Wanda cannot look at Clint. Clint, who has been her father, who so effortlessly stepped into such big shoes and instead of tripping, he'd just gritted his teeth and tightened the laces.

Clint had not said a word since her declaration to Vision, since she had demanded that he do her bidding. It is what she is good at, making other do what she commands. That is what they hurl at her. Who does she think she is? A God? Much more like the line of Lucifer himself. Wanda is a master of the mind, or so that is what they believe. She is when it comes to physical pain. But when with words, well, she can only master what she says. There is no escape for what others put inside of her head, and maybe that is her karma.

There had been no attempt at control, when she had told Vision to take her to Tony Stark. She had not needed it. A genuine request overrides any other force she could have mustered up.

So they sit now in silence, in the place that Wanda had called home only a month ago, and she does not think about Steve. Sweet Steve, and herself, the wicked witch. They are no match for one another. She does not think about Steve, safe Steve, with his steady warm hands. Serene Steve, with his capability to make her feel the kind of safe where you can sleep anywhere, and know that you will be okay when you're no longer conscious to look after yourself.

Perhaps they are all overreacting. They keep saying that Steve will be upset, that he will not like what she is doing. As good as Steve has been, in the time that they have been doing whatever it is they are doing, she has not handed him her rights. She is still her own keeper, and she believes that she is in her right mind about this, at least. Some things you must face, must do so you can continue.

Sad Steve, looking at her in that disappointed way where he needs no words.

Wanda stands; she does not want to think about Steve anymore. Vision and Clint snap to her attention, and she almost laughs. They would say, what is it about Wanda Maximoff that inspires such loyalty, from such great men? She would tell them that their is their answer - they are great men. It is not what she does, but how they are.

She gives each of them a smile that she hopes is comforting. Clint frowns but leans back in his chair. Vision remains standing, watchful as she heads to her old room. It is still the same as she left. There's photographs pinned to a cork board. She brushes her fingers over one of her and her brother, wishing instead of feeling the thin material, she could feel his face instead. Would he be proud of what she is about to do? The paper in her pocket with her scribbled words feels heavier now than it ever did in the face of her brother.

"Hello, Wanda," Tony interrupts her, and she turns to face him. He stands by the door, leaning against the frame, almost like he has to ask permission to enter. Something he had always been respectable about when she had lived here. How long ago that seems now.

"Hello, Tony Stark."

"Always with the last name," he sighs, and she shrugs. Some habits are hard to break. She walks over to the door now and he steps away, and they both end up at the table at the same time. Clint has already taken a seat, and Vision waits until Wanda sits, before taking the place beside her. Tony sits across from her, folds his hands and then leans across the table expectantly.

Wanda waits, too, and it is not for long.

"I want you to explain to me exactly why I should let you do what you have requested, when I know only too well of what I will be bringing on upon not only myself, but you as well. So explain to me kiddo, why I should grant you your request."

"You would not be asking me this, if the answer was no," Wanda started slowly, and Tony raised his eyebrows at her but did not interrupt.

"You have grown enough to perhaps tell me no, and then kindly state the reasons as to how you reached that determination. But you would not open up with this. More so, that you agree with what I have requested, because it has always been in your way, and you wish for me to soothe any doubts. Well, Tony, I could do this on my own, without even the respect of a request. It would not be done as neatly, no doubt. But here I am, after everything, asking for your help, because together we may have a chance at righting some wrongs, and if not that, then at least we can give the people something else they want - an explanation, an insight. They will never know truly, of course, what it is like to be one of us. What we face, how quickly we must decide and choose, what we have lost in becoming what we are. Who we have lost. Are you soothed now, Tony Stark? I will do this with or without you, but it is in everybody's best interests, I believe, to do this together, and under you, who has the most control with the media, and the most knowledge."

There is a stunned silence then. There are no more objections from Clint, who sits there in grim acknowledgement of what she has said. Vision looks thoughtful, and Wanda cannot read the darkness in Tony's eyes. Maybe she has insulted him. She is not sure, it has always been harder to read the man than any of the them. Tony lets out a little sigh and leans back, looking up at the ceiling, as if he is seeing his mind's calculations on it.

"You are Steve's no doubt," he finally says.

"I beg your pardon?" She's surprised at such a bold statement, even though she shouldn't be. Tony Stark has never been afraid to speak exactly what he thinks, no matter the subject and to whom is he speaking to.

