Written in Blood - Reader x Wanda / Reader x Natasha

Chapter Two

After willingly returning to your cell, there's been little to do but amuse yourself by intimidating the newly placed armed guards. They flinch every time you move, knowing full well the walls of the chamber will do nothing to hold you should you wish to make an escape.

You don't, of course. But it's still fun to watch them twitch nervously as you press closely to the glass.

They're on the outside looking in. You wonder what they see. A vicious beast, perhaps? Smirking and snarling and baring her teeth. A killer. Maybe you've even killed some of their friends – fellow agents whose blood stained your lips, simply because they were in your way.

In Hydra's way.

So much death at your hands. To stop and think about it would be to drown in it.

"Open the doors."

The unfamiliar voice puts an end to that dark train of thought, as a new figure stands before your cell. A woman. Young. Beautiful. Eyes weighed down by sorrow and caution.

At once you recognise the grief that clings to her. You know grief better than you know yourself, after all.

The doors open, and she steps inside without fear, radiating a rare kind of power. Her scent surrounds you at once, tantalising and overwhelming in equal measure.

"Another visitor?" You raise a brow. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"They asked me to read you," she replies. You can't quite place her accent. Eastern European, certainly, but where specifically you couldn't say.

"A telepath? You mean they don't trust my story? And here I thought I had an honest face."

She stubbornly resists a smile. "They also asked me to give you this totally-not-gross pouch of blood." She holds it out with what can only be described as an adorable scrunch of her nose.

It's almost embarrassing, how quickly you snatch the pouch from her hand to take a sip. It isn't until the first drop of blood touches your tongue that you realise how much your thirst has grown. A slight moan escapes your lips. Your visitor has the decency not to comment, yet her cheeks colour slightly all the same.

"Kind and beautiful. Thank you." More red rises in her cheeks at your words, and finally the smile she's been fighting wins its battle, lighting up her whole face. Her soft laugh and the slight roll of her eyes does nothing to dim it.

You find you like her smile quite a bit. "So, bringer of pouched goods... what should I call you?"

"The name's Wanda."

Wanda. The name is somewhat familiar, but the why escapes you.

"A pleasure." You dip your head courteously. "I'd introduce myself too, but it seems a bit of a moot point since you're about to take a dive into my psyche."

Grimacing, you meet her eyes a little more seriously. "I do have to warn you, though... it might not be a pleasant experience."

"Thanks, but I think I can handle it."

"Fair enough." You shrug. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

She nods once, before taking a step into your space, holding your gaze intently. She's somehow even more stunning up close, as a deep red begins to seep into the green of her irises.

For a moment, her gaze dips to your lips, then she meets your eyes once more. "This shouldn't hurt," she whispers, bringing a hand up to your temple, fingers twisting through the air as your vision starts to swim and the world slips away.

Her voice echoes in your mind.

What is your name?

Your brain supplies her with a dozen pseudonyms you've used over the years before you can even think. Then your given name, and that of your family, both of which you haven't heard from another's lips in far too long.