#redwtch

Thanos was dead, those that had been lost in the calamity had been brought back and the universe was once more whole, albeit shaken.  There was still much to be seen to, repairs to be made and still those to mourn.  The people that didn’t perish though the power of the stones, those that had been murdered or taken through the disasters that followed, they couldn’t be so easily brought back.  They were well and truly gone.

For those that were lost, Tony Stark had insisted upon plans for a world-wide period of respect and commemoration.  Despite the way that Loki came off to most people, even he had expressed his interest in the idea.  He and Thor as a result had attended a large meeting at the Avenger’s Compound where many were shocked into silence when Loki requested that the Asgardians that had been murdered by Thanos be included.  Thor hadn’t even gotten the chance to request it.

Once all was decided for the day at least, the Avengers (and Loki) were free to leave, or to stay, either way Tony had immediately gone into his lab.  Thor was speaking with Steve and Loki was less than willing to simply wait around, so he continued to walk, exploring the vastness of the compound.  He could feel an almost vibration, a distinct aura of magic that he knew didn’t belong to anyone that he had met...but it felt strangely familiar.

&& * WANDA * &&

HE HADN’T KNOWN WHAT HE WAS DOING UNTIL THE MOMENT SOMEONE ELSE ASKED WHERE WANDA WAS WHEN SHE DIDN’T COME TO DINNER. The fact that it wasn’t initially him who had noticed left a sickly feeling in his stomach that he could only identify as a loss of self. In the past few months, he had grown much closer with his boyfriend(s) in a way that he hadn’t considered to be possible in all his life. He had been asked to move in to some extent, to spend time with them in their secret hideaway & he would readily admit that he had become quite obsessed with sharing the space with the other. They had confessed their love, & as mushy as it was, he had become incredibly invested in having a potential future to share with someone.  From the time she was born ( 12 whole minutes after him ), Pietro had been ready to give his everything to his sister. He structured his life around keeping her safe and keeping her happy. For a long while that meant that it was just the two of them against the world - but as they blossomed into adulthood and late night talks of far off ambitions came to light, he realized how desperately important it was for her to have a true family. She wanted to marry, she wanted to raise children in a safe home & live a very conventional life. It broke his heart that he would not be her only future, but he was ready to make sure that he set her up nice and happy - whatever he could do to bring her the happy ending she so deserved. On his quest for Wanda’s happiness, he had neglected to realize just how unhappy he was becoming. He never allowed himself to get close to anyone or really explore his own consciousness or passions because it was so much easier to just push through. That’s all they had ever done - survive, why would that change now ??  When Bruce & Hulk stepped in, his whole world shifted. He thought it was for the better, that maybe he would do something constructive for himself for a change rather than running away from potential futures - maybe it was a risk of having his heart broken, but he had always rushed into things before, why should this be any different ?? However, he had become so consumed with his own desires and sudden undeniable happiness, that he didn’t realize he was pulling away from his soulmate, that he was spending less time with his Wanda.  Immediately, he excused himself from the table and without thinking, flashed in a blue blur into his sister’s room in the Avenger’s facility.

“ Wanda ?? “

_________________________________

How could a man live 27 years and not get past the pain he had felt on the first day of it all happening. It being... the day his parents died. In a car accident. Or, how he much later figured, in a vicious attack. Murder. Literally any other possible cause of death would have hurt much less than that.

He had locked himself into his basement, fiddling with stuff but getting nowhere. Eventually he ended up on the sofa that stood there in the corner, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly there was movement at the glass door to his workshop - he had to sit up to see her. “Jarvis?”, he murmured, “What the hell is she doing here?”

“I can tell your mental health is in a rather bad place, sir. I let her in, thought you could use some company.” - “Really? Great.” He was torn between letting her in and just ignoring her... but somehow he picked himself up and moved to the door, in clothes he only wore around home and barefooted. He typed the code into the locking system next to the door and it slid open. He leaned against the doorframe, his body language telling her ‘there is no way I’m gonna let you in here’.

      “You are jealous.” It’s amusing, really, even if a bit unwarranted and annoying. Stealing two girls a dress wasn’t a crime (well, the theft of it was, but gifting two women something pretty wasn’t). He had gone to get medicine, clothes (warm ones, for the winter), but he couldn’t leave without something fun. Paris was thriving, and they were suffering in Sokovia. The people of his country deserved better, and he would do what he could to help them. And sometimes a smile is more helpful than one thinks. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

There was an apologetic cant to his words, voice soft and tired features watching her carefully. Vision didn’t really need sleep, that much was true. But he had a tendency to at least take some time to lay down and “rest”, if only to give off the illusion that he was no different from anyone else. 

