143/When the World Ends...

When the World Ends...
Date of Scene:	26 February 2020
Location:	Wanda's Room
Synopsis:	When dinner is interupted by the destruction of Genosha, Clint helps Wanda keep her sanity while her world crumbles.
Cast of Characters:	Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

---

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda had sent Clint a text message with the ingredients to a recipe. A glazed beef dish that probably would sound appetizing to most. Also the message:

> I haven't made this before, but willing to give it a try. Dinner tonight, my room?

Wanda had the ingredients already, and began cooking in tie it would be about coming out of the oven by the time Clint would arrive. She also had put on a yellow sweater dress, and was doing her best to avoid getting anything on it.

"Alright, everything should be coming out soon," she says to herself. She's left the door ajar enough that someone passing by outside can see in rather than having to knock. Wanda goes over and picks out a bottle of wine from a few in a small rack. "This one good, JARVIS?" she asks, holding the bottle up towards one of his sensors. "Yes, a fine choice, Wanda," JARVIS confirms. "You may wish to turn the beef as well."

Wanda points with her finger. "That's why I love you." She goes over to the oven and does so.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint had been hard to find since the Loki news, but out of the blue the night before he'd sent a text that read simply:

Clint >> All's well.

Just in case Wanda had worried. So, when he got the message earlier about dinner, he'd smiled replying:

Clint >> Sounds good. I'll see you then.

Of course a million things had to happen at SHIELD, possible Strucker sighting in the far-east, Genosha going quiet, and an attempted hijacking in South America. Thankfully Clint didn't have to deploy to deal with any of them, but he was called in to consult on the hijacking and promised to ask Wanda if she'd heard anything from Genosha lately.

Then he rushed home through New York traffic, ran upstairs to change, paused to see the amount of stubble on his cheeks could almost be counted as a beard at this point but opted against shaving in favour of speed, yanking on one of his nice blue t-shirts and darker pair of jeans, he makes his way to Wanda's door knocking twice, "Hey, I finally made it."

He was only fifteen minutes late. A smile then, "Got lost on the way."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda doesn't even glance up from the kitchen island where she's moving some things into a bowl. "Lost? Right. You were in a dumpster again, weren't you?" she asks, glancing up at Clint finally and flashing him a soft smile.

Her eyes move from his face down to the shirt and jeans. "I like that color of blue. It suits you well, too," she tells him, gaze lingering just a moment before she turns back to the food. "Come in and have a seat. Just getting it out of the oven," she says. "There's wine on the table if you want to pour it."

She's put a tablecloth over the small table, and there's a candle burning on it as well, the places already set, just waiting for the food. The television is on to GBC, though the sound is muted. They are currently talking about the stock market.

Clint Barton has posed:
Walking through the door Clint makes a dramatic sniff of his pits, "Not recently," he grins of being in a dumpster. "That was like /one/ time."

He takes in the set up and his smile becomes a little bit brighter, "Wow, you really don't do half measures, do you?" he says before her compliment having him check out his shirt. "Oh this? Yeah, it's one of my 'good t-shirts'," he smirks at that thought. "But wow... that dress," he says with a look Wanda's way before giving his head a shake.

"Right, wine, JARVIS, what are we drinking tonight?" he asks as he goes about uncorcking the bottle, one eye on the news. "Hey hear anything from your dad or sister today?" he asks her. "We were having some comms issues out that way today."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's smile at the compliment to her dress is noticeable. "Thank you," she tells Clint, looking up to shine the warm expression over to him. She gets the main dish out of the oven, letting it rest a bit before slicing it and placing it on a platter.

JARVIS answers the query with, "This is a red wine from Texas actually. It received particularly high marks and pairs well with what the dish Wanda made. I hope you enjoy it, Clint." Wanda glances up at the room, as if somehow that is addressing JARVIS and gives a smile. She carries the final dish over, setting it down in the middle of the small, intimate table.

"I have not, no. Though I've been thinking about what we discussed that one day. I really need to make an effort to reach out to Lorna. It's morning there, maybe I'll give her a call before I turn in tonight," she tells Clint.

Clint Barton has posed:
Basking in the warmth of that smile Clint for a moment longer than he'd planned Clint pushes his hand through his hair and gets back to pouring. "They make wine in Texas?" he asks with a bit of a smile. Really they made it everywhere these days, but a casual wine drinker like Clint only really heard about the ones from Cali when it came to American wines.

