171/A Reason To Feel

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A Reason To Feel
Date of Scene: 28 February 2020
Location: Wanda's Room
Synopsis: In the depths of tragedy and hurt, something is found worth holding on to.
Cast of Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton




Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda returns to her room from the kitchen. "I should have gotten something to eat," she says to herself, having already forgotten she had the crackers and peanut butter. "I wonder if there was any of the beef left," she says softly.

Wanda shakes her head and goes over to a small table in the corner. She gathers her magic and waves her hand above the table, removing the protection spell that hides her potion ingredients away in another dimension. "Chamomile for fogging the memory," she says, getting some from a jar and adding it to a crucible. Wanda starts some water boiling on a little burner, and begins gathering other ingredients for her potion.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint takes awhile coming up from downstairs, he finishes his coffee catches up with Jen and Nat, scrapes his failed baking project into the trash, then checking the time and the Mansion's proximity to a decent Eastern European bake shop he takes a little outing before making his way back to the Mansion. Even then, he stops to heat up some of the meat from the other night and takes it along with the box from the bakery upstairs and knocks on Wanda's door.

"Wanda, you still up?" he calls gently at the door. Listening for any signs he might be disturbing her.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda doesn't really think before answering, calling out, "Yes, I'm still up. Come in." She adds another ingredient to the mortar and then carefully begins grinding it with a pestle. There are three different liquid containers, one is blue and is over a flame, while the other two sit nearby. There's also a little bowl that already has the contents powdered as she sits there at the little work bench.

The door will swing open readily enough. The lights are down a little low, to glowing orbs above Wanda's work bench not seeming to be plugged into anything. Probably magic. Electricity around potion ingredients can be bad.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint blinks catching sight of what's going on in the room. He's known Wanda for nearly two years and this is probably the first time he's seen her doing an honest to god spell.

"Uh hey, brought you some food, though looks like eye of newt would have been the better choice," he steps inside then, letting the door close behind him. Figuring despite the easy welcome, Wanda might not want the rest of the team to see this.

"Whatcha making?" he asks setting the food down after moving to the kitchenette.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda looks over from the work table. "Oh, you must have been reading my mind. I was thinking I should have checked for any of that dish from the other night, I never did get to try it." She looks back, measuring out something pink and fuzzy, and adding it to the mortar and beginning to work the pestle around it again.

"I don't think I can function like this," she tells Clint. "I keep seeing the people who are gone. I keep... feeling. And they need me to be clear headed," she tells him. Her voice is tight with emotion. Pained.

"So I'm going to make something to make it better. So I won't feel and I can be focused," Wanda says, glossing right past the "won't feel" part motioning with her hand in a straight ahead gesture when she talks about focus.

"Some... what else do I need. Something to prolong it," she says, picking up a small stoppered bottle, but then setting it back aside and looking for something else.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint from the kitchenette, Clint says, "Yeah, you mentioned you hadn't tried it so I brought up some, it's warm so if you're able to take a break, then you should have some, it's good warmed up," he knew because he snuck some on the way up. "I also got us some bundevara, don't know if you had them but Google said they were popular around Transia," he says before offering a slightly embrassed smile. "Tried to make some but they burnt," mostly because he'd fallen asleep waiting for them to come out of the oven. "But! There was a shop that sold them that was still open, so, I got us a couple," he sniffs the pink pastry box. "They smell good."

That's when it hits him.

"Wait, what?"he says forgetting all about the food. "What do you mean won't feel? Like how?" he says. He'd seen his share of people who took things to escape their feelings and it didn't go well for any of them.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda continues to working. Taking one of the containers and very carefully measuring out an amount of liquid, before pouring it down a glass rod into one of the other containers. "You got bundevara? Oh it's so good. I haven't had it in forever. It's difficult to make too." She pauses and smiles at Clint, eyes searching his face. "You did it for me?" she asks him.

She looks back to the potion she's working on. Wanda leans down low, looking at the mixture that is heating. She turns down the flame just a little. "Need it to cook slowly, build the potency," she says to herself, before answering Clint. "I won't feel. I won't hurt or have my thoughts distracted by caring for the individuals. I'll know what needs to be done, but I won't have the emotions holding me back from helping," she says, eyes on the small beaker.

