#devs600celebration

You tried to hide it and treat them equally, but at times you found it rather difficult. Sometimes you wished to run up to Loki to give him a hug, whilst you fist bumped Thor, but you knew if you differentiated them, your secret would be at risk. So, you pushed your emotions aside and used a logical part of your mind to make decisions that would ensure the safety of your secret.

Though you carefully planned out how to go about your feelings, others had different ideas. Loki always voiced how he just wanted to be an equal to Thor, someone who had just as much opportunity, someone who received as much love and care, someone who was no different, but when it came to you, he wanted to be above his brother, he wanted to be first and more important to you. He wasn't happy with your carefully concocted plan to be stuck on the same level as his brother, especially because he didn't feel he was.

Loki was growing tired of being a shadow of his brother once again. He wanted you to look at him differently, to treat him as though he was more important to you. He had to admit he was jealous and though the word itself made him enraged, he tried to conceal it. He envied the relationship you had with Thor. Even though you thought you were careful and treated them equally, Loki's genius mind was clouded by his emotions, his jealousy.

Thor and Loki's relationship had been a rollercoaster, but finally they were at peace with each other and even Odin was proud of his younger adopted son. Everything seemed finally calm between the brothers, but it didn't matter how proud his brother made him and how supportive he had been towards Thor, Loki found himself taken over by an envious storm once again.

He leaned against the door frame of your room in the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, his arms folded in front of his chest, his body language screaming indifference. He acted as though he couldn't care about the loud laughter that left your lips, the small crinkles appearing beside your eyes or the way you threw your head back as another fit of laughter erupted from your lungs. Loki tried to pretend that it didn't affect him, that his heart didn't ache from the sight of another man making you laugh wholeheartedly as he watched from the side-line. But deep down he was burning in jealousy, eating him up from the inside. He knew he should have been happy for you as a friend and he tried, many times before, but he couldn't control the little demons that discouraged him from ever expressing his feelings to you. He believed, if it came to making a decision between him and his brother, the mighty Thor, the God of Thunder, you would choose his brother without a hint of doubt. The feeling of not being equal, only a second to Thor once again messed with his head and as he stood in the doorway, watching you laughing at something his brother told you, he made a decision he felt was long awaited.

"Why do you keep standing there? Come here," you smiled softly as you patted the golden couch beside you, offering him a place to sit. But instead of taking up on your offer, he just shook his head with a solemn expression. "Is everything okay?" You asked, slightly worried about the look on his face. Instead of a reply, he just nodded. With a heavily beating heart, you stood up from the sofa and walked up to him, placing a hand on his face, gently caressing his cheek with the tip of your thumb. "You look troubled. Is there a way I could help ease your worries?" You asked, eyes filled with hope to help the man you loved so dearly.

Loki wanted to lean into your palm, enjoying your soft touch against his skin, the connection making him feel as though your mere presence radiated safety, a feeling he only felt with you. But he had to remind himself of his plan. He grabbed your wrist and with a harsh movement pushed your hand away from him. His actions surprised you, making you slightly jump at the unexpected reaction. The coldness in his eyes was unfamiliar, your concern for him greatly growing. "I don't need your help," he replied firmly, a chill running through your spine at the emotionless tone. Even when you did something silly, he was always there to reassure you that it was all going to work out, because whatever you wanted, you were capable of achieving. He was always there to encourage you and offer you his endless support. He was the one who always kept you in one piece, even when you were going through hardships. But as he stood in front of you with his gaze empty, his jaw tightened, his tone cold and emotionless, something felt off and you weren't about to let it go.

"You are acting strange, Loki," you spoke with a deep frown across your brows, your eyes studying his face, trying to understand what could have gone through his mind.

He raised a questioning brow as he tilted his head. "No, I'm not. Perhaps you just don't know me well enough," he shrugged nonchalantly, his whole demeanour making you feel as though there was an invisible wall between the two of you.

"That's ridiculous. I know you, Loki. We have been friends for long enough," you scoffed at the absurdity of his words.

"You are no friend to me," he spat the words filled with hatred. A silent gasp left your lungs, his words painfully piercing through your chest, as though a dagger stabbed you in your heart. Feeling your chest tighten, your air cut off for a mere moment, you stumbled back in your place, your knees weakening as your brain processed his words. Loki didn't mean what he said, the words he spoke weren't the ones he meant to say, but they escaped involuntary and regardless of how painful it felt, he couldn't take them back.

