TM 169: Fragile
ooc: Not a part of House of TM or current RP timeline. Takes place some time between Avengers Finale and House of M on Genosha. Thanks to starspangledcap for the beta.
Steve stood outside the house a long time before knocking. He didn't know what to expect. He'd dressed simply, out of uniform, nothing to suggest this was anything more than a casual visit to a sick friend. The truth was much more complicated. He took a deep breath and knocked.
It was Pietro who opened the door. His eyes widened in recognition and for a moment it looked like he was going to bolt, no doubt to grab Wanda from wherever she was and flee. But another man placed a hand on his arm and spoke quietly but with authority.
"She's safest here, Pietro," Magneto said, speaking to his son but eyes locked with the leader of the Avengers who stood before him. "We can handle this intrusion as necessary."
"I will have no fighting here, Erik." Xavier's voice was calm but as authoritative as Magneto's, if not more so.
Steve raised his hands in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I'm not looking for a fight," he said, "I've come alone, only one person even knows where I am."
"Stark can be here in minutes and with enough people to take over the island." Pietro said, still looking ready to vanish with his sister at any moment. Steve turned to face him directly.
"It's not Tony I told. I'm not here as an Avenger." He took in the others now. "I'm not here as Captain America. I'm a friend." They appeared to be listening; he lowered his hands and softened his voice. "I'm her friend. I just want to see her."
"He's telling the truth," Xavier said, addressing his old friend though he continued to watch Steve. "I don't sense any hostility or deception." Steve glanced from Xavier to Pietro and finally Magneto.
"Please come in, Mr. Rogers," Magneto said and moved aside to allow Steve to enter. Steve walked by Magneto and his son. Pietro was still glaring; Steve was saddened that Magneto seemed to trust him more than Pietro, who he'd fought beside for years. But, of course, he'd fought beside Wanda even longer and look how that had turned out.
The room was small but brightly lit. Magneto and Pietro had followed Steve in and now all three stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room. Xavier sat in his wheelchair off to the side. For a moment no one spoke.
"Welcome to Genosha, Captain Rogers," Xavier said. "Please, have a seat." Steve nodded politely and sat in the chair closest to the fire. Magneto sat opposite him but Pietro remained standing, arms crossed, his expression distrustful.
"Thank you, Professor," Steve said once seated.
"Of course, we wish the circumstances of your visit were happier."
"How is she?" Steve asked, hesitantly. The silence that met his question was deafening. Steve looked at each man in turn. Xavier's expression was concerned and weary; Magneto's was of haunted despair. But Pietro's expression was the most upsetting. He was no longer glaring at Steve but seemed transfixed on something only he could see, his face flitting between a deep sorrow and an even deeper rage. He seemed unbalanced. Like his twin.
"Her condition is stable," Xavier finally answered, "but unchanged." Steve looked at his hands. He took a deep breath and shifted in his seat; when he spoke his voice was tired.
"Can I see her?" He didn't know himself why it was so important. He hadn't been able to explain it to Logan when he'd confided where he was going. He didn't have any idea what he could possibly do to help but he wanted to try. He needed to see her.
"Of course." Xavier answered. Pietro straightened, glaring again, but Magneto put a hand on his son's shoulder and stood.
"I'll bring you to her," Magneto said. Steve stood and followed him down the hall and into a room in the back. The room was dark and sparsely furnished. Wanda lay sleeping on a low bed in the corner. One chair was set beside the bed, a book overturned upon the seat. Wanda's hands were folded over the blanket, her hair spread over the pillow. Her chest moved quietly up and down with her breath but otherwise the room was still and silent. Steve walked slowly to the bed. He watched her then reached out and brushed a hair back off her face.
"Wanda..." He spoke barely above a whisper.
Magneto watched from just inside the room. "You were close?" he asked, not unkindly. Steve wasn't certain how to answer. He'd known Wanda for so long, but the girl asleep in front of him seemed like someone completely different. His Wanda was delicate but not fragile, not broken. Maybe he hadn't known her at all. Yet they had been close, closer than anyone might have realized. Closer than either had ever come close to admitting until...until it was too late.
