The Broken Ballerina | Wanda Maximoff [slow updates]

chapter eleven

---

I woke up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, my heart racing. That wasn't what made me panic more. It wasn't what made my breathing stutter as I tried to grasp my surroundings. 

I was sweating but my room was cool, a breeze was blowing through it. Through my hyperventilation, I stumbled to my window. It was shut. 

"Stop," I muttered, falling onto the floor. "Stop."

It wouldn't, in fact it got worse. 

"FRIDAY, get Natasha please," I cried. 

It felt like forever before Natasha finally burst into my room. She rushed toward me. I was still on the ground, my head in my hands.

"Anya?" 

I nodded. 

"Anya? Is this you?" 

I nodded again. 

"How long?"

"Since Ultron," I managed to stutter out, between my staggered breathing. 

Eventually, she managed to calm me down, using the grounding technique she'd been taught a while back. She pulled me up, sitting me on my bed.

"You have to tell me stuff like this, Anya," she scolded. 

"I was scared," I admitted. "It meant that whatever they did to me is still affecting me."

"But it would explain everything that's happening to you," she added. 

I nodded again. 

"I want to go to sleep," I muttered, turning away from her and lying down on my bed. 

I heard her sigh before she left my room. I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep now, so I lay there until my alarm went off. 

To say I was exhausted was an understatement. I turned over and turned off my alarm before continuing to stare at the ceiling. I managed to control my powers once, I could do it again. I hoped. It didn't help that my original powers would still flare-up. There was still this fear that one day I would lose control completely and kill those around me. Wanda just reminded me of that fear. 

There was a knock at my door. I didn't say anything but they entered anyway. It was Nat, her footsteps were lighter than the others. 

"What if it's fear that does this?" I questioned. "In the red room, I was scared, more so than I had been in ever and now Wanda shows me my worst fears and this happens."

"It's one theory. It makes sense, but before we figure out why we've gotta help you control it."

"I know," I muttered. 

---

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. Nat had been training me all day, making sure no one else knew what was happening, at my request. That meant no one else was allowed in the training room, which was a relief to most of them, that they could have a day off. I didn't exactly want anyone to worry about me, what was the point?

I fell down onto my bed when I got back into my room, ignoring my stomach rumbling. I pulled my blanket over me and let sleep consume me as my eyelids felt heavier and heavier. 

Again, I was awoken by my nightmares. The screams of everyone in the compound as they burnt to death echoed through my head. My hands gripped my ears, trying to stop them. It was pointless. I lay back down, steadying my breathing, hoping I would fall back to sleep but once again I couldn't.

I sighed, throwing my covers off of me and making my way to the kitchen. I made myself a coffee. I took a sip as I heard footsteps approach from down the hall. The footsteps were heavier than Nat's but lighter than the others'.

"Anya?" I heard a voice question. 

"Morning, Wanda," I greeted. 

"It's kind of early for coffee, isn't it?" She asked. 

"Not when you're not gonna fall back to sleep," I answered. "What are you doing up?"

She sighed. "I couldn't sleep. I keep seeing him there, dead."

I nodded, taking a sip of my coffee. "Nightmares."

"What do I do?" 

"I can't stop your nightmares," I explained. "Sometimes sleeping with a light on helps, or listening to music." I shrugged. 

She paused, seemingly thinking it over. 

"Anything is worth a try," she muttered.

"Coffee?"

She stared at the new mug I had picked up before she nodded. I poured her a coffee, handing it to her. I jumped onto the counter.

"What did you dream about?" 

"I set everyone on fire," I admitted, not making eye contact with her. 

"But you won't," she reassured. 

"You don't know that, Wanda," I argued. "I haven't always had that much control."

"But you're not a bad person, you've saved so many people, Anya," she comforted. 

She placed her hand on my arm. I shrugged it off. 

"I was an assassin, Wanda, I have more red on my ledger than you will ever have. I killed more people than you can imagine. Don't make me out to be a hero when I'm not."

I sighed, sliding off the kitchen counter before making my way back into my room, locking the door behind me.