He had been pacing in one of the main areas in the facility. A little bit conflicted with himself. Perhaps not realizing if he’d been making noise that was noticeable. 

         JAMES BARNES HAS BEEN UNRESPONSIVE FOR SIXTY - EIGHT HOURS AND COUNTING...

     HE IS A CONTAINED EXPLOSION,  trapped  inside  this  CAGE  designed  by  the  wakandan  princess  herself.  both  barnes  &&  the  soldier  know  this  room  well.  to  one,  it  represents  safety,  SECURITY  ;;  to  the  other,  it  is  little  more  than  a  CAGE,  meant  to  SUBDUE  and  dissuade  unruly  behavior.  no  different  from  the  stasis  pods  his  old  handlers  used  to  store  him  in  when  he  became  UNSTABLE.  they  run  their  tests  here,  in  this  place.  like  a  scab,  they  pick  and  pick  at  his  mind  and  while  barnes  feels  a  strange  sense  of  COMFORT  knowing  he  cannot  hurt  anyone  while  locked  inside  this  containment  cell,  it  is  still  the  place  where  he  is  made  and  UNMADE.  this  is  still  a  place  where  his  greatest,  deepest  and  darkest  NIGHTMARES  become  reality  ;;  a  cavernous  PIT  where  he  falls  apart  into  a  thousand  pieces,  carefully  pieced  back  together  -  only  to  shatter  again  and  again  and  again  and  again...   

     HE HATES IT HERE.  regardless  of  its  advantages,  he  does  hate  this  place,  in  the  same  way  he  loathes  stasis.  it  works,  he  cannot  deny  that.  it  keeps  the  people  around  him  -  the  people  standing  within  the  BLAST  ZONE  -  safe,  but  god  does  he  hate  this  place.  his  aversion  though  is  nothing  compared  to  the  soldier’s  RAGE.  he  is  awoken,  always  -  with  a  purpose,  with  the  supplication  of  ORDERS,  with  a   mission  to  complete  -  and  yet,  all  these  people  ever  give  him  is  SILENCE.  normally,  time  is  enough  to  quell  the  soldier’s  irritable  TEMPER,  his  attention  span  and  interest  fleeting.  without  orders,  he  stagnates  rather  quickly  -  typically  giving  barnes  enough  of  a  give  to  slide  back  &&  resume  control  -  but  whatever  they  tried  this  time  around  had  TRIGGERED  not  only  barnes,  but  the  soldier  as  well.  it  has  been  almost  three  days  without  any  trace  of  james  barnes,  the  longest  interruption  to  date  -  and  the  soldier  does  not  appear  willing  to  comply.  instead,  he  is  showing  signs  of  ERRATIC,  wild  behavior,  restless  &&  violent,  throwing  himself  against  the  walls,  looking  for  weak  points  in  a  desperate  attempt  at  ESCAPE.  steve  rogers  had  finally  been  contacted,  but  there  was  only  so  much  the  captain  could  do  so  far  away.  he  was  on - route,  but  still  at  least  two  days  out,  and  his  friend’s  conditioning  was  plummeting,  the  mental  anguish  starting  to  clearly  show.       

     they  do  not  clear  it  first  with  the  captain.  buck  doubts  steve  would  ever  willingly  risk  her  life,  even  if  it  meant  saving  his  best  friend’s  SANITY,  but  they  come  to  her  anyway,  asking  for  help.  you  could  calm  his  mind,  yes?  you  could  find  him?  words  have  not  been  able  to  reach  him.  isolation,  time,  solitude,  sleep  and  calorie  deprivation  has  not  helped.  all  physical  attempts  to  SUBDUE  him  have  all  ended  in  failure.  they  need  to  get  inside  his  head,  find  the  HEMORRHAGING  memory  that  ripped  him  open  and  patch  it  up,  before  his  mind  bleeds  to  death.  they  need  her  ;;  HE  needs  her. 

“Oh, it’s you.” Adrian looked down very suddenly, as if he were a timid animal frightened to step out of place lest it be struck. “I’m sorry, I thought you were... Nevermind.” he dare not give another name. “What can I do for you?” he asked, prepared to switch to her native language out of respect.