Clint nods, having removed the cork and beginning to pour, "Yeah, you definitely don't want to wait on something like that, trust me," Clint says, before he sets down the bottle and then moves to offer Wanda one of the glasses. "Here ya go," he says before grabbing his own and sitting at the intimate little table suddenly feeling very aware of how close the were as they sat at it.

"So, what do we drink to?" he asks.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda takes the offered glass, smiling across the table to Clint. "I guess they do. I have only been there once or twice, but not to anywhere I knew of that grew grapes. It's a big place though, I hear," she comments. She pauses a moment in thought. "To finally getting to know those I should have before now?" she offers as a toast. If he likes it, she offers her glass to clink.

Wanda takes a sip of her wine before setting it down. "I hope I did alright with the food," she says, motioning for Clint to go ahead and serve himself first. She'll get a bowl that has a vegetable medley in it and spoon some onto her plate. "I'm glad you were free tonight. Our schedules are hard enough to work around, but yours with SHIELD is probably doubly so," she comments.

Wanda's back is to the television. The broadcast cuts to a view from an aerial vehicle of some sort, out over the ocean. The camera is filming something ahead, towering plumes of smoke going up into the air. The footer below it reads, "Live: Genosha"

Clint Barton has posed:
"Been through a couple of times down near the border, but I we weren't looking for wine back then," Clint says likely talking about him and his criminal mentor Trickshot. "Very big, but good country to drive through so it's not so bad." He considers the toast for no more than a second before he clinks glasses, "To getting to know each other," he says.

As he surveys the food deciding on what to grab first, he continues down that thread of conversatiion. "I know we've been doing a lot of that, just hope I'm not taking up too much of your time..." like /she/ didn't invite /you/ here dummy. "And hey, I'm sure it's great." He cuts into the roast because of course he goes right to the meat. The veggies can wait.

As he cuts his eyes go to the TV and his hands freeze, "Oh shit," he says seeing the smoke on the screen.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda replies, "I've always heard that border was a lot of trouble. Thankfully not of the Avenger variety much, at least as far as I've been involved with." She gets some of the beef after Clint has, the scent of ginger noticeable from it as she puts some on her plate.

Wanda lifts her green eyes to smile over to Clint. "I've enjoyed most every moment of it actually," she tells him. She gives him a bit of a suspicious, or troublemaker look as she adds with a finger waggle, "Except maybe a splash or two if I remember right."

As Clint reacts to the television, Wanda looks up, unsure what the comment is in response to. After a second or two she realizes he's looking past her and the auburn-haired woman turns a bit in her seat and then turns her head to check what he's seeing. "What-?" she says, voice cutting off as she spots the byline on the video.

Wanda rises slowly from her chair, her napkin falling off of her lap unnoticed. She takes a few steps nearer to the TV which hangs over the fireplace.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Yeah, definitely a lot of trouble, but also a lot of drug guys sitting on piles of money, which is what drew me and Buck down there," he says with a little shrug. "Glad it's not Avenger-level trouble down there though, that could lead to some awkward reuinions."

He breathes in the ginger, "God that smell's good," he says, with a look her way before he clams up behind a barely contained smirk. "I don't remember any splashing, sure you're thinking of me?"

All of that is washed away by the images on the screen, when Wanda gets to her feet, so does Clint his hand goes to his pocket and he pulls out his phone, pressing a contact and dialing.

"This Barton, TA-5-7-6-4, can I get a sit rep for Genosha..." he begins. "Right, got it, fine, I'll call back."

The phone is put away and Clint walks up to put a hand on Wanda's shoulder, "They're still figuring out what's going on but as soon as they know we'll know."

He squeezes her shoulder, "Your dad and sister are tough, they'll get out of whatever this okay."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's mouth falls open as the helicopter that is filming this gets nearer to the island. "That's Carrion Cove," she says of the wreckage. One can tell there was a city there, but it could no longer be called that. Just a field of debris and rubble, buildings completely smashed. The piles of rubbles burning in some cases, making it difficult to see details through the smoke.

Wanda's hands reach out to either side and the red aura that so often accompanies her magic starts to glow. But it sputters and sparks rather than coming as it normally does. She tries again, breathing hard, but she's so overcome with emotion it seems to be affecting her ability to concentrate.

