Stiles The Avenger

Sokovia

Stiles strapped his sword to his back, and he looked down at his hands making fire flare up for a moment before putting it out.

Stiles walked by the armory and saw Wanda just standing there not sure what to do.

"You coming?" Stiles asked her, walking into the room.

Wanda turned and looked at him in surprise,"I'm not sure if I should," She replied.

Stiles looked at her sympathetically,"Sit down," He told her, as he pulled up a chair she hesitantly sat down in it, while Stiles got his own. When he sat down they faced each other, their knees almost touching.

"Why don't you want to come?" Stiles asked.

"It's my fault, my home is in danger because I believed that monster," Wanda said looking down.

"He manipulated you," Stiles said,"It's not your fault."

Wanda remained silent.

"You saw, right? What I was before," Stiles asked her, referring to Void.

Wanda hesitantly nodded.

"I closed myself off for a while, never letting anyone in again. And because of that it got my Father killed," Stiles admitted,"After that I lost myself, my dad was my anchor. The reason I stayed human, when I lost him..." Stiles choked on his words.

"What did you do?" Wanda asked, cautiously.

"I thought about my Mom," Stiles told her, and she just looked at him confused,"Look into my mind," He finally said.

Wanda visibly paled,"After what I put you through, you would let me in again?"

Stiles gave her a smile,"There's nothing you can do that will be worse than what I've already been through, trust me."

Stiles leaned forward, and Wanda hesitated a moment before putting her fingers to Stiles' temples red energy curling around them.

Stiles closed his eyes, and let her in.

The first thing Wanda felt was pain, excruciating pain. The scenes blurred through her eyelids, Stiles writhing on the ground as he burned with gold fire, Stiles being forced under water by Lydia when he sacrificed himself to the Nemeton, Gerard torchering Stiles as Erica and Boyd watched helplessly as the old man continued to beat him.

"You, poor, poor man," Wanda said, her voice cracking as tears fell down her face,"I don't even know how you survived this. All this pain."

"Look past it," Stiles told her.

"T-There's too much," Wanda sobbed.

"Look past it, Wanda," Stiles urged her calmly.

Wanda didn't know how, but slowly the pain stopped and all was dark in Stiles' mind, then a new memory filled it.

'My little Mischief,' A woman said, her head outlined by the sun setting in the distance obstructing her face from view, from what Wanda could see she had wavy, shoulder length, blonde hair. Her sun tanned hand reached out for Stiles to take.

The memory changed, and eight year old Stiles laid in a hammock with his mother as both of them looked up at the night sky, Stiles' mother told him about the millions of planets and stars that she hoped for him to see one day.

She turned her head towards him to reveal the face of a woman with whiskey brown eyes and a warm smile.

Wanda let go, and she leaned back in shock, her eyes fading from red back to green.

"Now do you understand?" Stiles asked her.

Wanda nodded.

"You did some bad things but that doesn't make you a bad person," Stiles told her,"But if you feel like you need to be redeemed, you need to put in the work, not just for yourself but also for your people."