"I thought so." Steve answered, his voice tired and sad.
"Then perhaps..." Magneto said, "...you can help." Steve turned toward him, his expression questioning. "Charles and I have reached an impasse," Magneto explained. "We've done everything we can without her help. Unfortunately, we cannot reach her. She doesn't know Charles well enough to feel safe with him. She doesn't trust me." He said this ruefully. Though Steve hardly trusted him either he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the man. The powerful mutant terrorist Magneto was nowhere to be found and in his place was a sad old man clearly afraid for his daughter's life. "As for Pietro," Magneto continued, sighing, "He's barely more stable than she is at this point. But if you would be willing...maybe she'd trust you."
Steve wasn't entirely sure what Magneto was asking of him but it seemed clear this was the reason he had come. "I want to help, sir," he said, sincerely, "Tell me how I can."
+++
"Ready?" Xavier asked.
"As I'll ever be." Steve answered with somewhat less certainty than he'd like. They'd explained it as some kind of telepathic link. Steve had never been comfortable with telepathy but this was what was necessary. Xavier would be psychically joining his psyche to Wanda's - the hope was she would respond to him as she hadn't to her father or Xavier himself.
Steve found himself in a room very similar to the one he knew on some level he was still in. If anything the room was even more empty. It seemed to have no walls, no floor or ceiling, yet Steve felt vaguely claustrophobic. Wanda was still sleeping on the low bed before him.
"I know you." Steve turned at the voice. A young girl, maybe nine or ten years old, stepped out of the shadows. She was delicately exotic, her bright green eyes very familiar. "You're Captain America."
"Yes." Looking down Steve realized he was now wearing his uniform, the shield appearing in his hand.
"I'm Wanda," the girl said.
"Hello...Wanda," Steve said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.
"She's very pretty, isn't she?"
"What?" Steve asked, confused.
"Sleeping Beauty." Young Wanda pointed over to the Wanda who slept on the bed that would be in the corner if the corner were there. "That's what I call her. Because she's always sleeping just like in the story."
Steve glanced between the little girl and what he had assumed was the real Wanda, though now he wasn't sure. "Yes," he answered, quietly. "She's very pretty."
"But sad." Steve nodded in agreement, not trusting himself to speak. Young Wanda crept closer to him and he leaned down to meet her eyes. "I know a secret," she said. Steve raised his eyebrows. "She's really a witch." Steve's eyes widened. "Look." The girl pointed behind him and Steve turned to find a third vision of Wanda, this one painfully familiar. She was as he'd known her, dressed all in red, the Scarlet Witch, poised and powerful. As they watched her expression changed to one of barely contained fury. Her eyes glowed red with a depth of power he'd never imagined she could wield. The young Wanda screeched and hid behind him. Instinctively he raised his shield and gathered the girl in his free arm.
"She scares me!" Young Wanda cried into his shoulder where she hid her face. Steve looked at the girl trembling in his arms.
"She scares me too," he said.
"You know her," Young Wanda said as if she'd picked the information from within him. It wasn't a question but Steve was compelled to answer.
"Yes."
"She's....your friend," Young Wanda said, this time with wonder in her voice.
"Yes," he said again.
"Do you love her?" The little girl asked.
"I..." Steve was caught off guard. Of course he loved her. He loved them all. Tony, Carol, Hank, Jan, Clint, Simon, Sam, Scott...all of them. And anyway if he was completely honest with himself, Wanda had always been special. Of course he loved her. Maybe even...
But the little girl was speaking again. "If you love her you could wake her up. But first you have to kill the witch." Steve looked at her.
"I don't want to kill the witch." He spoke softly but with conviction.
"Why?"
"She's my friend too." The little girl's eyes narrowed; she didn't believe him. He set aside his shield and knelt beside her, meeting her eyes. "Wanda," Steve began, "I know you're scared but I'm here to help you." Her chin quivered and tears sprang to her eyes. He pulled her into his arms as she began to sob. Steve closed his eyes and held her, gently stroking her hair. When she finally calmed he opened his eyes.
They were back in the dark bedroom on Genosha. He was no longer in uniform and the Wanda he held curled in his arms was real. He glanced over her head and met Magneto's eyes from where he stood behind Xavier watching. They were full of hope.