"Loki!" Thor raised his voice warningly at his brother, but both you and Loki ignored him.

"What are you talking about? I don't understand you," you grabbed his arm desperately, but he just shook it off. He could see the pain in your eyes, the tears threatening to escape. His only wish was to wrap his arms around you and apologise repeatedly, to tell you that he didn't mean a word he said, but he couldn't do that. His pride stood in the way, the thought of being a second again enraged him.

"Wasn't I clear enough. Must I explain everything in detail?" He spat in anger. He didn't want to hurt you, but before he could have even thought of the words he wanted to say, they escaped him without a warning.

"But Loki, what have I done?" Your voice was tiny as though it wasn't even your voice. It was weak and desperate, somewhat needy. None of what Loki said made sense and the cold look in his eyes, the firm stance he took up on, it wasn't the Loki you knew.

"Nothing," he replied with a straight face. "You are simply no use to me anymore," he spoke, his words even surprising him. He didn't mean to make you feel as though you were a toy, he grew tired of. He realised it was time for him to not say another word. He knew what he had done, he knew you hated him and that it was too late for him to take it back. Opening your mouth, you were ready to strike back, but no sound left your vocal cords. You stood in front of him as if you were a fish out of water, suffocating. Tears fell down your cheeks, streaming down heavily as the words finally reached you. You were of no use to him anymore.

The sight of your tears, the devastation he saw in your eyes made Loki internally scream. It reminded him of the last words he spoke to his mother, breaking the heart of the person he loved more than anyone else. And now as he stood in front of you, intentionally hurting you, he just wanted to travel back in time and take it all back. The look on your face terrified him, the thought of causing you pain made his heart churn in agony. He couldn't bear to watch your heart shatter right in front of his eyes, all because he was a coward.

But you weren't a fool, you knew something was wrong. The unshed tears you desperately tried to keep from escaping blurred your vision as you stood in front of him unsteadily, wiping away the remaining evidence of your silent cries. Grabbing his arm once again, this time you didn't let him shake you off and you purposely changed your whole demeanour. You knew him, you knew who he really was, and you decided you weren't about to give up on him.

Your strong hold around him surprised Loki, he didn't expect you to cling to him after he treated you so disrespectfully. Once again, he tried to shake your hand off, but you didn't give in. There was a raging fire of determination in your eyes that Loki couldn't place and certainly couldn't understand. You caught his facade crumble for a mere moment only, wavering under your stubbornness, but it was enough for you to know there was something behind his nasty behaviour. "You can't fool me, you dumb man. It doesn't matter how hard you try," you hissed in anger as his cold exterior once again trembled at the sight of your firm stance against his ruthlessness, but he quickly rearranged himself as though he realised his slip-up.

He roughly removed his arm from your hold, your gaze capturing his stunned look once again, long enough for him to know you weren't hurt anymore, you were mad. Your eyes held anger as you looked up at the man and you didn't plan on hiding it. Loki knew he had gone too far and seeing your heart broken and enraged wasn't his plan. He just wanted to distance himself, never to feel like a second behind his brother, but he had gone too far. Before he could have made another foolish decision, he turned around with his jaw tightly shut, his fingers curving into a fist as he left you without a reply.

"Loki!" Thor shouted after his brother, but he didn't turn back. "I will talk to him," Thor shot up from the sofa and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly with a pained smile across his face.

"He is too stubborn to listen. There is something else behind his behaviour," you replied through gritted teeth, wanting nothing but to punch his younger brother.

"Then I shall bring him back so you can talk to him," he offered, earning a nod from you as he hurried after his brother, his heavy steps still audible from a distance.

You couldn't understand what had gotten into Loki, you couldn't pinpoint where this absurd behaviour and disrespectful manner came from, but the way he talked to you, the coldness in his eyes were ones you have never seen from him before. At least not towards you. His distanced behaviour lit a raging fire within you, wanting to confront the mischievous god, giving him a piece of your mind. He hurt you, it was terrifying to hear those words leave his lips, but the anger you felt towards him overpowered the initial aching in your heart, the heavy weight sitting on your chest.