"No.. no God no..." she says, shaking her head and tears welling out of her eyes as the helicopter begins to circle the island, moving further along the remains of Carrion Cove, the town's name now become all too appropriate.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Jesus..." Clint says when he sees the state of what was once the city of Carrion Cove...Now he understood why nobody at SHIELD had time for his questions. The world hadn't seen this sort of destruction for a long, long time.

His grip tightens on Wanda's shoulder, "Hey, I'm here, we'll get to the bottom of this and when we do, the team's going to live up to it's name, you can count on that."

It was a cold comfort he was sure but what do you say to someone who's homeland had just been levelled?

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda doesn't react to the touch or to what Clint says. Her eyes are just on the destruction of... is it her home? Perhaps not. But it's a place that the people think of her as royalty. And look to her for protection.

The helicopter is moving on around the coast now. The water has debris from ships, and there are bodies floating amidst the wreckage. Small villages along the coast were not spared the destruction.

"No," Wanda says again. This time the magic comes to her. It glows around her hands and then up her body. There's a swirl of red aura and her Scarlet Witch costume has replaced the sweater dress. And then the red light consumes her completely and then she's gone. Clint will recognize the sight of her teleporting, leaving him alone in the room.

Clint Barton has posed:
For Clint the situation had shrunken down to one thing, Wanda. That was his priority, the larger stuff could wait but he knew that wasn't the case for Wanda, this was her home. Her kingdom? He wasn't sure ont he last bit but when he sees the red begin to swirl around her he steps back like he's found he's rested his hand on a rapidly heating stove.

"Wanda, watch your ass," he tells her before she vanishes leaving Clint alone with the food and the wine.

"Shit," he breathes before he sinks into his chair and starts dialing his phone again, /someone/ at SHIELD had to know what was going on.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Time passes. Sometimes time passes quickly and we wish we could make it go slower, as those are usually good times. But sometimes time passes as it does here. Each minute seems to be drawn out and last an eternity.

Hours pass. The helicopter continues around the island. The capital is in as bad of shape. There's a giant, humongous Sentinel standing motionless in the middle of the destruction there. Later it will be called a 'wild sentinel', but for now, it's just that huge robot.

It's nearly two and a half hours later when red light swirls into a slim cylindrical shape in the room, and then disappears, leaving the Scarlet Witch behind. Her costume and body are stained with soot. Her hair hangs in a bedraggled mess. There's no sign of injuries, but she slumps as if she might collapse.

Clint Barton has posed:
Yeah, a watched kettle never boils, and Clint was watching two of them, the first being Wanda and the second being SHIELD getting him an update, there were times when he could have sworn his last call in was an hour ago, only to look at his phone and see only five minutes have passed.

In the end he got the update first from an angry Maria Hill who mostly wanted him to stop calling, the word was that NORAD had seen the attack but only once it begun and by the time any sort of response could be mobilized it was over. Magneto was missing as was Polaris and the death toll was catastrophic and likely caused by the giant sentinel seen on TV.

After he got the report time got even slower, Hill said they weren't calling in the Avengers and what would follow from SHIELD's end of things wouldn't need Clint and Nat's special set of skills, so all there was to wait and worry about Wanda. In the remaining portion of the 2 1/2 hours, the food is barely touched but a good deal of the wine is drunk.

So when Wanda appears, Clint is a little off his game, responding slowly, so she may be collapsing already when he catches her, pulling her close and whispering, "Hey, it's alright I got you, you're alright."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda might have been able to stay on her feet. Well, possibly. Though as she feels Clint's arms go about her and support her, she lets herself sag fully against him. Until the rugged man is the only thing keeping her on her feet.

"Too late," she says, voice hoarse and full of pain. "It's all... it's burning. And rubble. People buried. Pulled out. Sent to hospitals," she says, not quite managing full sentences.

"How could they?" she says, eyes red, having shed already all of the tears they are able, until no more come. Wanda buries her face against Clint's shoulder, hiding the world from her sight. Her hands move to him, shaking, seeking him out as she hugs herself to him with feeble remaining strength.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint takes Wanda's weight as though it were nothing, holding her steady and close.

His hold tightens as she speaks and lets him know first hand the horrors he had only seen on the screen or heard in the report he'd weedled out of Hill. "Shit, I'm sorry," Clint says not knowing what else to say. There's a part of him that wants to ask questions, get answers, where's Magneto, where's Polaris, those were the big questions whose answers would shape how the rest of this played out but he leaves off for now.

