not wanting to pressure me into opening up about something I wasn't ready to speak about yet. I thought about it for a second before nodding. I prayed that I could get through the conversation without crying again, but I knew that wasn't possible.

"My parents, they left me when I was seven," I started, unable to bring myself to look into Wanda's eyes as I spoke; I was too scared of what I'd see. "They were agents for some kind of organisation, and decided that a space mission was more important than raising me. When they brought me here, to my aunt's, I thought it was just going to be like all the other missions. I was too young to fully understand what they really meant when they said goodbye. I didn't realise that I was never going to see them again." I let out a shaky breath before continuing. "They didn't want me. I wasn't enough for them. Sometimes I'm scared I'll never be enough for anyone." I lowered my voice at my last confession, embarrassed by the insecurity.

Wanda took my hands in hers and squeezed them gently, bringing me back to reality.

"You are more than enough y/n. Please don't ever think otherwise." A tear fell from my eye and she tenderly wiped it away, giving me a sad smile. "I know what it's like to lose people."

I nodded. Of course she had; I felt stupid that I'd forgotten who she was. She was an Avenger; they had known loss more than anyone.

"I lost my parents when I was young as well." She said, her green eyes gazing solemnly into mine. "I was willing to do anything to avenge them.
Anything. But nothing I could do would ever bring them back. It was just me and my brother for so long, just us against the world." She looked away, hiding her trembling lip and eyes full of tears desperate to escape.

"It's okay, I know what happened. Sam wouldn't shut up about how amazing he was, how he saved that child and Hawkeye. He was a hero. You're a hero."

"Y/n—" She started, but I interrupted her.

"No, Wanda, you are a hero. You're my hero." I told her truthfully, shifting closer to her in hopes she would meet my eyes again.

"You don't know what I've done, how many people I've hurt," she said, shaking her head, her lip held between her teeth.

"You're a good person, I know you are. It doesn't matter what you've done, just what you choose to do," I assured her, doing my best to put into words how I felt.

She looked back at me and lifted a hand to cup my cheek. "Are you real?"

I frowned, confused by the glimmer of fear in her eyes. She was being serious.

"I think so," I replied with a half-smile, reaching up to hold the hand on my face. She shook her head, but seemed somewhat soothed by my answer. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She took a deep breath. "Because nothing as good as you is ever real."

I didn't say anything. Ignoring all of the worries and doubts, Wanda thought I was enough. She believed that I was worthy of care, and that's all I had ever wanted.

I leaned forward and hugged her, savouring the way her arms protectively wrapped around me, enveloping me in her soft jumper and warmth. "I'm real," I mumbled into her neck, smiling as she let out a teary laugh.

"Good," she whispered back, the tension leaving her body as I embraced her. Wanda's arms tightened around me, not daring to let me go even for a second. I hadn't talked about my parents for years, even with Sam. I didn't want people to think that I wasn't okay, that I hadn't managed to move on. But Wanda was different, she would never judge me. She understood how I felt, and she would never make me feel bad for it.

A cold chill drifted through an open window, breaking me away from the redhead. "Is it snowing?" I asked with a small laugh.

Wanda nodded, moving to close the window. "I think it is," she replied, her fingers pushing the glass back in place. "Would you like to stay the night? I don't think it would be a good idea to walk back in this weather."

I nodded, the thought of trekking through snow in the dark not exactly appealing. I settled on the couch as Wanda went upstairs to her bedroom to get me another blanket, insisting that one was not enough. When she walked back into the living room, her face was less red and her hair had been put into a messy do. "This is my favourite blanket, take good care of it," she said, placing the red material gently over my body.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You have a favourite blanket?"

"Oh, shut up." She nudged my shoulder, a grin tugging at her lips. I guessed she just loved the colour red. Wanda walked over to the door, wishing me a quick goodnight before turning the light off.

I quickly realised why Wanda had a favourite blanket as the soft cotton enfolded me, lulling me off into a safe sleep, the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon wrapping me in the ghost of a hug.