Loki rushed through the corridors of the Royal Palace in haste, not being able to look at you any longer. He didn't mean for things to happen the way they did, he didn't mean to hurt you. When he realised what he had done, the only thing he could do was run. He knew he was a coward, but the pained look on your face terrified him and as soon as he realised you weren't having any of his foolish play, it scared him. His whole plan was reckless and stupid, he knew, but he couldn't find it in him to walk back to you and apologise. Loki thought if he was to go back, he would have to watch you growing closer to his brother and he couldn't bear the thought of you and Thor together.

So, he fled Asgard.

It's been a week since Loki disappeared and you couldn't handle not knowing where he was, what he has been doing, why he acted the way he did. You thought after all this time your anger would subside, but it weighed on you heavily just like on the day Loki decided to hurt you. A part of you was enraged, wanting nothing but return the pain you felt, however another part of you was worried about him, concerned for his safety. Walking up and down nervously in your room didn't help your case. Thor's letter about finding his brother awoke hope in you, but not the kind where you wanted to jump in his arms anymore. The kind that gave you the opportunity to tell him what a coward he was for running away.

A guard knocked on your door, pulling you out of your thoughts. He didn't need to speak, you knew Loki and Thor were back. You gave clear instructions to the guards to inform you upon their arrival. In haste, you headed to the entrance that led you to the Rainbow bridge, a storm of thoughts swirling around in your mind, scenarios upon scenarios playing every possibility of your reunion.

As you stepped outside the arch of the entrance, you caught sight of the brothers. Thor pushed on Loki's back as though he was a prisoner. He even wore a pair of handcuffs to stop him from trying anything. Frowning at the sight, you tilted your head innocently, Thor's actions seeming a bit much for your liking. You wanted Loki back, but if he didn't come on his own, did it really make a difference? You knew he would only listen to you because he had no other options.

Whilst Thor's extreme measures slightly bothered you, the anger that you have been harbouring screamed louder in your mind than to care about how he returned Loki. Whether with or without Loki's consent, you were to lash out on him, because he deserved it after the way he treated you.

"Well, well, well, look who found his way home," you arched a brow, but he didn't look at you. His gaze was fixed on the ground, not daring to meet your eyes. "Uncuff him, please" you instructed Thor, who did as he was told, knowing he had no place to join your disagreement. He helped as much as he could, he brought his brother back, but whatever was going on between you and Loki was none of his business, so after a reassuring nod, he left you.

Loki massaged his wrist where the handcuff cut into his flesh, but still didn't dare to lift his gaze. Everything seemed more interesting to him, but you. It angered you even more, but instead of losing control, you tightened your jaw and squeezed your lips shut. You patiently waited, though you didn't know for what. An apology maybe, an explanation, even an annoyed groan, but Loki was silent. Silence wasn't his strength, the man loved to talk, and this side was certainly new to you. For a mere second it occurred to you that he might have changed, and you just misinterpreted him the last time you met. But those thoughts quickly disappeared as you remembered his facade fall for a second, seeing him vulnerable even if for a mere moment.

"So, is this how it's going to be?" You asked with a straight face, hoping to earn a reply, some words maybe or even a sound. But Loki kept his lips sealed. "Look at me!" You raised your voice, but he didn't lift his gaze, he avoided meeting your eyes at all costs. There was a certain hopelessness you felt, a part of you burning in anger to know more, to have some sort of an explanation, but he didn't give in. "Talk to me!" You shouted at the man, but he just tightened his jaw and kept quiet.

Loki wanted to talk, he wanted to apologise, he wanted to look into your eyes and see what he had done to you. But he didn't have the courage to see the damage he had made. He was afraid of what he would see, the raging hatred in your eyes, the pity for the pathetic person he was, the anger his cowardness lit within you. It was all his fault, and he knew he had no right to speak, not even to apologise. His words would mean nothing to you, he let himself treat you so rudely after all.

"Talk to me! Open your mouth! You could never shut up, why are you starting now?" You asked, enraged at the silence. Walking up to him, you started hitting his chest, each blow harder than the previous one, but Loki just took it diligently. "Why are you doing this?" You shouted as you pushed on him, desperately trying to get him to say something, the silence driving you mad. Loki though he didn't have the right to stop you, each blow you struck at his chest was well deserved. He would have taken even harder punishments, he deserved it after all, but if that was what made you feel better, he would let you keep hitting him.

Your next blow halted in mid-air, tears collecting in your eyes, ready to escape. "Do you really hate me that much?" Your voice barely a whisper, a weak voice you have never heard from yourself. Loki's eyes found yours for the first time, swallowing visibly at the words you used. The thought of him ever hating you felt impossible for him and as he watched your desperate gaze, he knew he needed to say something.

