Chapter Text
Six feet isn’t as deep as most people think. She knows that her head should be somewhere else, grieving those she’s lost, but all Wanda can think about is that she thought it would be deeper. She looks up for the first time of the service and notices everyone is crying. Suddenly she feels tears start to fall down her face. She feels a warm hand wrap around hers and give a reassuring squeeze. She knows it’s Steve. He has been her rock and confidant through her return. He’s there when she has her nightmares, and he’s there when she wakes up and forgets all that she’s lost. She turns to him and gives him a soft, barely noticeable smile. It’s all she can give and it takes all the energy from her. She has no reason to smile so why bother anymore?
Since the moment the dust settled Wanda has felt numb. She already buried her brother and then she couldn’t bury her love. She begged them to let her bury his body, let her finally put him to rest, but they told her it wasn’t possible. Sorry Ms. Maximoff, but he’s really the Government’s property now. Don’t worry we plan to study him and it should really help advance our weapons program. She was ready to kill the agent she spoke to before Steve stepped in and dragged her out of there. How dare he call him property! Vision was a person, he wasn’t meant to be owned, and he would never want to be used to create anything that would cause more harm than good. Steve just comforted her and promised to take care of it for her. Two weeks later, there she stood burying a casket she knew was empty, despite Steve’s insistence that it wasn’t, and stuck staring at a stone meant to represent everything Vision ever was. It didn’t do him justice, but how could it? How could a stone really show people that he was her heart? Her reason for breathing? That’s why now she stands here, tears flowing down her face and she feels nothing but cold as they bury Natasha. She loved Natasha, she really did, but once you witness so much death you become immune to it. And that’s what Wanda was now, immune.
Steve bumps her back, letting her know it’s her turn. She shuffles forward and lets the small handful of dirt fall onto the coffin as she says goodbye to yet another person in her short life.
*********************
“I’m gonna kill him.”
Wanda looks up from her coffee and sees Steve pacing in front of her. “Who?”
“He promised he would come! He needed this closure. I know he likes to act all tough, like this doesn’t get to him but he’s full of shit.”
Ah. She gets it now. “He told you he wasn’t going to come, I don’t know why you thought you had changed his mind.”
This has been a constant fighting topic in the compound recently. With all of the surviving members of the Avengers moving back into the Avengers compound Steve has made it his job to be every person’s grief counselor. He runs around most days like a chicken with his head cut off trying to make sure anyone who needs to talk has a shoulder to lean on, and that those who need more help can get the resources they need. Wanda knows it’s his way of coping, so she lets him help her, to an extent. She still keeps to herself, but when he asks her how she is she’ll muster up an “I’m trying” to satisfy him, like everyone else. Except for one person. Bucky Barnes refused to let his old friend anywhere near his grief, in fact he refused to let anyone near his grief. Wanda has walked in on more than one yelling match between the two best friends, Steve telling Bucky he’s there for him while Bucky swears up and down that he’s fine and has nothing left to grieve. It drives Steve up a wall.
“What is it going to take to get through to him?”
“Maybe he’s just grieving in his own way.” In all honesty, she doesn’t know if Bucky is grieving. Their rooms may be across the hall from each other, but Wanda couldn’t tell you a single fact about the man. He’s more stoic than the rest of them, never cracking jokes, making his breakfast before anyone is even up, and choosing to hide out in the training room rather than spending dinner with any of them. He even skips out on the mandatory movie night Steve plans every week. He was the first person to throw himself back into missions and now he’s rarely even there. She highly doubts he takes care of himself though, as she can hear the screams of night terrors and the footsteps as he wanders around the compound at all hours of the night. He’s haunted by his past, and in her opinion, it’s going to take more than a few mandatory movie nights to cheer him up.
********************
“Where were you?”
“Busy.”
“Really? One-word answers?”
“Yeah.”
“You missed her funeral Buck! What the hell was that about?!”
“For the last time Steve, I told you I’m fine! What is it going to take to get you to back off!” Steve leaves in an angry huff, refusing to look back at him. He felt bad about pushing him away, because per usual Steve was right, Bucky was decidedly not fine. He hadn’t been fine since before he was snapped out of existence only to reappear 5 years later, but things had taken a turn for the worst since then. Steve has been up his ass about grieving, but he didn’t really know her, a fact that haunts him, so in retrospect there shouldn’t be anything for him to grieve. Yet here he sits, locked away in his room with the feeling of a gaping hole in his heart.