"You are Steve's," Tony repeats. "Only one of his would use such a way to drive the point home. Alright. We'll do it. I won't lie and say that I don't already have it set up. Are you ready then? Have you written what it is you want to say? You only get the one chance to do it properly, Wanda."

"I am ready," Wanda says calmly back, and she stands, her fingers going to her pockets.

Tony stands too, and eyes Clint and Vision as they flank her.

"I figured as such," he commented warily, and looked for a moment as if he'd like to venture down that particular path of conversation. "However, I do not suggest it. If anyone is to go in with her, I think it should be me. As Wanda so...cleverly...stated, I am the one who knows how to best control the media, and if things turn ugly, then I am the knowledgeable one in that, too."

"He's right. I will see you on the other side," Wanda half jokes, because where is the lie when she knows that what she is about to do will tip and flip things? Clint still looks angry. He appears to be seconds from dragging her away from all of this, and locking her in room. To keep her safe, and to keep her from doing such silly things. Well, Tony tried that, and look where it got him. But Clint is not Tony.

"You don't have to do this, and if you want an out, take it," Clint says seriously to her, but Wanda is already shaking her head before he is finished.

"Thank you for supporting me, even when you disagree. That is love, and I love you too," she tells him. She turns but not before she sees the surprised look on Clint's face. His hand shoots out, and she still cannot help the flinch she does anytime someone comes near, or touches her. Clint is getting better at handling this. He still pauses, but it is not as long, and this time she has to squint to see it.

"You know I love you." His voice is serious, and she feels almost foolish as she stares up at him for thinking that she could ever have the last word with him. Those who underestimate this man are the true fools, though. They may have had something else in mind when they called him Hawkeye, but as he peers down back at her, all she can think of is the ferocious bird, doing what it must do to protect it's young, and no matter how she may feel - unworthy, not deserving of such a title - she is one of them. He lets her go and she swallows before Tony's at her side, hand against her back and ushering her forward. She does not get a chance to speak to Vision, who watches her as they brush past him.

"Look at me, Wanda. I'll be in the crowd. Keep your focus on me, and when it's time for questions, then I will be by your side to navigate you. It may get messy, and it may have been awhile, but I am here for you."

Wanda stops him then, right before the door.

"I haven't forgotten," she says to him, and he tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace. She is distracted from this as he pushes open the door, perhaps to get this over and done with, perhaps so they can not linger in conversations that neither of them wish to have with one another. The cameras flash at her, and people loom at her as one giant wall. She looks up in alarm at Tony, but he has already stepped in front of her, his arms stretched out, holding her safe behind him. In this move he commands the room to a sudden stop. He speaks then, and people hush to listen to him. Tony Stark has always been able to command people in this way. He is fluent in media, and this is the reason that he was chosen for this particular task. It is not so different from Steve, who can command a room, too. But he never uses means like Tony does - Steve's words are all stroked with the same branch of the brush - genuineness, peace ad love. And as Tony talks to the reports he's invited and leaders her up to the small podium, that is what Wanda concentrates on. Her own message, which she hope will follow in Steve's footsteps.

'After', Wanda calls it, is a blur. Questions are hurled at her, but Tony is having none of it, barking warnings at them as if he were her dog and only seconds away from attacking. She is lead down the couple of steps and out the door, and Clint and Vision are there, but she pushes past them because she needs to be alone, she needs to remember what exactly she said and how she said it.

"I'm alright," she gives to Clint, and she smiles and means it this time, and it's enough to appease him, because he lets her go back to her room. The muffled voices filter in and out of the crack at her closed door. She wishes they would stop, because she cannot hear herself over their own deliberations. She knows they mean well, because they always have, but she needs to think. She needs to know if she did it justice, if they believed her when she agreed that she deserved to suffer.

She lies down on her side, propping her head up with one hand, and stares at the wall, and the one photo that she placed there of her brother. She closes her eyes, hard this time, blocking out the rest and focusing on him. She can just see his outline, she can see the flash of white with his smile, almost hear his voice..

"Wanda."

Her eyes snap open and she jerks upright. Steve is staring down at her, his expression very pinched. She does not say anything, and nor does he as he takes her in. For once, she does not feel like a pathetic mess under his scrutiny. Perhaps it is because her eyes are clear, her hair neat and pinned up and away from her face. It is amazing what believing in yourself can feel like. She had very much forgotten.

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, and then he rubs at his eyebrows.

"Am I easier to deal with when I am a mess, Steve?" Wanda finds herself saying, and Steve drops his hand and looks at her, but he is not smiling.