"I could never," he replied finally, earning a shaky sigh from you.

"Then why are you doing this?" You asked, hoping that the barrier he so carefully pulled up between you would finally crumble. But no other words left his lips. He was silent once again. He didn't know what to say to you, he couldn't possibly be honest. He knew you would look at him as though he was a pathetic man and he never wanted to see you look down on him. He was better off being hated by you than to ever feel like you pitied him. He knew he deserved it, what he had done was unforgivable in his eyes, though he couldn't get himself to tell you that. "Speak!" You shouted once again; your desperate tone shook him out of his thoughts. He locked his eyes with yours, searching for more than rage, but you were harbouring so many emotions, he couldn't possibly read you.

You had no idea what was going through his mind, the only thing you could see in his eyes was a mess. Swirling emotions and thoughts, you could barely read the man. You needed answers, but as you looked into his eyes, you couldn't possibly find them. You needed words, confessions, explanations, apologies, it didn't matter, but the only way you could understand him was spoken words and he denied them from you. His silence made your head spin, feeling hopeless in your situation. Once again you hit him on the chest as though that was the only reason, he replied to you.

"You big, old, man-child, open your mouth and speak!" You shouted at him, striking another fist full of blow against his chest. "Say something!" You screamed, filled with rage. "After all you've said, you had the audacity to run away, flee from all the problems you have caused. How could you do that? Do you realise how worried I was? Not knowing where you went, what you were up to, if you were even in one piece," you cried. You thought he didn't care, but you had to say it, you had to let it all out. "Your words hurt me and I'm so mad at you, I want to hurt you as much as you hurt me, but I was still worried. I'm as much of a fool as you are," you breathed in a calmer manner. Loki's eyes grew in astonishment. He expected your anger, lashing out on him, but he never expected you to worry about him, to show such affection. Not after all he has done to you, not after he has broken your heart.

"I'm sorry," he breathed weakly against his better judgment. The desperate need in your eyes, the anger building up, the tears collecting, he knew he needed to say it. He didn't want to be a coward anymore and as hard as it was to accept it, he couldn't care less if he was only a second to his brother. If he could only remain beside you as a mere friend, he was to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness. "I'm so sorry," he repeated himself. Your eyes grew wide at the apology, if anything those were the last words you expected to hear from him. His head fell forward, his gaze fixed on the ground. Loki was never one to apologise, let alone seem so guilty. You felt as though you had entered a completely new territory. But it didn't make you feel less hurt or upset.

"Do you think an apology can erase it all? Do you really think a simple sorry is enough?" You asked with a straight face, arms folded in front of your chest. Of course, Loki knew it wasn't enough, but it was a start, however minor it seemed to be.

"No, it's not. I know I've gone too far," he spoke as he lifted his head, searching for your eyes. His voice was heavy with emotions, his cold demeanour falling into pieces. "I didn't mean anything I said to you, I didn't mean to hurt you. It was not my intention," he took a deep breath as though he needed time to carefully plan his words. "I'm a fool and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I am sincerely sorry for what I have done," he breathed, his shoulders falling forward, his usually self-confident appearance now seemed weak and vulnerable. You had to stop the urge that wanted you to wrap your arms around his frame and tell him that it was alright, because whilst you felt bad for him, it was all his fault. He hurt you, he spoke those words that felt like daggers twisting your heart.

"Why, Loki? Why did you talk to me like that?" You asked, needing an explanation. The Loki you saw that day was indeed different from the person you knew, but the reasons behind his behaviour were beyond you.

"Because I thought it would be better," Loki debated to be honest with you, but as he looked into your eyes, your gaze desperate for the truth, he couldn't deny it from you. He knew you would look at him differently, he knew you would be even more enraged, but you deserved the truth. "I didn't want to be a second again. Finally, everything fell into place with my father and Thor. I felt equal, which I wanted to be for so long. But once again I found myself in my brother's shadow and I couldn't handle it. I was a fool and I thought if I pushed you away, I wouldn't have to repeat the same mistakes again, but I did," a heavy sigh left his lungs as he searched for the right words. "I never meant to hurt you, but I couldn't bear to be stuck in my brother's shadow again," you furrowed at the man, his words making no sense to you.

"I always treated you the same. Why would you think you were in his shadow? I love you equally," you attempted to convince him, but he just shook his head.