"I don't know," he answers. "But there's no way they get away with this. You've got my word on that Wanda," he says his hand resting on the back of his head holding her close to his shoulder. He just stands there for awhile while the TV he muted ages ago, continues to flash pictures of the tragedy.

After awhile Clint finally speaks, "You should lay down," he says. "Maybe get cleaned up?" he didn't know if she had the energy for the latter, but he wanted to put it on the table anyhow.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda doesn't try to move away. She seeks out the caring and support that Clint's embrace promises. She's been strong, for hours searching through smoke and debris. Digging out people fortunate enough to have been in deep basements. Teleporting away those able to get away and hide, though there were so few places to hide with the widespread devastation.

She closes her eyes and just lets Clint hold her for the longest time. Until finally his words spur her enough to open her eyes. She smells the smoke on herself and it makes her feel sick. "Can you help me in..." she says, motioning towards the bathroom.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint just holds her, letting deal with whatever she's seen while he takes care of the rest. When she asks about his help, there's no hesitation. "Yeah, I got you," he tells her. "Want me to carry you or just hold you up?" he asks her sounding equally willing to do either.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff slides her arm around Clint. "Just help support me a bit," she asks him softly, her voice hoarse from having breathed so much spoke, even though she'd used her magic to try to keep it back so she could see. It kept coming in anew.

Wanda is little unsteady, but not as much as when she first arrived. If Clint helps her, they make it into the bathroom. Wanda gets her hands on the sink to help support herself. "Give me a few minutes?" she asks softly, turning to focus her red-rimmed eyes on Clint fully for the first time since she returned. "If... would you mind... staying awhile, though?" she asks him quietly, her eyes falling away and looking over, seeing herself in the mirror.

Clint Barton has posed:
"You got it," Clint says to her hoarse request. Stopping on the way to snag her wine glass and hand it over, "Here drink this," he says, as he continues to help her to the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom and Wanda's steady Clint steps back, nodding when her red rimmed eyes are turned his way. "Take all the time you need, I'll be right outside," he promises. "Not going anywhere."

Then he leaves her to clean up, slipping out and letting the door click shut behind him.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda is in the bathroom for about twenty minutes. The shower runs, though it is brief. Finally the door opens and she comes out. She's put on a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt. The soot and smoke are gone, but her eyes are still red-rimmed, and she moves with a slow pace as she walks out on bare feet, turning the light out behind her.

Wanda takes in the view of the room. The food sitting mostly on the table. Her eyes eventually settle on Clint where they stay. She gives a little shake of her head. No words come when she tries to speak, but there is probably the sense of her wanting to say, she couldn't stop it.

Wanda clears her throat a little. "I don't think I could teleport anyone else safely. I... I didn't think I'd make it back, myself, honestly. The only reason I did it. So..." she trails off. So she wouldn't have to face it.

Clint Barton has posed:
During that twenty minutes Clint tries to tidy up as best he can, but by the time she emerges the food is still on the table, though he's working on some of the dinner dishes when she emerges, and the archer wipes his wet hands on his pants before moving to intercept Wanda.

He reads what she leaves unsaid and when he reaches her he takes her head in both hands and looks down into her eyes, "Hey don't do that to yourself, nobody saw this coming, nobody," he says firmly and with conviction. "So don't beat yourself up because you couldn't stop something everyone else couldn't stop either."

He takes a breath and lets go of her face, and one of his hands reaches for one of hers, "Those people you teleported out are going to get to have lives because of you, and I know you Wanda, if you could have done more you would have."

He takes that moment to hug her close without further words, just letting that tight embrace reiterate what he'd told her, this wasn't her fault and she'd done as much good as she could.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's eyes are drawn back to Clint as he takes her gently in his hands and makes her look up to him. The pain is writ in them clearly as he tells her words that Wanda needs to hear. She swallows, looking on the verge of more tears though she hasn't been able to cry for sometime.

The strong arms wrap around her and Wanda buries her face against Clint's chest, burrowing into his embrace. If someone has ever needed to be held right now, it's Wanda Maximoff. Her hands tremble as they move to Clint's shoulders, and then slide lower around his torso to hug herself back to him.

She doesn't pull away, only presses deeper. Wanting to hide from the world and seek out the caring that she feels coming from Clint. Like he's willing her the energy to keep going, filling the sense of void she has inside as she feels so drained. "PLease stay with me," she whispers to him, body trembling slightly as he holds her.

