conquer • wanda maximoff

「 FIVE 」

The memory fell apart around them, and now she found herself in the same place but on the opposite side of the wall, inside the operating theatre.

"Be quiet, child!" a doctor hissed at the small blonde girl who now lay on the table. She whimpered and sobbed as he connected different wires to her, each of them visibly shocking her as they were placed on her skin.

Ayana felt each of the shocks on her own body as she watched, and she found a tear rolled down her cheek as she observed her younger self.

"Why are you doing this?" she spat at Michael who stood in the corner of the room, watching, silent.

"A new patient is required," he told her emotionlessly. "Your abilities mirror your mother's. You are the perfect subject. The perfect weapon."

"You bastard," Ayana hissed.

She lunged at him and they flew together through the wall, the memory disintergrating around them as another, more recent one formed. Michael knelt on the floor at Ayana's feet, his hands up in a surrender which she was destined to ignore.

"Ayana, sweetheart," he said calmly. "You don't want to do this."

"Believe me, dad," she spat the last word as if it were poison on her tongue, "You killed my mum. I really do."

Ayana's hands shook as a gunshot echoed around the room and Michael fell to the floor in front of her, his eyes open but unseeing. Blood pooled around his head, trickling out of his nose and eyes. She let out a gasp and threw the gun to the floor, her hands flying to her mouth in shock.

"Ana," Wanda appeared in front of her, in the clothes HYDRA had given to her. "What did you do?"

She mouthed wordlessly at her.

"You must go," she said urgently, guiding Ayana away from her father's dead body. "Now."

"Come with me," she pleaded, her voice hoarse and sounding far away.

Wanda looked at her sadly. "You know that I can't  Leave, now, and I will send the guards the other way."

Ayana took one last, fleeting look at Wanda before turning and sprinting down the staircase, making it halfway down a corridor before alarms began to blare, and red emergency lights started to flash overhead.

"Austin! Ayana, c'mon, can you hear me?"

Her eyes snapped open and she found herself back on the ship. She was vaguely aware of Clint kneeling in front of her, his hands on her face as he attempted to make her focus on him. Ayana jerked away from him, stumbling as she gripped the stair rail in an attempt to pull herself to her feet.

"Take it easy," he told her, holding his hands out to support her in case she fell.

"I'm fine," she stuttered, feeling as though she was going to vomit.

"Yeah, of course you are."

When they were finally back on the quinjet, Ayana chose a seat as far away from everyone as she could get. She wrapped her arms around herself and avoided eye contact with the team, but it wasn't like they were in the mood to speak anymore than she was.