Steve stood outside the house a long time before knocking. He didn't know what to expect. He'd dressed simply, out of uniform, nothing to suggest this was anything more than a casual visit to a sick friend. The truth was much more complicated. He took a deep breath and knocked.
It was Pietro who opened the door. His eyes widened in recognition and for a moment it looked like he was going to bolt, no doubt to grab Wanda from wherever she was and flee. But another man placed a hand on his arm and spoke quietly but with authority.
"She's safest here, Pietro," Magneto said, speaking to his son but eyes locked with the leader of the Avengers who stood before him. "We can handle this intrusion as necessary."
"I will have no fighting here, Erik." Xavier's voice was calm but as authoritative as Magneto's, if not more so.
Steve raised his hands in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I'm not looking for a fight," he said, "I've come alone, only one person even knows where I am."
"Stark can be here in minutes and with enough people to take over the island." Pietro said, still looking ready to vanish with his sister at any moment. Steve turned to face him directly.
"It's not Tony I told. I'm not here as an Avenger." He took in the others now. "I'm not here as Captain America. I'm a friend." They appeared to be listening; he lowered his hands and softened his voice. "I'm her friend. I just want to see her."
"He's telling the truth," Xavier said, addressing his old friend though he continued to watch Steve. "I don't sense any hostility or deception." Steve glanced from Xavier to Pietro and finally Magneto.
"Please come in, Mr. Rogers," Magneto said and moved aside to allow Steve to enter. Steve walked by Magneto and his son. Pietro was still glaring; Steve was saddened that Magneto seemed to trust him more than Pietro, who he'd fought beside for years. But, of course, he'd fought beside Wanda even longer and look how that had turned out.
The room was small but brightly lit. Magneto and Pietro had followed Steve in and now all three stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room. Xavier sat in his wheelchair off to the side. For a moment no one spoke.
"Welcome to Genosha, Captain Rogers," Xavier said. "Please, have a seat." Steve nodded politely and sat in the chair closest to the fire. Magneto sat opposite him but Pietro remained standing, arms crossed, his expression distrustful.
"Thank you, Professor," Steve said once seated.
"Of course, we wish the circumstances of your visit were happier."
"How is she?" Steve asked, hesitantly. The silence that met his question was deafening. Steve looked at each man in turn. Xavier's expression was concerned and weary; Magneto's was of haunted despair. But Pietro's expression was the most upsetting. He was no longer glaring at Steve but seemed transfixed on something only he could see, his face flitting between a deep sorrow and an even deeper rage. He seemed unbalanced. Like his twin.
"Her condition is stable," Xavier finally answered, "but unchanged." Steve looked at his hands. He took a deep breath and shifted in his seat; when he spoke his voice was tired.
"Can I see her?" He didn't know himself why it was so important. He hadn't been able to explain it to Logan when he'd confided where he was going. He didn't have any idea what he could possibly do to help but he wanted to try. He needed to see her.
"Of course." Xavier answered. Pietro straightened, glaring again, but Magneto put a hand on his son's shoulder and stood.
"I'll bring you to her," Magneto said. Steve stood and followed him down the hall and into a room in the back. The room was dark and sparsely furnished. Wanda lay sleeping on a low bed in the corner. One chair was set beside the bed, a book overturned upon the seat. Wanda's hands were folded over the blanket, her hair spread over the pillow. Her chest moved quietly up and down with her breath but otherwise the room was still and silent. Steve walked slowly to the bed. He watched her then reached out and brushed a hair back off her face.
"Wanda..." He spoke barely above a whisper.
Magneto watched from just inside the room. "You were close?" he asked, not unkindly. Steve wasn't certain how to answer. He'd known Wanda for so long, but the girl asleep in front of him seemed like someone completely different. His Wanda was delicate but not fragile, not broken. Maybe he hadn't known her at all. Yet they had been close, closer than anyone might have realized. Closer than either had ever come close to admitting until...until it was too late.
"I thought so." Steve answered, his voice tired and sad.