Clint Barton has posed:
After seeing the pain writ across Wanda's face Clint knew he wouldn't be leaving tonight so there's no hesitation when she asks him to stay: "Yeah," he says. "I'm with you." His arms squeeze a little tighter to couple the words with something tactile to get past the pain.

His chest rises and falls with a deep breathe as he holds her awhile longer after that, then quietly he asks, "Need to lie down? You don't have to stand on my account, you've got me all night, I'm good wherever you're good."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
There's a sense of her relaxing more as Clint says he won't be leaving her alone. She turns her head sideways, resting her cheek down against Clint's shoulder. "I should go back. But I know I can't make it," she whispers quietly. She doubts she could even draw enough magic to make a light at this point.

Wanda looks towards the bed. It's neatly made over on the one side of the room, with a nice view out the large windows. Her guitar is on the stand nearby to it, and some sheet music on a stand. "Laying down would be good," she agrees softly. But she'll let him guide her over, just standing letting Clint hold her until he decides it is time to move. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this," she tells him softly.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint gently strokes Wanda's back as she leans her head against him, keeping up that tactile connection that's so important in moments like these. "It's okay," Clint whispers back. "You did everything you were supposed to you saw your people in danger and you came back and worked until you had nothing more to give. If more royals were like you maybe that monarchy thing wouldn't be so bad," he murmurs a light callback to their earlier discussions of such things.

"The good news is though the world is rallying, SHIELD will have a helicarrier there as soon as they figure out what's causing those magnetic disturbances and Wakanda has also really stepped up," he leans his head against hers. "You did your part, means you get to rest while the others do theirs."

"Alright then," Clint says, "Gonna pick you up if you don't mind," and if she does then he'll simply walk her over otherwise he dip down and scoops her fully into his arms and walks her the few feet to the bed and lays her down ontop the covers, before kneeling down beside the bed. "Better?" he asks her before reaching out to gently brush his calloused fingers against her cheek, "Like what? A hero?" he says. "You poured your heart out for your people today. Be proud of that."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda closes her eyes, the continued warm emotions and support meaning everything to her. In the end, Clint likely chooses to scoop her up and carry her, Wanda moving but so sluggishly it might be the safer bet. She clings to him as he does, until he's set her down on the bed.

Even after, her hand reaches out to stay on his shoulder as he crouches beside the bed. "Weak. Weak and defeated," she answers him softly. Her eyes drift away from Clint for a moment. "You... mean a lot," she says, looking back to him slowly.

When Clint reaches for her cheek, Wanda leans her head into the touch slightly. Closing her eyes and resting against that gentle caress of his hand. She draws her legs up into something close to a fetal position, though not quite. "I don't feel much like a hero today," she says softly.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint places his hand on the one Wanda rests on his shoulder. Though her words he deflects on instinct, "Like the word plethora?" he asks, get it? Plethora means a lot. Though once he catches himself he offers the more serious, "Thank you, you mean a lot to me too."

"And you're not weak, Wanda, trust me, I know," he says as he pulls himself up onto the bed sitting next to where she'd pulled up her legs and reaching for her hand. "And you're not defeated unless you've given up helping your people, and I don't think you have, all you're doing is getting a little rest."

As to her being a hero? "Hate to break it to you, it doesn't matter if you feel like it, Wanda, because that's what you are. I think so, and I am sure your people do too."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda slides her hands into Clint's as he reaches for it. She squeezes it, but there's the sense of how exhausted she is, that squeezing a bit feeble even for a normal moment. She listens to Clint, eyes staring out across the room. Something he says makes her swallow. "Our people," she says quietly. "I should... put out a statement. If Father is... if he doesn't respond," she adds, just as soft.

But she doesn't make to rise or do anything of the sort yet. "Clint. Who could do something like that? How can anyone hate that much?" she asks. She wraps her free arm a round herself in a tight-self hug and Wanda's body shakes with a few sobs. She presses her eyes tightly closed and shakes her head like she could deny what had happened and it would go away.

Clint Barton has posed:
The squeeze says a lot for where Wanda's at, but he squeezes back gently, "Worry about that in the morning, you and Pietro can work that out." If she was too tired to really squeeze his hand then statements could definitely wait. "Gives your dad and sister time to get found as well."

When Wanda begins to sob, Clint shifts over and lays down beside her, pulling her close while he comforts her. "I don't know, it's surprising how big of assholes people can be if given a chance," he says. "But whoever they are, we'll find them and make sure they answer for this."

