Chapter Text
Wanda couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her mouth as she lifted a battered car door and threw it fiercely at yet another alien. It smashed spectacularly into it, sending splashes of its blue blood sailing through the air. Some of it landed on Wanda’s face, and she cringed at the cool and sticky consistency. The sun was beginning to set behind her, providing the Avengers with a soft amber backdrop for their fight. The clouds overhead had cleared since earlier on in the day, but there were still stubborn ones sticking around, obscuring quite a bit of the sky from view. The sickly sweet smell of blood in the air was so strong it was almost tangible. It was so foul that Wanda was close to gagging every time she drew blood from the aliens.
The mission was supposed to be simple, Wanda thought to herself bitterly as she fought off another round of the ugly creatures. They were orangey-brown in colour, with sharp thorns sprouting from their limbs and drool almost always hanging precariously from their grotesque mouths. The Avengers had no idea that these aliens would be the defence system of the large terrorist group they had been expected to shut down. Even after 5 months of observing the group, they had somehow failed to discover the army of space mutants that they had somehow coerced into serving as their guards. Wanda could tell that the rest of the Avengers were equally as displeased as her about the revelation. Clint was especially annoyed; he had been hoping to spend Christmas at home this year, instead of in a hospital bed like last year. Wanda silently prayed he would remain relatively unharmed. She knew how much his family meant to him. He swore viciously down the comms and Wanda saw the familiar glint of his arrow flying over her head and into the creature behind her. It fell to the ground with a squelchy thud. She eyed it with disgust, she had never seen such a disgusting thing in all of her life.
The searing pain in her side almost elicited yet another groan from her mouth, however this time Wanda wisely bit it back, knowing that eventually somebody would question the sounds and become suspicious. She didn’t want to bring up her wound in the middle of the battle, it would be stupid to distract the team whilst they themselves were in danger. When it first happened, she had decided to just wait until later, once everything was over. Of course, that was before the aliens showed up and everything went to shit. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then, but it had been long enough that blood coated her side in a thick, tar-like consistency, and she was starting to feel slightly lightheaded. Dread had begun to creep into her stomach a couple minutes ago, when she had caught sight of a trail of red splatters that followed her where ever she went, as if she was laying bloody breadcrumbs like the siblings in the children’s story Pietro loved so much as a child. Wanda, personally, never understood why. The children were kicked out of their home, what was so entertaining about that?
In hindsight, Wanda knew she shouldn’t have ripped the knife out, it had probably made things worse, but there was a job to do and she barely even thought about the consequences until afterwards. Now, she was barely holding it together as the ground tilted dangerously beneath her. Wanda only just managed to stay on her feet as she stumbled unsteadily towards a wall nearby. Gasping, she made her way around to the back of the wall, hidden away from the aliens, and grit her teeth as she unceremoniously slid down onto the dirty concrete, which was already stained red with her blood.
The agony slicing up and down her side was unbearable. The slightest movement felt, quite literally, like another knife to her side. Her shaking hands were now covering the gaping wound and she was alarmed at how quickly they turned scarlet, the blood that was spilling out of her side coated them completely. She felt bile burning at the back of her throat as another wave of dizziness hit, and her vision tunnelled dangerously. Her breaths burst out if her mouth in short, quick gasps, each one hurting more and more. Hot, salty tears streamed down her face as she dug her teeth into her bottom lip in a fruitless attempt to divert the pain elsewhere. All that achieved, though, was drawing more blood. The coppery taste on her tongue made her feel nauseous.
She was vaguely aware of the team conversing over the comms, but the noise of her heart pounding in her ears reverberated around her head, making it difficult to understand what they were saying. Distantly, she noticed that the sounds of battle that she had slowly become accustomed to that dreary afternoon had ceased, and an eerie silence had filled the air. Wanda hoped that meant they won. She wanted nothing more than to go home and climb into her bed, which was so big she could stretch her arms and legs all the way out like a starfish and still not feel the ends of the sheets. Her room in the Avengers tower followed the same theme throughout; everything was massive, excessively so, though Wanda supposed when you had money it didn’t matter. And if there was one thing Tony Stark had, it was money.
“Wanda? You there, kid?” Clint’s voice asked, breaking Wanda out of her dazed daydreaming. For a moment, Wanda looked around for him in confusion, before she realised he had talked over the comms. Before she could even process what he had said, more voices were speaking.
