Two of a Kind | Wanda Maximoff

Chapter 9: The Hug

Steve led Jemma out of the common room and down the hallway past the elevator that she just stepped foot out of. Steve explained the layout of the compound; the fourth floor (the floor they were on now) was the living quarters and had the common room and each person's bedroom, the third floor functioned as both training floor where the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents went to do hand-to-hand combat training and as a small headquarters for S.H.I.E.L.D., the second floor had all different types of labs, and the first floor was more training rooms that served as shooting galleries and gyms.

Steve and Jemma stopped in front of the second to last door at the end of the hall. The door was painted white and was plain, the only attempt at a decoration was the five black letters that spelled out "WANDA" that were stuck to the door. Steve took a step towards the door, leaned his head against it, and gave a gentle knock hoping he didn't startle her.

"Wanda? It's, uh, Steve. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he paused a second, waiting, hoping for a response from the brunette. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "Anyway...Jemma's here. She wanted to see how you were doing. Maybe you two could talk?" Steve sighed when he again didn't get a response. Jemma placed her hand on his arm and gave him a sad smile.

"Let me try," she whispered to him. He stepped out of the way, giving her access to the door and she knocked too, a little louder than Steve. "Hey Wanda, it's me, Jemma. I don't know if you remember me. You probably don't since we haven't seen each other in a few months. I was hoping we could talk...you know, catch up and all that." After a minute of silence, Jemma heard a light click. She cautiously reached for the doorknob and turned it, finding it unlocked. Jemma entered the room slowly, not knowing what she was about to walk into. Steve nodded to himself and left them alone, walking back down the hall. She'll talk to me when she's ready.

Wanda laid on her bed, face down in the many pillows that surrounded her. Her long brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and looked greasy, her face and eyes were red and puffy and she had dark circles forming under her eyes. She was dressed in a black jacket with white arrows running up the arms that seemed too big for her and grey sweatpants. The lights in the room were off, the only source of light coming from outside, but she had the blinds closed, leaving the room dark. Wadded tissues and an empty tissue box littered the floor, having been thrown around carelessly. Wanda's body laid still in her bed, still not speaking, but every couple seconds, she would inhale sharply. Jemma's heart broke as she looked at the young girl before her. She slowly walked over to the side of her bed and knelt in front of her face, trying to get her to look at her.

"Oh, Wanda," she said softly as she tucked a strand of her hair that fell out of the bun behind her ear. The girl shifted her eyes to look at Jemma and they started to water again. Jemma ran her thumb across the girl's cheek, catching any fallen tears. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, honey, it's okay."

"Why are you here?" Wanda asked her in a raw voice that cracked and wavered after each word. She hadn't spoken to anyone in months, no wonder she sounded like this. Jemma saw a glass sitting on the little table beside her. She picked it up, took it into the jointed bathroom and filled it with water, then she walked back over to Wanda and handed it to her. The girl took the glass and chugged the water, looking at Jemma with thanks. When she was finished, she placed the glass back on the table.

"I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing. Everyone's really worried about you; especially Nat." Wanda looked down; she didn't believe that they were worried about her.

"They're not worried about me. They don't care about me. They just want to make sure I won't blow up the building." Wanda's Sokovian accent came through as she spoke.