Clint Barton has posed:
The squeeze says a lot for where Wanda's at, but he squeezes back gently, "Worry about that in the morning, you and Pietro can work that out." If she was too tired to really squeeze his hand then statements could definitely wait. "Gives your dad and sister time to get found as well."

When Wanda begins to sob, Clint shifts over and lays down beside her, pulling her close while he comforts her. "I don't know, it's surprising how big of assholes people can be if given a chance," he says. "But whoever they are, we'll find them and make sure they answer for this."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The auburn-haired woman is pulled over to Clint, and once she feels him there close and his arms around her, Wanda presses close and hides her face down against his shoulder where it meets his neck. She continues to shake with a few more quiet sobs before finally growing still as Clint talks to her.

"So many children on the island," she says softly, drawing a shuddering breath. She lifts her head to stare at the room for a few moments before finally looking back to Clint. Wanda's arms slide around him and she burrows deeper into his embrace as she hugs herself to him. Her head ends up resting against his shoulder like a pillow.

Wanda draws a few slow breaths. Finally her mind must be trying to focus on something, anything but the horror she feels. "I'm sorry, about our dinner. I thought the food had turned out well," she says. She knows it's not an important matter right now. But she says it anyway.

Clint Barton has posed:
Brushing his fingers through her hair without even thinking about it, holds her close to try and sooth her hurts. Though when she speaks of the children, "Don't do that to yourself Wanda," he says. "They all deserve to be remembered but right now it doesn't help anyone if you let that sort of thing drag you down. There'll be time to remember them, I promise."

He continues to stroke her hair even after he realizes he's doing it, ready to stop if there's an objection. He smiles wryly at the mention of dinner. "It did, should heat up okay too, so we can give it a try tomorrow. Have dinner for breakfast," he says giving her a little wink of encouragement. It was all going to be okay, the world would keep spinning, there was still life to be lived.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
There's no objection, and after the first few moments, Wanda seems to lean her head slightly into Clint's touch as the fingers brush through the soft, freshly washed tresses. There's a faint herbal scent from her shampoo during that shower that helped cleanse more than just her body.

Wanda lies quietly as Clint makes the best of the missed meal. She looks over to him as she lies close in his arms. She gives him a nod about having it tomorrow, letting him draw her into thoughts of something other than Genosha.

Wanda leans over towards him, and brings her lips to his cheek. She presses a soft, gentle kiss there, and then returns his head to his shoulder. Snuggling in gently within the arms that seem to promise her safety and caring in these trying moments. "I don't know what I'd have done, if you weren't here," she says quietly. "Probably tried to go back." She swallows, knowing it would have ended her if she'd managed enough magic to try. "I'm... I'm glad you're here," she tells him.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint lets the damp auburn strands tumble through his fingers as he takes in her nod, before suddnely her lips are pressed softly against his whiskered cheek, his eyes rounding in suprise before he smiles and yes, even colours a little around his cheeks.

That thought sent shivers down his spine, her going back, he didn't know much about magic but he guessed running out of energy mid teleport led to all sorts of bad news. "Glad I'm here too then, no trying to go back, okay? Not until you've had a chance to rest. Okay?" he asks her concern in his eyes as he seeks her own.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff looks to Clint, her eyes meeting his. "I promise," she tells him, giving a small nod of her head. "I know I can't do anything for them if... and... and I need to. I need to be there for the people that survived," she says quietly. "Thank you. For SHIELD, for the helicarrier. And whatever other help they can give," she tells Clint.

Wanda draws a deep breath and lets it out. "Tell me about Iowa? About... I don't know. School. Or, the place you grew up. Or... how you picked up your first bow? I don't care. Just... tell me something? Help distract me for a little while?" she asks him, gazing back up into his eyes. She's hurting. It's in her eyes and her voice. And the way Clint can feel her clinging to him, like she were afraid a wind was going to sweep her away at any moment.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Good," Clint says with his eyes still on hers for a moment before he turns them away. "Yeah, need you in one piece so you can help," he says in agreement. He looks back at the mention of SHIELD. "SHIELD was going to help if I called or not, just passing along the good news."

