Something in Wanda was getting stronger.  Two years ago, she had tried to keep the flow of the Hudson at bay for no other purpose than to prove her own strength and control to herself.  Years ago, the task had drained her, overwhelmed her, and almost destroyed her.  The great power of the river that couldn’t be controlled--Wanda had learned that by now.  Some things simply couldn’t be controlled.  

She felt dizzy and sick, even laying in bed in the middle of the night.  In her mind’s eye, she could easily see herself laying in a little boat on that same river, laying on her back, looking up in the foggy night sky where there may have been stars.  The glow and clamor of the city she loved would serenade her as she tossed and turned in the slowing river and the growing waves of the ocean.  This time, she didn’t try to stop the flow.  She would go wherever the little boat took her.  

It was making her nauseous.  Perhaps it was only her guilty conscious that had done the job.  Or the hot night.  Or the way Vision had visited for the night.  She wished he hadn’t.  He was always awake and would either ask to come with her or ask why she needed to go to the roof.  Wanda didn’t want the company.  Already, he probably felt her heart and breathing quicken as she rose from sleep to dream, then from dream to wakefulness.  Only in her fully wakeful mindset was she tempted to shed a tear.  Her breath hitched, but she kept it quelled.  

Nothing of that seemed to matter now.  Everyone who was gone was gone.  There was no rewriting time.  There was no escape.  With everything she had and everything she was, why couldn’t she have been able to change something as simple as chronology?  That was so straightforward.  One thing happened after the next, but why?  Why did they have to happen that way?  

The unwellness seemed to grow stronger in her and Wanda sat up.  

“Wanda, are you alright?”  

“Of course, Vision.”  She stood and walked to the window.  In the New Avengers Facility, she was miles away from the river now.  She could see the glow in the distance of the city she loved.  It had been her home since she had arrived in America; first a dream and then her reality.  And now it was gone.  

“You are worried about something else.”  

Wanda placed a hand on the window ledge and then her chin on her fist.  “Yes and no.  I’m not worried...in the conventional sense of the feeling.  But I can’t shake what I’m feeling either.”  Guilt?  That was just static now.  Shame?  She only felt it when she thought about her victims.  Or when she thought about how easily she had gotten off the whole affair.  Technically, she had been doing her job.  Technically, it wasn’t her fault. 

But it was.  It wasn’t shame, either.  It was something deeper.  How diasporic it felt that Vision was the one to console her when he had done something so similar.  What a pair they made.  Technically, it wasn’t his fault, either.  

“If you should want to talk about it...” 

“Thank you.  Vision, I’ll keep it in mind.”  She really could see the stars from here.  Wanda turned and crossed the room, slipping on her tennis shoes along the way.  “I’m going up to the room.”  Come with me if you want.  

But either he didn’t feel like it or sensed that Wanda wanted to be alone, for thee robot stayed behind.  It was just as well.  Up on the roof, Wanda lay down next to the pool.  The heat from the day’s sun poured from the hot cement into her shoulders.  It felt good, and made her aware of just how tight the muscles there had gotten. 

It may have been minutes that Wanda lay like this, or much longer.  She may have nodded off, but she was awake when the sky started to lighten.  The sun wasn’t up yet, but the first of the early risers would be up soon.  It had been months since Wanda had even touched her powers for the littlest of things from lighting candles to party tricks.  

In a moment of defiance, she pointed straight above her.  Slowly, she let static energy come from her fingertips, dance around her hand, then form a globule just a few feet above her reach.  As she released her power, Wanda felt energy and tension leave her.  She grew sleepy.  Like wax, the globules of power lumped together in many spheres.  Wanda didn’t try to congeal them.  It was funny to watch what form it took.  Finally, as she felt herself nod off and her head hit the pavement--she must have been tensing ever so slightly for a better view--she stopped.  

Balls of crackling and hissing energy moved about like so many miniature stars.  Wanda spread her arms in front of her, then spread them out to the sides--the globs followed the movement, mirroring the night sky, illuminating the world in red.  Wanda snapped.  

The clip was echoed by a thousand louder pops.  All together, the noise was deafening.  Some flew away in the shapes of birds.  Some melted like snow or fell to pieces like old flowers.  Nobody was near to hear it.  The other Avengers were somewhere else doing their daily routines.  Janet and Dr. Pym would be in New Jersey.  Dr. Strange in Manhattan, Scott in Long Island.  Everyone had somewhere else to be, except for her.  

A large bird came to rest on the poolside deck.  It watched Wanda for a moment before bursting into flame.  This was usual.  Her energy would always consume itself before too long.  By morning, the only thing left would be ash to be blown away or melted under rain.  

“Wanda, are you alright?”  

Wanda realized Vision must have heard the thunderclap of magic transfiguration.  “Yes,” she replied, then stopped when she heard a soft cry.  There was ash, but the was wasn’t her own.  It hadn’t come from the magic she had extinguished, but glowed red, still part of a magical image.  A tiny red head came out of the shimmering coals, though it wasn’t hot to Wanda’s touch.  She picked up the little baby bird.  

“A phoenix.”  

“Vision, I can’t do this alone.”  She stroked the baby bird’s feathers.   “I need to go to visit someone who can help people like me.”  The bird flapped its wings and tried to fly, unable to lift its body with such little force. 

“You will see Charles Xavier?  I think this is a very good first step.”  

Wanda paused, knowing Vision wouldn’t like where she was going.  “Yes.  And an old friend of his.” 

--

Wanda hadn’t even waited out the day before finding the address and making the arrangements to leave the Avengers Facility.  Many had been firm with her, but none had said she absolutely could not leave.  Just to be sure, Wanda left both her Avengrs card and her mobile phone and packed for a week.  She doubted she would be gone longer than that before reaching her final destination.  

“I’ll call.  I promise I’ll call.”  But Wanda wouldn’t promise more than that.  She would neither promise to tell him what she was doing or whom she was seeing.  Nor would she go into details about who Professor Xavier’s friend had been.  It wasn’t a lie.  Not outright, at least.  There had been years when he had been close with Wanda’s father.  But those years had passed.  

Wanda had never before been to the X Men’s school.  It was surprisingly close to the Avengers’ Facility.  She had assumed it would be farther.  But when she arrived by cab, the grounds were sprawling, and though they were better kept and the house had more character, it wasn’t too different from her own base of operations.  

Even before Wanda reached the front door, there were signs of mutant life all around the premise.  Children ran and tumbled and augmented and melted and transformed around her as they played between lessons.  A place like this would have been nice growing up.  Wanda knew it had been around when she was a child, but there was nothing like it in Sokovia.  

She rang the doorbell.  A young man covered in glass barreled through the door, fell down the steps, and shattered on the foyer.  Wanda gasped and wondered who to tell that a young glass man had just killed himself.  Wanda clutched her bag tighter, afraid of the moment someone would answer the door, until she heard laughter.  The young man had brought himself back together again.  “I fooled you, didn’t I?”