“Hey, has anyone got eyes on the kid?” Tony asked, something akin to concern leaking into his voice.
“The young spider is with me, Stark” Thor’s voice boomed, and Wanda winced at its volume.
“No, not that kid, different kid. God, we have too many kids, why do we have so many kids?” Tony rambled down the comms, and Peter immediately began to insist he wasn’t a child in a very indignant (yet, somehow, still polite) tone. Clint impatiently interrupted him, silencing Peter instantly.
“Has anyone got eyes on Wanda?”
There was silence for a few moments, and Wanda could imagine everyone looking around for her or her signature sparks and swirls of red energy floating through the air. She wanted to speak up and tell them she was okay, but she suddenly felt extremely weak. It was as if somebody had sucked all of the energy out of her, leaving an exhausted shell behind. At some point, her eyes had closed, and she fought to open them again. The pain in her side had dulled considerably, which she assumed was probably a bad sign, but it felt so good to be free of the biting agony that Wanda found she didn’t care.
Various replies filtered through the comms, all different, but all with the same general consensus.
“Nobody has eyes on her? No one?” Natasha asked again, even though they all knew the answer. Icy fear settled deep in their stomachs as they were all met with silence on the comms.
“Friday, activate ‘baby witch’ protocol and tell me Wanda’s location” Tony commanded. If Wanda hadn’t of been so drowsy, she would have been offended. Since when did Stark put a tracker in her suit? And create a protocol for her? She supposed it didn’t matter, it was certainly proving to be useful now.
“Sir, Miss Maximoff’s tracker was damaged in battle. I am unable to locate her” Friday replied in her monotonous and unperturbed tone.
Or not, Wanda thought regrettably. She probably shouldn’t have jinxed it.
Tony swore, and it was a testament to the gravity of the situation that nobody (not even Stark himself) made a quip about his ‘language’. Wanda’s glazed eyes blinked sluggishly back open when she realised Clint was talking directly to her again.
“Wanda, if you can hear us, tell us where you are, okay? We can come get you, just say something” he pleaded.
He sounded worried, and Wanda wondered why. She was okay, it didn’t even hurt anymore. She barely noticed herself sliding further down the wall as her hands slipped off of the wound and into her lap. Her vision was so fuzzy she couldn’t even see a couple feet in front of her, and chills were making her body spasm every so often. The blood was still oozing out of her side, but Wanda didn’t even register that anymore. She was just glad the pain was gone. She could feel herself slipping away, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she shouldn’t fall asleep. She didn’t remember why, all she knew was that it was a bad idea.
Everyone was frantically shouting down the comms now. They were searching for her. They were worried. She wished she could tell them where she was, but simply opening her mouth took so much effort. One voice in particular stood out to her, though.
“Mr. Stark, do you think Wanda is hurt?” Peter asked, his voice abnormally high. Wanda’s heart sank to the bottom of her stomach. Even semi-conscious, she could hear the child-like terror which was evident in his shaky voice. She forced herself to swallow roughly before trying once again to reply. There was no way she could continue to let Peter worry over her, not when he had already lost so many people. The two youngest Avengers had grown to be quite good friends, so much so that sometimes the Avengers would joke about Wanda acting like an older sister towards Peter. She didn’t mind their banter though. In fact, she actually quite liked the idea of having a brother again. She felt guilty initially, but over time she realised that Pietro would be glad she had found a new family. Despite how mental and dysfunctional it was.
“I-I’m okay” she slurred softly, and for a moment, the gripping fear in her heart spiked when she thought they didn’t hear her.
“Wait…wait! Everyone shut up!” Stark yelled, and immediately there was quiet.
“Kid? You there?”
Wanda panted heavily as she struggled to muster up the energy to reply. Her vison was dotted with black spots now, and she knew she didn’t have long till she fell unconscious.
“I’m here” she replied tiredly. She heard multiple people sigh in relief.
“Are you okay?”
“Where are you?”
“Oh, thank God”
That last one was Peter. She almost smiled at his reply, but it quickly morphed into a grimace as she attempted to shift farther up the wall. She didn’t want to lie down, that would make her fall asleep quicker.
“I’m hurt. Stab wound. Think I’m gonna faint” she gritted out, taking sharp breaths between each statement. It was taking massive amounts of effort to reply, and at once point she very nearly did faint.