She stands up then, moving over to the kitchenette. "Thank you, I'm starving," she says, eyeing the pastry box.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods, "Yeah," he confirms about the pastry treats. "And you're not joking they're hard to make, whoever invented pyllo pastry was a cruel, cruel man.... or woman." Then there was /that/ question. "Yeah, for you, I know you've been working your ass off and figured I could coax you into taking a break with them." Always an excuse, never, yes, I did it for you. It was too raw, left him too exposed.

As Wanda comes over, Clint steps between her and the pastry box, making an actual T with his hands. "Whoa time out, Wanda," he says. "So you're going to wipe out all your emotions?" he asks her. "For how long?"

Even if it was for a day, he didn't like the sound of that.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda pauses, but the seriousness that Clint is showing isn't quite matched in the simple way she answers. "I'm not really sure. There's always a price," she replies to Clint. "You just have to need something bad enough to be willing to pay it. Isn't that how it always works?" she asks, looking over to him more fully.

And maybe seeing him like she hasn't in the previous hours. Wanda reaches up and touches Clint's face softly. "I can't be what they need like this. I hurt. It's just hurt and... there's nothing else in here, and I can't... I have to have something else, so... so it'll stop," she says, her hand closing into a lightly made fist and tapping atop her heart.

Clint Barton has posed:
The blaise attitude about what she was doing doesn't ease any of Clint's concerns. "That's what you told me, yeah, but what is the price, Wanda?" he says, remembering their jokes about magic and that some things like bringing back the dead came with too great a cost.

He reaches up to touch her hand as she touches his face. "Nothing isn't something though Wanda," he tells her. "I know it seems like a lot is on your shoulders right now, but you'll get through it, put some of it off on Pietro, or I'll have SHIELD find some of your father's people who were out of the country when it happened, something," he says, gently squeezing that hand. "I know you're just trying to help, but trust me I've heard a lot of addicts start off their habits talkiing like you are right now. You'll take away your pain for a bit, but what hapoenes when whatever you're doing wears off and the pain comes back? You telling me you're not going to do this again? I know everything hurts right now, but, the only way that changes is facing it."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's eyes search about. She looks more tired than she seemed downstairs. As if she's been running on reserves and now those are starting to run dry. "I just can't go on like this, Clint," she tells him. "It's all I have inside of me is this hurt. I can't think straight. If I can just make it go away so it doesn't hurt..." she stammers.

Wanda's eyes fall away, her hands hanging at her sides. She turns away from him, taking a few steps away from the kitchenette. "I just need to feel something else. I... I don't know what to do," she says. "I'm so alone... Pietro has gone silent since it happened. Probably searching for how did it." She takes a few more steps, her hands lifting to cover her face for a moment.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint can see that Wanda is near to her limits, whatever energy she had all but gone now after days of dealing with the unimaginable. "I get it," Clint says, rubbing his thumb between her thumb and forfinger. "I do," he says, and if she lets him he'll guide her to sit down on the edge of her bed. "I felt that way too when my I lost my brother," he's never told her about how he and his brother parted ways, by the way he looks at her, it's not a happy story. "I felt empty inside, like there was nothing left after that, and every horrible thing I said to him and all the good things I meant to say but never did just kept bouncing around in my brain."

"I know what happened to you and your people is so much worse," he says, "But I do know this gets better," he says. "It may not be as fast as you wanted, but it does happen, trust me on that," he says, turning to look at Wanda, his blue eyes seeking her own. "And you're not alone Wanda, you've got me and the team, and if it's what it takes to get you though this, I'll stay here every night, but," he looks towards the work table. "That, doesn't feel like a solution, not one that you'll be happy with in the long run," he makes a face. "I'm not going to tell you not to do it, it's your mind, your heart, your life, but I am going to ask you to hold off for tonight. That stuff will be here in the morning, and if when we wake up in the morning, you still want to do that then I won't get in your way, but just give yourself a night, okay?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff lets Clint guide her steps, moving her over to the bed where it is easy enough for him to urge the auburn-haired woman to turn and sit on the mattress's edge. Her eyes lift to look up at him. The normal warmth and caring and empathy are relegated to the shadows by the pain that is reflected in them.

