Chapter 17

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James POV

The sound of a bird hitting my window woke me up. I didn't sleep heavily. It took me a while to get to sleep last night. Wanda's light kiss had kept me awake for a couple of hours before I managed to sleep. The whole evening was difficult for me to get my head around.

Even though the memories were only remembered yesterday, it was as if i had also known since it had happened, since I killed them. I killed my parents and my sister. I have killed hundreds of people, but none of those had ties that personal.

I shook my head and threw the sheet off of me. I didn't want to think about it. They were dead and I was over it. I went to the oversized window that Stark had fitted into every room, watching the skyline begin to get brighter. I glanced at the clock. It was 4:26 in the morning.

I changed into workout gear and headed to the gym for my morning ritual. I started with a half an hour jog, followed by a half hour cycling machine and boxed until I got bored or tired, which rarely happened.

I tightly wrapped my knuckles, securing them in the white bandage material. As I began boxing, my mind couldn't help but drift back to my family.

I felt that I had already come to terms with it, which I knew would surprise Wanda. Some part of me knew that I had done it, but I put it to the back of my mind like everything else that happened over that time period. I had killed my family, but the time for mourning wasn't now. When my mind is better, yes, but not now.

I punched the bag again and again, feeling my biceps work. Stark had fitted in extra strength punch bags for people like Steve and I so we would break them. Thor had his own extra extra strength one, not that I had seen him recently or at all.

When it reached 6am, Steve entered the gym. He waved over to me when he entered and I waved back. We seemed to be on good terms since our discussion yesterday. I knew that he would stop pestering me. If he didn't, I would consider leaving, but there was something, or someone, that would hold me back. She wouldn't allow me to leave without a fight. It was a nice comfort.

"How was Wanda yesterday?" Steve asked, slipping on his own boxing bandages. I frowned at him.

"It was fine, why?" I asked, pretending to focus on the punchbag. My main focus was on why Steve was asking me. Had somebody heard about or even heard the damage I had done to Wanda's wall last night? Did JARVIS tell someone?

Steve shrugged. "Just wondering how the whole process was going for you," he replied casually with a shrug. I relaxed, knowing that Steve would bring up if he heard something. He didn't seem suspicious of me, so I didn't mention it. I didn't know whether Wanda had wanted to make a cover story for the incident anyway.

I needed to go and see her. The wall needed...serious repairs and I wasn't just going to let her do them. I decided that I would spend the day fixing my mistake.

"It's going okay." I aimed a kick to the side of the bag. "I think it takes a toll on her though. She gets quite tired from it."

I could almost feel Steve's curiosity peak at that. Sure enough, when I turned around his eyebrow was raised. "How does it all work them?"

I huffed a laugh and shook my head. "I don't know pal, I just see what she creates."

"And what does she create?" This time around, it didn't feel like an interrogation from Steve. I even slipped up and called him 'pal' without realising. He sounded genuinely interested in my wellbeing. He was before, but it didn't feel friendly. Instead, his questions felt hostile.

"You really wanna know?" The word 'punk' came to lips, but I pushed it back down. I didn't want to call him that yet.

He nodded eagerly, forgetting his hand wrappings and turning to face me. As he crossed his arms across his chest, I started to explain.

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