"Iowa?" Clint asks surprised at first and then smiles as he gets what she's driving at. He considers her question, "Home was a mess, and my first bow is tied to the scumbags who trained me," he says, seaching his mind for a good story meant to lift her spirits then something she'd said before jogs a memory. "Cap," he says out of the blue, then smiles when he realizes how weird that sounds. "Back when I was a kid they were reprinting some of his old comics from the 40's but they had a current letter section," he says. "Anyhow, I loved Cap comics, and so did my brother, we used to tear around the boys home, this was after our folks died, pretending to be Cap and Bucky. I dunno why a bunch of old comics hit us so hard, it was like even on the page Cap made you want to be a better person, y'know?" he says with a whistul smile. "Anyhow one day I got it in my head to write the letters column, had to get one of the father's to post it for me, anyhow, I wait weeks and weeks and eventually I open an issue and holy shit, they printed my letter," he says before breaking into a chuckle. "I was so proud, bragged to my brother until he punched me and told me to shut up."

He shakes his head and then looks to Wanda, "So, yeah, that was definitely a highlight. But not a word to Cap, alright? If he knew..." Clint shook his head, god, he didn't even want to think of that kind of embarassment. "So yeah, that's just between you and me."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda listens quietly. The TV is turned off, whether that was Clint's doing or JARVIS. Probably Clint. The candle still burns on the table, shedding soft light. Outside the night is dark, the city lights coming in through the windows to gently light Clint's face as he tells Wanda the story.

It's perfect really. Distracting her from her other thoughts. A charming story that even manages a near-smile by the end of it. "That is a very nice story," she responds quietly. "Much better than the dumpster," she says, trying at humor. Her delivery falls a bit flatter than it normally would.

Wanda moves her hand, it coming to rest on Clint's chest as she lies there with him. "Your letter? What was it that it said?" she asks him. "And I promise. Not a word to Cap. Though it's an adorable story."

Clint Barton has posed:
In all the room is quite peaceful lit now by only the one candle and what light from the city made it across the Avenger's wide lawn. In other circumstances he'd have found it romantic, and the shared closeness with Wanda all sorts of interesting. Though tonight, he's just there for her, and that's enough for him., so he tells his story with an easy smile, and when she mentions the dumpster again he even laughs and rolls his eyes, "Always that story with you, it happened one time, one time," he says falling into his role in their little play around this story.

As for the letter story, of course he knew what he wrote, he knew every word, but somehow that made him feel a little bit self-coscious especially when it was about someone they knew, so he offers the Cliff's Notes version, "Oh something like he was my favourite superhero," he pauses to add, "And I'm holding you to that promise," he carries on, "And that if they had Cap books in history class we might go more often." He smiles at that last bit. "Yeah, I was /that/ kid in school."

"Anyhow they do a response when they posted the letters and mine said a bunch of stuff but ended with that Cap would want me to go to class," he says. "I mean even then I knew it was just some editor in New York writing the reply, but for a just a minute it felt like Clint Barton, boys home kid, was worth of a few seconds of Cap's time," a smile for that. "I even almost went to class," he says. "Almost."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Clint does finally manage to coax a smile from Wanda, if a small, tired-looking one. "That is... precious," she tells him quietly. "I don't know that there are many people out there who Steve Roger has not inspired at one time or another," Wanda says slowly. "I think it is a beautiful story. But I will hold your secret, my friend," she tells Clint.

Wanda rests her head on Clint's shoulder, just looking across his chest and over at the room for awhile. "You know, you're someone's Cap now. People like the little boy at the park. Remember, the one you gave the id badge. And your female Hawkeye?" Wanda gently pats Clint's chest where her hand is resting. "You're the one that inspires them. That they see something good, that they want to emulate. Who knows. Maybe even write into a comic book sometime?"

Wanda looks back up to Clint. The soft, faint light paints shadows on his face, making it look even more rugged than it already is, in a pleasing way.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Yeah, Cap has that effect doesn't he?" Clint says before musing, "Got to be surreal for him. That's part of why I don't want to let it get around, I don't want him looking at me like I'm just some fanboy, or making him feel like he can't get away from the whole hero thing in the mansion, y'know?"

Then of course Wanda has to go and point out /Clint/ has that effect on people but once he's thinking about it he can't really deny it, there was the kid in the park, the box of fan mail in his room and of course 'Hawkingbird' running around out there fighting crime. "Gah," he says. "Warn a guy when you do something like that... that thought is going to fester," he says with a wry disbeliving laugh. People looked up to him, it was weird.

"Ha, right like there'd be a comic book about me, you I could see, you've got the whole magic princess thing going on, way better demographic appeal," he teases lightly giving Wanda a good natured squeeze only to find her studying his face.