"Then perhaps..." Magneto said, "...you can help." Steve turned toward him, his expression questioning. "Charles and I have reached an impasse," Magneto explained. "We've done everything we can without her help. Unfortunately, we cannot reach her. She doesn't know Charles well enough to feel safe with him. She doesn't trust me." He said this ruefully. Though Steve hardly trusted him either he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the man. The powerful mutant terrorist Magneto was nowhere to be found and in his place was a sad old man clearly afraid for his daughter's life. "As for Pietro," Magneto continued, sighing, "He's barely more stable than she is at this point. But if you would be willing...maybe she'd trust you."
Steve wasn't entirely sure what Magneto was asking of him but it seemed clear this was the reason he had come. "I want to help, sir," he said, sincerely, "Tell me how I can."
+++
"Ready?" Xavier asked.
"As I'll ever be." Steve answered with somewhat less certainty than he'd like. They'd explained it as some kind of telepathic link. Steve had never been comfortable with telepathy but this was what was necessary. Xavier would be psychically joining his psyche to Wanda's - the hope was she would respond to him as she hadn't to her father or Xavier himself.
Steve found himself in a room very similar to the one he knew on some level he was still in. If anything the room was even more empty. It seemed to have no walls, no floor or ceiling, yet Steve felt vaguely claustrophobic. Wanda was still sleeping on the low bed before him.
"I know you." Steve turned at the voice. A young girl, maybe nine or ten years old, stepped out of the shadows. She was delicately exotic, her bright green eyes very familiar. "You're Captain America."
"Yes." Looking down Steve realized he was now wearing his uniform, the shield appearing in his hand.
"I'm Wanda," the girl said.
"Hello...Wanda," Steve said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.
"She's very pretty, isn't she?"
"What?" Steve asked, confused.
"Sleeping Beauty." Young Wanda pointed over to the Wanda who slept on the bed that would be in the corner if the corner were there. "That's what I call her. Because she's always sleeping just like in the story."
Steve glanced between the little girl and what he had assumed was the real Wanda, though now he wasn't sure. "Yes," he answered, quietly. "She's very pretty."
"But sad." Steve nodded in agreement, not trusting himself to speak. Young Wanda crept closer to him and he leaned down to meet her eyes. "I know a secret," she said. Steve raised his eyebrows. "She's really a witch." Steve's eyes widened. "Look." The girl pointed behind him and Steve turned to find a third vision of Wanda, this one painfully familiar. She was as he'd known her, dressed all in red, the Scarlet Witch, poised and powerful. As they watched her expression changed to one of barely contained fury. Her eyes glowed red with a depth of power he'd never imagined she could wield. The young Wanda screeched and hid behind him. Instinctively he raised his shield and gathered the girl in his free arm.
"She scares me!" Young Wanda cried into his shoulder where she hid her face. Steve looked at the girl trembling in his arms.
"She scares me too," he said.
"You know her," Young Wanda said as if she'd picked the information from within him. It wasn't a question but Steve was compelled to answer.
"Yes."
"She's....your friend," Young Wanda said, this time with wonder in her voice.
"Yes," he said again.
"Do you love her?" The little girl asked.
"I..." Steve was caught off guard. Of course he loved her. He loved them all. Tony, Carol, Hank, Jan, Clint, Simon, Sam, Scott...all of them. And anyway if he was completely honest with himself, Wanda had always been special. Of course he loved her. Maybe even...
But the little girl was speaking again. "If you love her you could wake her up. But first you have to kill the witch." Steve looked at her.
"I don't want to kill the witch." He spoke softly but with conviction.
"Why?"
"She's my friend too." The little girl's eyes narrowed; she didn't believe him. He set aside his shield and knelt beside her, meeting her eyes. "Wanda," Steve began, "I know you're scared but I'm here to help you." Her chin quivered and tears sprang to her eyes. He pulled her into his arms as she began to sob. Steve closed his eyes and held her, gently stroking her hair. When she finally calmed he opened his eyes.
They were back in the dark bedroom on Genosha. He was no longer in uniform and the Wanda he held curled in his arms was real. He glanced over her head and met Magneto's eyes from where he stood behind Xavier watching. They were full of hope.