As Clint moves closer, Wanda lifts her eyes up towards him higher. She swallows, her eyes going over to the table, to the partially made potion that sits, just awaiting the final few steps to be completed.

Wanda looks back to Clint. "You'll stay with me?" she asks him in a small voice. If he lets her, Wanda reaches out both of her hands to take one of his. To draw it to her chest and hold it in both hands against her as she gazes up at him.

Clint Barton has posed:
Seeing the caring and warmth absent from Wanda's face was like looking at the ruins of Genosha all over again, something once vibrant and alive cruelly reduced to ashes and pain.

He reaching over with his free hand, he gently touches her face, and smiles sadly at her, "It'll be okay," he tells her. "You don't have to do this alone," he promises before he nods, "Yeah, I'm here as long as you want me here, I'm not royalty, I can't teleport people, or lift ruined buildings, but I can stay here and help you, so then I'm helping, and protecting someone imprortant to me while I do it." There's a tired grin from the archer as she takes his hand and draws it to her heart. "Pretty good deal if you ask me."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda looks up at Clint as his fingers give that gentle caress over her cheek. "You're important to me as well," she says, voice nearly a whisper, but loud enough for Clint to hear her. She swallows and draws her legs apart so there is room for Clint to approach up to the edge of the bed if he lets her draws him forward.

Wanda leans her head forward, forehead resting against Clint's torso at the top of his abdomen. "I hate that you have to see me like this," she says quietly. "You looked so nice in that blue shirt. When you came over for dinner. I just wanted you to know how much you mean," she says quietly. Wanda slowly draws her head back, having to tilt it farther now to look up and see Clint's face. Some of the pain is gone. Replaced by something else. Something in her eyes meant just for him.

Clint Barton has posed:
There's something in Wanda's words that warms Clint's heart, as he lets himself be drawn forward, closer to her, as she leans her head against his torso. He lays his hand against the back of her head, letting his fingers run through those auburn locks of hers.

When she leans back, he looks down, "Thanks," he says warmly of the compliment. "I'd be here all night if I returned the favour and told you all the times you looked amazing," he says, before continuing, "And you don't look any worse for hurting, not really, I know you're in there Wanda, and that's enough."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
In those moments Clint was stroking softly through her hair, and holding her head against him, he might have felt Wanda relax. Relax and soak in the warmth and caring that he is giving her. She was slow to break that moment, savoring it until finally she needed to look up and see him.

Wanda slowly rises to her feet. With Clint so close to the bed, she's very near to him, her body brushing against his as she rises. She looks up to the taller man from up close. Her green eyes seem to search his own as if looking for something, but she doesn't say anything. Just looks up to him in a way that makes him seem like the only thing in her world right now. Her tongue touches her lips as if to speak, but still no words come.

Clint Barton has posed:
Feeling Wanda relax was reward enough for all of this, to know that he'd lifted a little bit of the pain she felt. It was a little victory but one he happily savours.

When she rises he helps, her, stepping back and taking hold of her arm to help her navigate the tiny space between him and the bed. While she searches his eyes, he searches hers, and he finds himself in a frozen moment. Aware of what she searched for as he searched for the same thing. "Wanda..." he says as much to say /something/ and break the silence of the moment.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
She continues to gaze up at Clint, the two of them so close to each other she can feel the warmth of his body there. The soft green eyes look up into his own in that shared search for what can be glimpsed. That window inside that might reveal something being felt within.

The single word is spoken. Her name. It's a simple thing, yet to Wanda's ears it seems to be a question. A question that she answers with a timid look and then a nod of her head. She lets him see in her eyes what she's feeling, though doing so leaves her feeling vulnerable. As vulnerable as she can ever remember feeling before.

Clint Barton has posed:
They were going to stand ther forever. Each feeling what they felt but frozen with uncertainty... it was stupid, it was smart, it was...

"Oh fuck," Clint murmurs as he does what has been on his mind since Wanda first stood ther infront of him like this, he cups her face in his hand, leans down and kisses her.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
In that moment Clint reaches to gently take Wanda's face in his hands, her eyes light up, and she gets the first true Wanda-smile that he's seen since that horrible moment days earlier.