"What?" he asks her.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda doesn't respond to the question for a few moments, just continues looking at the play of light and shadow upon Clint's face. "I'd buy your comic book," she tells him softly, and then she snuggles down against his body, her arms that is about him hugging Clint back, the other still resting on his chest.

"Thank you for being here for me," Wanda tells him quietly. She lies with him for a few more moments before saying softly,"You know... I thought you and Natasha... that you were, ahhh. Together? I was afraid the time we've spent together, that it might upset her." Wanda lifts her eyes back to Clint. "I guess maybe I feel a little foolish about it, now. Just you two seemed so close. I shouldn't have assumed though," she tells him.

Wanda lies quietly, still soaking up the caring that she feels from him. "You probably can't sense this. Or maybe you can, you have studied so much of fighting, maybe learned some of it. But your chi. Your energy. You're offering so much of it to me right now. Mine is... well. You can guess. I can feel it though," Wanda says, moving a hand to touch over her chest, and then back to Clint's. "It is... beautiful. And warm. And... it says a lot to me, that you care this much that your spirit would make that connection."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint smiles, "Well if they're crazy enough to make one I'll let you know," he says lightly, before he takes all of what she says in without comment, then goes quiet mulling it over.

He starts with the easy part, "Yeah you're not the first to think that about Nat and I, but it's not like that for us," he ponders how to quantify the bond that had grown between them over the years built by shared danger and saving each other's lives more times than either could count. "She's not my girlfriend, my friend or my sister, she's... Nat," he says looking to Wanda to see it she followed. "But it's easy to mistake it for what you saw."

Clint wasn't the spiritual sort but when she mentions it, he does feel something though much like his connection with Nat it defys easy description, "I think I feel something, the martial arts I learned weren't really the chi kind," more direct and pragmatic than spiritual.

He glances at her, "I care about you alot, you're a special woman Wanda, seriously."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda gets a small, soft smile as Clint speaks about Nat and his connection to her. She nods slowly as if she thinks she understands maybe what it is Clint has with the Russian woman. "People can become very close. Sometimes without... romantic feelings," she agrees quietly.

Wanda looks up at Clint, her eyes still a little red-rimmed from before, but looking a little better. Her green-eyed gaze is quiet. Gentle, as she looks at Clint. "I care about you a lot too," Wanda tells him quietly. The hands that is resting on Clint's chest moves up until her fingertips are touching his jaw on one side. Just so very lightly. Brushing through the whiskers there. "Will you be here when I wake in the morning?" she asks him quietly. And she doesn't have to say more for him to know she'd like it if he will be.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Yeah," Clint says giving Wanda a bit of a puzzled look before it clears, "Yeah, they can," he says. "Might have gone that way with Nat and I earlier, but at this point it would just be weird, I don't think of her like that."

Clint doesn't move away from the touch but the puzzled look returns for a brief moment only to vanish when she asks if he'll be there in the morning and it's replaced with certitude, "You can count on it," he promises her quietly meeting her eyes.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's expression carries her emotions. Gratitude. She slides over a little further atop Clint, resting down in his arms and partially atop him. Then Wanda rests her head down to his chest and closes her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers. At first it might seem she's apologizing to Clint. But then she says, "Sorry I wasn't there to save you."

Her eyes stay closed and she lies there. For all of the power people know she possesses, in the moment she seems very fragile. Trusting in the man who holds her gently to care for her as sheer exhaustion seems to be enough to cause her to soon doze. Her breathing growing more steady as she rests atop Clint.

Clint Barton has posed:
"For-" Clint begins but then he understands. "Oh," he says and he tightens his hold on Wanda for just a moment of quiet support.

As she sleeps, Clint remains awake in the dim lit room listening to her breathing, until, slowly some time later he drifts off, with Wanda still in his arms.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
By now most of the world has heard of the destruction that has been wrought on the nation of Genosha. A nation where millions of mutants and humans coexisted together in a peaceful society. A peace that had been born out of prejudice, hatred and slavery.

The citizens of Genosha appreciate the aid and support that has been offered in our time of need. Those who are searching for survivors and giving medical and humanitarian aid have our deepest gratitude.

We ask for your prayers, not just for Genosha, but for an end to the kind of hatred and fear that had led to such a barbarous act of senseless destruction. We will continue to do all that we can for our people, and for those around the world who value freedom and equality.


Princess Wanda and Prince Pietro Maximoff of the soverign Republic of Genosha