“Jesus Christ- Okay, okay. Don’t worry, okay? We’re going to help you, we just need to know where you are” Stark answered, stating the last part slowly and firmly, which Wanda was grateful for as it was easier to process what he was asking of her. The only problem was, she had no idea where she was. She couldn’t remember, and from her place behind the wall, she couldn’t see either.
“I don’t know” she admitted shakily, her damp eyes already darting around her surroundings desperately for anything that she could use to help them find her. The weight of her own exhaustion was crushing, and it made her eyelids heavy and her mind slow. She could barely think straight, and her constant darkened vision made it hard to see.
“That’s okay, Wanda. Can you see anything around you?” Stark asked in a comforting tone, which had little effect as Wanda was close to screaming because she couldn’t see. Muffling a frightened sob, Wanda shook her head.
“Kid? Eyes open, Wanda. I need you to answer me” Tony cried out, and Wanda realised she hadn’t answered verbally.
“It hurts” she said instead. She didn’t mean to say that, the words just spilled out of her mouth. It felt like somebody had stuffed cotton balls in her brain.
Tony swore again, and Wanda found it strange that he was the only one there. Maybe everyone else went home. Wanda wanted to go home.
“I know, I know Wanda, we’re going to get you home soon, okay? I just need you to stay awake” Tony reassured her, but his voice lacked conviction. She hadn’t realised she said that out loud, or maybe Tony had was magic too, and he could read her mind. That would be nice, she didn’t like being the only weird one.
It struck Wanda for the first time that she could die there, alone, hidden behind a brick wall in a pool of her own blood. The realisation was like a slap to the face. The sheer terror coursing through her veins was the only thing keeping her conscious at this point, because she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to die, not then. At one point, months before, just after Pietro’s death, she was ready for it. Accepting of it, even. But not now, she still had so much to do, so much to make up for. She couldn’t die now.
Stark continued to speak to her over the comms, but his voice soon became like white noise on the radio when you switch to the wrong channel and it washed over her in soothing waves. Sometimes, she would hear him talking to Friday (she found herself giggling at the absurdity of the name, what kind of name is Friday for a machine?) and other times he would be talking to her, urging her to stay awake.
It was strange, for most of her life she had hated, no, detested the man talking to her for what he had done to her family. But now, not only did she respect him, but she liked him. She liked Tony Stark, and it was clear that Stark liked her too, or at the very least, cared about her wellbeing. It was a relationship that was rocky at the beginning, but over time (and after a stuttered apology on both parts late one night after a nightmare so bad Friday had to alert Tony because her heart rate was so elevated) they slowly started to build the foundations for a comradery, a friendship. And Wanda was surprisingly grateful for the unexpected turn of events. It felt good to fight alongside Iron Man. But, more than that, it felt good to be friends with Stark. Plus, he gave Wanda a huge room with a TV, so she could hardly complain.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as she listened to Tony’s voice. She had no clue what he was saying, but she listened anyway. His voice filled the silence, it made her feel less alone. Darkness encompassed her as she began to float away from the cold, blood soaked ground, finally free from the exhaustion and the agony in her side. For a second, Tony’s panicked voice still filtered through into her mind, and then…there was quiet.
“Kid? Wanda, hey? Are you there? You need to stay awake, Wanda! Friday knows where you are, I’m coming right now, just- hang on!” Stark begged desperately as he zoomed through the broken streets of New York. Yet more destruction that S.H.I.E.L.D would have his ass for, but he had bigger things to worry about at that point.
“Friday, stats” he ordered, narrowly dodging a dislodged piece of metalwork hanging from a building.
“Blood pressure is low and dropping. Heart rate is low. Miss Maximoff has lost a large amount of blood. If she does not receive medical care soon, she will die” Friday informed him serenely. Tony’s breath hitched as terror raced across his entire body.
“No-no! There is no way this kid is dying on me, Friday. I’m not going to be the cause of all the Maximoff deaths for fucks sake” he bit out resentfully, forcing his thrusters to their maximum capacity.
Speeding through the air, he managed to reach Wanda’s location, speaking to her all the while. He didn’t think she could hear him, but the constant reassurances were more for his benefit than Wanda’s, it made him feel less helpless, like he was actually doing something to aid her.
Finally, after what felt like the longest flight of his life, he touched down to the ground and bolted over to an old, brick wall that Wanda was sat behind. As he rounded the corner, his brown eyes widened almost comically in horror.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was met with.