Electric Touch

Chapter Fifty-six

I knocked on Wanda's door, I didn't know why but I never felt comfortable walking right in like I did with Bucky and Peter. 

I was always worried she was projecting and I hated thinking I'd be barging in on her if she was with Tommy and Billy or Vision.

She already barely got to see them, I hated interrupting her.

She answered straight away through, her beautiful hair bouncing as she swung the door out of her way.

"Hey sweetie, are you okay?" She asked me, her Sokovian accent making me feel safe and comforted already.

"Can I come in and talk to you?" I wondered if she'd believe me, if she'd read my thoughts as I spoke them and take them in.

I didn't know how much Peter had actually believed, unconsciously or not. Maybe he'd always have doubts I wouldn't ever be able to belay.

"Of course." She moved back from the doorway to let me walk in, gently closing the door behind us.

"I didn't interrupt you did I?" I worried as I sat myself down in her desk chair, pulling my knees to my chest.

"A visit from you is never an interruption." She smiled at me as she sat on the end of her bed to face me.

I beamed back at her.

"What are you all determined about?" She'd clearly got a soft feel of what I was thinking but hadn't directly read my mind. She never did unless she got permission.

I didn't know where to start or what to say to her.

She started to look worried, probably picking up on my slight panic that was setting in.

"I'm not leaving." I told her, her worry changed to confusion.

She tilted her head at me.

"Last night Peter started freaking out about me running away, and Bucky said it's just a running theme here. I just wanted you to know, no matter what you're picking up in here." I pointed to my head, "I'm not going anywhere, even when I get thrown through windows. As long as you guys let me stay, I'm staying." I told her, struggling to keep looking directly at her. It had been a lot of feeling sharing the last twenty four hours for me.

She sighed sadly. "I don't want to think about you leaving, I don't like having doubts but it's hard Camila."

"I know, I get it. I'm not saying you're wrong for thinking it, my track record of dealing with traumatic shit isn't the best I know that. And I don't know if I can ever convince you all properly that I don't want to leave anymore but I realised I might just have to keep reassuring you. So I just wanted to reassure you. Do I like that I ended up on the news? Not really it creeps me out, was getting thrown through a window a good time? Definitely not I'd like to never repeat it. But it's not enough to make me run." I finished with a shrug, finally looking back up at her.

She was smiling at me with genuine warmth. "You're growing." She said.

"What?" I snorted.

"You're communicating, you're not actively avoiding dealing with things. Months ago I was scared to ask how you were feeling, every time I did you had the urge to run from the room, run from the building. Now you're letting yourself feel things, talk about things. It's beautiful to see." She said calmly, making me blush. 

"Don't get used to it." I muttered. Twenty plus years of avoiding everything I was feeling, avoiding talking and being in the same room as someone was hard to just forget about, hard to rewire my brain to do things a different way.