Wanda leans in closer to Clint, her face turned up towards his as their lips touch. Slow, soft and sweet, that first brush of her lips to Clint's. As if she's wanted for this so long, that she needs to take it slowly. To feel every moment of it. To have that little tremble pass down her body when the warmth of his lips touch to hers. To feel the warmth of his body, the hard, brawny plains of his physique as she leans closer into him.

Wanda's hands touch to his chest very softly, as if having to go slowly to assure it is ok. But once she touches him, her hands slide on around his body, curling up his back towards his shoulders as she lets herself cling to him. She kisses him back, her heart thumping in her chest as all of the emotion it has held bottle up is released into that sweet, beautiful kiss.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint feels his pace quicken as he bends for that kiss, it feels like free falling, he doesn't know if this is the right thing or not but right now it's past the time for consideration. That smile though, it encourages him and so when they're lip finally meet his fears vanish and for that moment there's only Wanda.

In no hurry himself he doesn't rush the kiss, he, as she does, savours it, locking the moment into his memory. While her arms go around his neck and shoulders, his wrap around her waist and pull her close, feeling the warmth of her up against him, letting himself enjoy it without the million niggling little worries that held him back from doing this sooner.

He deepens the kiss if he lets, her, but keeps the same slow pace she set, not rushing the moment, and letting it breath while their emotions surged and hearts pounded. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he breaks the kiss to catch his breath, to look down quizzically, smiling, with his arms still wrapped around her to try and guage how she felt about it all.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda lets her head turn further up towards the taller man, letting Clint lean down from above her offered lips. She nestles in against his body readily when his arms enfold the small of her waist and pull her nearer. Her lips are given in the sweet embrace, her own kiss deepening to match the slowly rising passion that Clint infuses into the kiss.

Wanda's fingers slide slowly over Clint's back and shoulders. One hand finding his neck. Fingertips playing a light caress over the back of his neck even as she lets out a beautiful little sight into the kiss. Her body against his is a mix of soft curves and willowy leanness. She nestles to the man that has come to be so dear within her heart. Resting in the arms that held her and protected her when she was at her worst.

Every bit of emotion that has been building between them is shared in that sweet joining of their lips. Wanda's lips drift apart, an invitation to the man to kiss her even deeper. She makes soft, warm little sounds, and her fingers tease gently upwards into the hair along the back of the ruggedly handsome man's head.

Clint Barton has posed:
That answer was good enough, Clint rejoins the kiss, taking it deeper now, holding Wanda's willowy frame closer, to him feeling her close in a way that he'd wanted to do since they first met.

He makes a soft noise of against her lips as her fingers tease the back of his neck and makes the hairs there stand up on end. As she invites him deeper he accpets, his hand running through her hair like hers do his.

As she nestles against him he wraps her closer, enclosing her in his arms until at last he needs to break away for air, and even then he doesn't go far, hand still tangled in her hair. "Wanda," he says, seeking her eyes, and finding he didn't have any thing to say and just basks in the feeling of the moment..

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda's eyes are closed during the kiss. When Clint's lips finally pull back from hers, the woman's eyes stay closed for several long seconds while a smile grows slowly. Eventually her eyes flutter open, soft green orbs gazing up into Clint's eyes. "I've wanted you to do that for so long," she tells him.

Her fingers brush gently around to his cheek and she just touches his face with a feather-light caress. She is so relaxed, resting within his arms. These moments, fleeting seconds spent in an embrace of bodies and lips, have left her in a peaceful state so different from what she was feeling moments before.

Her lips move, not making any sound, but he words can be heard just the same. "Stay with me?" she asks him. A warm light comes into her eyes. Something she hasn't felt in days. Hope. Hope that there is something good in her life.

Clint Barton has posed:
In the pausing of the kiss, the niggling doubts well up in the back of Clint's mind, but the smile on Wanda's face, and her words quiet them again and Clint smiles, "Slow on the uptake," he says quietly. "But I've been wanting to do that for...awhile," he settles on, it's hard to say how long he'd wanted this, almost from the day they met.

It was odd almost as if they had changed place, where she was the one guiding him, and he was the one off his game, full of nerves and doubts, though feeling her relax, and seeing the lightness returned to her makes up for that and gives him the little shove he needs.

So when she asks him without words to stay, he nods, and gathers her up into his arms for another kiss, hoping there would be good in this for both of them.