"Maybe you think you did, but I was envious of your relationship with him. I know, I'm the worst, but I couldn't control it," he scoffed at his own words. "I didn't want to be a close second, I didn't want to be an equal. I wanted to be more important to you, but I knew it would be impossible," your eyes widened as the words left his lips, a silent gasp escaping your lungs.

"More important?" You asked with a stunned expression. "Why?"

"Because my feelings for you aren't platonic," he confessed, his chest feeling lighter as the words finally left his mouth. He wished to say it for so long, regardless of how terrifying it seemed. Whether you felt the same or not, he felt as though the heavy weight previously seated across his chest was now finally gone.

You stood in front of him in utter shock. You longed to hear those words since the very first time you realised your own feelings, but you could never imagine hearing them. It felt like you were in a dream, a blissful moment. As the puzzles finally started to make sense, you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You are a fool," you breathed against the skin of his neck. Your sudden affection surprised Loki, but his arms involuntarily wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. "Did you really push me away for this? Couldn't you just say something?" You asked as you tightened your arms around him.

"I was afraid," he confessed, his words weak as though he found them hard to declare.

"If you were just honest, this whole situation could have been easily avoided," you replied as you pulled back to be able to look at him. You placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it gently. "If you asked me, if you had spoken to me, I would have told you the truth. I haven't seen you as a friend for years. My feelings for you grew a long time ago," you confessed as Loki's eyes grew wider. "You were never a second or an equal to Thor in my eyes. You were always more important," you spoke as you brushed his hair behind his ear.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed as he finally found his voice and pulled you closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying your embrace around him. "Thank you," he murmured against your skin.

"What for?" You asked with a deep frown.

"For your existence," he replied, earning a loud chuckle from you.

"You're welcome," you snickered playfully. "Though I'm still mad at you," you warned him as you pulled back to establish eye contact. "You will have to make up for all the mess you have created," you spoke with a straight face, your words strict, but holding no anger.

"I will do anything in my power to earn your forgiveness. Anything!" He declared. He knew he was a fool, but he wasn't stupid enough to hurt you ever again. He needed you to forgive him, because he knew he couldn't forgive himself until you had done so.

"You could start by declaring your undying love for me," you giggled with a mischievous smile across your face.

"Excuse me?" He asked, eyes wide in surprise.

"You could start asking for my forgiveness by kissing me," your voice was less confident than the first time, fearing you have been too bold. But as soon as Loki processed your words, a heartfelt laughter escaped his lungs.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied as his laughter died down and placed a hand behind your neck, meeting your lips halfway, kissing you in haste, wanting to pour all his feelings in that kiss. He needed you to understand all those feelings he has been harbouring silently and he was ready to give you anything you ever wished, even after he has finally earned your forgiveness.

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His hand is laying on the table, expecting to meet hers halfway, and she looks at it through her periphery. Internally, she battles herself, battles the part of her that laughs at his jokes and wants to hold his hand. She lays her hand gently on top of his, layering his with hers like a blanket that hasn't been used in years. The feeling of her skin on his is alien and her subconscious yells that it's not right, none of this is right, none-

"Wanna get out of here?" The man across from her asks, his eyes gentle and kind, and she knows he means well. Her thoughts aside, this date has been going rather well and if it weren't for her, maybe they could really be something, but this man is not who she wants nor who her heart needs. This man doesn't know the intricacies of Wanda, her heart, her magic. She smiles politely and nods, letting him stand and lead her out of the crowded restaurant. The night is warm and loud, the streets of New York City buzz with chatter and the smell of exhaust.

Still hand in hand, the conversation between them doesn't cease or even pause. Wanda will give credit where credit is due, this man is easy to be with. His voice is American, no accent to be found. No prose while speaking, no poetic bliss. She finds his voice to be velvety and smooth to the ears, but sandpaper to the heart. She realizes he doesn't know where he is going as he walks with her back to her apartment, he's shy enough to not admit that he knows exactly who she is, that she can defend herself perfectly well, but he's chivalrous, he’s down to earth, he’s not blowing his shot.

She smiles as he talks about his family, his sister and her children who are his favourite little kids in the world and how being an uncle is amazing and how someday I'd really like to have a family of my own, y'know? He doesn't know it but he strikes just about every nerve possible in those few sentences and her chest tightens. Pietro, mom, dad, Vis- all in one horrible fell swoop. She takes a deep breath, her smile unbreaking. Chatter continues, mostly one-sided as Wanda pretends to listen to his voice. She isn’t focused on the words he’s saying, just the burning feel of his hand in hers and how wrong it is.