"Can you explain to me why you would do this?" He asks and then folds his arms against his chest.

"Can you tell me then why I need to?" She says calmly back, leaning against the wall now, her shoulder just grazing the photo.

Steve takes a couple of steps until his knees hit the bed, and then he leans in, hovering over her now. Wanda's breath hitches, but she's not sure if it's because she is scared or because of an entirely different reason.

"Wanda," he says, and there's something about the way Steve says her name, that she cannot ignore.

"I had to do something. I could not - I had to do something. And now they know, Steve. So maybe it will help." Wanda can't look at him now, and she goes to rake a hand through her hair, but Steve catches it, and squeezes their fingers together. She looks at him, startled. Steve, the familiar, the safe, is now becoming unpredictable to her. This is new territory, and she's not sure when it's happened, or how to go back, or even if she wants to. She remembers when he touched her face earlier, and the feelings it evoked from her then, and she knows that she has to stop it, because it shouldn't be happening, whatever it is. She attempts to pull her hand away, but Steve only squeezes tighter. She slumps back against the wall, defeated.

"I'm not letting you go until you talk to me. I am tired of hearing stories from the others, it's time you started talking to me. I want to know why you would tell them that you deserve to suffer. I know that you have told us this, you've told us many times, not just with your words, but by other means, too. That wasn't fair, Wanda. You did not give us, give me, enough time to attempt to undo the damage that was done to you."

Wanda is stunned by his admission. She blinks up at him, and it is not because she is at a lost for words, it is because there is too much.

"I am not just another mission," she says very quietly, and pulls at her hands again in another feeble attempt to distance herself. Steve shakes his head, and a snort of disbelief escapes him. His grip marginally tightens again.

"Is that what you think this is, Wanda? That you are a mission?"

"Much of a muchness here, Steve. Now let go of me."

"Don't you understand? I'm not letting you go, sweetheart. Talk to me. Tell me why you did this." His voice is as soft as a breeze, and his expression is tender now as he looks down at her. She should be coaxed into doing as he bids, as she has been before, but she cannot help herself.

"Is it because I did not ask for your permission, Steve? You will not get an apology for this. I believed in it then and I believe in it now."

"Did I ask for an apology, Wanda? I have asked you to explain it to me. Apologising to me will not change anything. It won't change what you did - that you decided on your own to do this. You know it's not how we operate, and it astounds me that you think I would not question you, that I would not ask for you to explain your actions. After everything, do you not know that you're one of mine? No? Your expression tells me all. I did not think I had to put such things into words, but if I'm asking for it from you, then I suppose it would be hypocritical for me not to do the same thing."

"Steve please stop," she pleads now. "Please don't." She cannot hear it. She does not want to hear any declarations. She does not want to tie herself to anyone anymore, because it will then mean exactly what he is saying, that she cannot do things alone because people love her and she loves them, and she does not want that, because to be what she is, to do what she does, she needs to be alone. But Clint and Vision, and Steve, especially Steve, have a way of thrusting themselves into her life, no matter what she wants. Clint is different, he has his own family, his own wife and children. But Steve is - Steve is...

"No I won't stop. What do I have to do to make you understand?"

"Steve I know, I am an Avenger, I know..." She trails off at the look in his eyes. They are blazing, and very hot. She swallows, suddenly feeling feverish, and it's almost amusing that he can produce so much heat, because every time she thought of Steve, she thinks of ice, where he was once again reborn in. As they stare at each other, though, she sees him, and wonders why she never saw it before. Steve may be all things associated with 'cool', but he is Captain America because his passion for his people burns so bright that there is nothing that can put out that flame.

It is with that same fire, that he looks at her with now.

"Must I show you?" He says, and then he moves his hands away from hers, leaving them cold, but only for a moment as he takes her by the face, and then he kisses her.

A/N: Jesus Christ (sorry!) what the fuck was this. I don't even know where this came from. I'm not sure how I feel about it but it wrote itself so I just went along with it pretty much. It's been a loooong time and a lot has happened so I tried to keep the characters and the story as it was. I know Wanda is a little stronger here, and you can't blame her because she finally feels as though she has something back. In a twisted way I think that makes sense. Of course though, she has pretty much just thrown fuel into the fire.

As for the last scene.. again...I am what the fucking myself. I am really nervous about it but I had to put it out there. So I hope you liked it and I hope you will stick around for the next chapter!