She was supposed to be his fresh start. They had a plan, a solid plan before war and fighting came in and tore it apart. Now he was left with nothing but the remains of what could have been.
For the first week Bucky didn’t say a word. He didn’t say anything because he just couldn’t fathom that it was true. Then once it really set in he just wandered around in a funk he couldn’t shake. After three weeks Bucky threw himself into work and since then he has been able to breathe. Doing missions releases the weight that was crushing his chest, and finally let him feel some semblance of normal. Sure, he still had no desire to interact with anyone else in the tower, but he finally felt better. That is, until Steve bugs him and pushes his buttons. If he gets asked one more time, “How are you feeling”, he is going to drive his head straight into the wall.
“You know he’s not going to stop until you let him help you.” He jumps, quickly turning to see Wanda Maximoff standing in the doorway. She looks even worse than the last time he saw her two weeks ago. Her skin is paler than ever before, her cheeks have sunken in and her wrists look like they’ll snap at the faintest touch. He never really knew her. Wanda was around after his time obviously, and then he was frozen in Wakanda while she was on the run with Vision. In his opinion she’s gotten the worst end of the stick of any of them. He and Natasha never got to be anything, but her and Vision were. He would tell her this if he didn’t think she’d hit him or burst into tears.
“I’m fine. I don’t need his help anymore.” A lie, but one he’s trying to make himself believe. He waits for a comment, she always had one in the week they knew each other during the fight with Tony, but it doesn’t come. She just sighs, hunches her shoulders down ever so slightly and then walks away like she has nothing left to give. She’s too young to not have any fight left in her. He can hear her when she cries herself to sleep every night and when she screams the agonizing screams in the morning when she awakes from her dreams and it all comes flooding back to her. He was able to look past it and focus on himself, until now. He can’t be responsible for letting her fade away when she has so much life left to give.
*******************
It’s Tuesday, Wanda’s favorite day of the week. It her favorite because everyone is gone. Sam is running a VA meeting, Steve has his own grief counselling, Peter has tutoring, Carol has dinner with Monica, and Bucky is never around. It’s the day where she gets to just wander in utter silence for hours, pretending like nothing has changed. Before everything happened, Tuesdays were the days Vision would go down and hang around the lab with Tony and Bruce so she could have some alone time. It’s her favorite day because for a small second everything feels like it is supposed to.
She’s making her way to the kitchen when she stops in her tracks. Sitting at the kitchen island is Bucky. He doesn’t make a sound or move, but she knows he sees her. ‘What are you doing here?” It sounds colder than she intends.
“Needed a drink. Figured kitchen was my best bet.” She can’t help but be frustrated by his presence. Wanda quickly grabs her drink and a snack before taking off into the den to watch her I Love Lucy reruns. Sometimes she imagines that her and Vision get to be happy together in their own little sitcom world, but she knows that’s crazy. She’s settling in when she feels the couch dip in next to her. She whips her head around and just stares at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I figured you could use some company.”
“I’m good.” He persists.
“Are you sure? I know the idea of being left totally alone is great, but once you are it never feels as good as you want it too.” He’s right, but Wanda just isn’t in the mood. She hasn’t been in the mood for weeks.
“I told you I’m good. I want to be alone.” Bucky doesn’t budge, but Wanda doesn’t want to fight. She’s had enough fighting to last her a lifetime. She picks up her things and as she’s readying herself to go back and watch them in her room she feels a soft hand grip her wrist. She looks down and is shocked to see the pleading in his eyes.
“Please. I think I’m finally ready to admit I’m not fucking okay and that I’m sick of being alone so will you just indulge me this one time. You don’t have to talk, but let’s just be alone together.”
They sit in total silence, both refusing to make the first move. A part of her wants to tell him why Tuesday, but she won’t lose the unspoken battle. They sit like this until they hear the door open and Peter’s voice booms through the hallway. At the point Bucky quickly gets up before smiling down at her. “If you ever need to be not alone, I’m here for you.” She says nothing, not looking up as he walks away, but for the first time in a long time she feels less alone. She turns to thank him, but he’s already disappeared through the entryway. She’s not sure what prompted the man to park his ass right by her, but it was nicer than she thought it’d be. Peter runs in and starts giving the play by play of his day, but Wanda is just too distracted to even pretend like she’s paying attention.