Wanda assumes he’s stalling as they get closer to her building, her dingy one-bedroom apartment is waiting for her, and she can feel the sanctuary she has found there. They approach the building, and he pauses, he’s finally stopped talking and is deliberating on what to say next. Before he had a chance to say anything, Wanda speaks up.

“I had a really nice time tonight, thank you.” She smiles again, it’s small and kind, and she’s anxious to get inside.

“I did, too. Thank you for coming,” he’s beaming now, like he can see their second and third and last date together. He steels himself and pulls her close by her hand, his other cupping her waist. She’s surprised when his lips meet hers, but she lets her eyes close and her other hand rest on his shoulder. He pulls away and smiles at her. “I hope we can do this again, soon. Goodnight, Wanda.” He gives a small wave and begins to walk in the direction he came.

Wanda releases a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, the ache in her chest lessening as she watches the man walk away. She curses herself for not remembering his name, it’s the least she could have done.

It’s a fitful night’s sleep. Not that she ever rests anymore. Her waking moments are consumed with thoughts of Vision and his dull red and grey and lifeless form. How it was her who did it - who killed him- the first time and how he had to suffer a second time. How he wasn’t coming back. Her dreams weren’t any better.

She’s back in the S.W.O.R.D headquarters, staring at Vision’s body and her words come back to her, “I can’t feel you.” Here, those words ring true over and over again echoing through her ears. It is when Vision’s mouth opens in a gasp, and she still doesn’t feel him. Instead, she feels a horrible dread because she’s had this dream, over and over again, and she knows what happens next. Vision’s body is no longer dissected and on different tables, he is put back together in a tangled jumble of wires and sparks, and he’s still dead. His eyes are still blank, he is swaying in front of her in this new black space - what happened to the surrounding lab? - His arms reach for her, and she feels her legs carry her toward him. She still feels the love for him, the pain for him, but she still does not feel him. She wraps her arms around him, around the stitches and the incorrect parts.

Something is different, in this dream. Vision looks down at her with his horrifying eyes, and he examines her, that much she can feel.

“Wanda, darling,” His voice is monotonous and fading, like his program is trying to restart. “Someone else has kissed you.” He observes.

“It was a mistake, Vis, I-,” Wanda begins to speak but Vision’s color begins to flood through him, vibrant red and silver. Her breath escapes her lungs - how could she forget how beautiful he is? He is repaired, whole, made anew and he is holding her in his strong arms, just as he used to.

His eyes are alive now, and they’re analyzing her. They bore into hers and she presses a hand against his cheek, a tear sliding down her own. “When you look into his eyes,” Vision begins to speak and Wanda’s memory of the man’s mocha eyes flash back into view, crinkling as he smiles at her from across their shared table . “Do you think of mine?” His lips graze hers gently, never actually planting. She can’t handle the idea of never kissing him again.

Wanda’s breath has left her lungs and she can’t breathe. She’s drowning, she’s sure she is.

“Vision, he is nothing to me.” She chokes and blinks, and Vision is back to his muddled red, dead eyes seeing her soul. He cocks his head and pushes her away from him, sending her stumbling backward. “Vis, please,” she cries now, a sob escaping her lips.

“This is all your fault, Wanda.” His voice is loud and electric, like he’s speaking through a megaphone at her. She crumples to her knees as he continues to stare her down, and she feels so small. She sobs and cries and can’t look at him any more, her arms wrapping around herself. She can’t make herself look up at him because she knows his eyes will break her. She can’t tell if he’s still there or now as she cries, because she still can’t feel him. Guilt and fear and panic rise up her throat like bile, tasting like blood.

She’s underneath abrasive sterile lights again as the scene changes once more, she’s back in the S.W.O.R.D lab and Vision is lying motionless on the table, pulled apart in chunks. She does not try to feel him again. She knows he will not be there. His words echo around her. “This is all your fault, Wanda.”

She wakes in a cold sweat, her tears streaming freely down her face. She is exhausted and frayed and left alone in the nearly empty apartment she has for herself. She sits up and pulls her knees to her chest, letting her cries come as they please.

She can’t feel him anymore, and it is all her fault.

—