The Broken Ballerina | Wanda Maximoff [slow updates]

chapter ten

---

The new Avengers training had been going well, for the most part. Wanda held a shit ton of power, so helping her control it was a whole task in itself. Steve had pushed me to be the one to help her as apparently I had enough control over my powers, that he trusted me to do it. If only he knew. 

I was teaching her to fly using her powers. 

"You can move stuff with your mind, so theoretically you should be able to move yourself with your mind. Make sense?" I explained.

"Yes, but it's more complicated than that," she argued.

"Think of how you move other things and then use that on yourself," I instructed. "Focus on moving yourself up for now and we'll work on actually navigating later."

She huffed in response. The red began to extend from her hands and towards the ground. She started to lift herself up.

By the end of our session, she had successfully lifted herself up from the ground. So, I said we could try again tomorrow and move past that as I could see she was getting fed up.

"Come on, let's order pizza," I spoke, walking out of the training room, with her close behind me.

So, that's what we did. We sat in the living room that we shared with the others, a pizza between the pair of us as we watched some shitty reality TV show. Neither of us really spoke as we ate. Wanda's face made me assume she was thinking of Pietro. Her eyes looked glassy and she wasn't really focused on anything but her own thoughts.

"Wanda? You alright?"

She snapped out of her trance, nodding vigorously. 

"Yes, I'm fine," she reassured. 

"Liar."

I would have usually just left it but she looked like she needed to talk. I also knew at this time no one would bother us. Steve went on a run at this time, usually to let off some steam. Nat was in her room, having had enough with everyone around her and Tony was tinkering with his suits in the lab. Vision kept to himself a lot and Rhodey was probably with Tony. There was little chance that we would be interrupted. So I turned to her, ready to let her rant or cry or whatever she needed to do. 

She looked to me, eyes wide. 

"I won't push. You can talk if you want."

"I miss him," she admitted, her tears falling. 

"No, shit," I muttered. "I mean- shit, I don't know what I mean."

Wanda chuckled slightly at me. 

"No good with emotions, huh?" She questioned.

"I was trained to be an emotionless assassin, it's kind of hard to unwire yourself like that," I admitted. "Just ask Steve, he's been trying to understand how I feel for the past however many years. I don't do emotions. But you aren't trained that way, so how you feeling? Wanna stab someone? Blow something up? Commit arson?"

"I don't think normal people stab someone when they're upset," Wanda told. 

There was a pause between us as I shrugged and took another bite of my pizza. 

"I feel like it's my fault," she revealed. 

"Well, that's a lie. You didn't make him do that and don't use that 'if I'd just' bullshit," I began, turning towards her. "If you hadn't protected the vibranium shit more people would have died. That's the job, choose between the many or the individual and it sucks but it's not your fault."

"You were right." I turned to her in confusions. "You really don't do emotions."

"I'm working on it. We're friends or whatever, bonding over our same-sex attraction, so I will try," I stated.

"Thank you."

She pulled me into a hug. I froze for a second before hugging her back. 

"No problem," I muttered.

I patted her back, awkwardly, before I pulled away. 

"We are friends, Anya," she began. "Even if you don't want to admit it."