Wanda came home from a shopping trip laden with bags and takeout for dinner. The food went into the kitchen and Wanda made her way upstairs towards her room to put her new clothes away. She wondered vaguely where Pietro was and then confusion set in as she saw that her bedroom door was ajar. She hadn't left it that way. Nor could she grasp why the sounds of were groans and moans were drifting into the hall. From her room. The bags slipped to the floor and she moved forward silently, pressing the door open and standing in the door frame with wide eyes at the sight before her . All she could manage was a sharp intake of breath, like a stab in her chest, and a murmured, "Oh. Right." After a few seconds that felt an eternity she turned and strode purposefully away, back down the stairs, towards the kitchen.
Well that had been. Unexpected. Her first thought was a startling stab of anger compounded with raging jealousy. As she ascended the stairs she felt the strangest sensation of her mind detaching from the situation. She looked coldly and analytically at all these emotions that were making her feel physically ill. As she questioned her jealousy it was joined by guilt because in the very act of feeling jealous of them both she was betraying Pietro. And then somehow it felt like Pietro was betraying her, and Tony was betraying her and- no, that wasn't quite it either it was- What?
She stumbled on the last step and steadied herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps, before continuing across the living room. Perhaps it wasn't exactly betrayal. It was loneliness, yes that was it. It was being alone when Pietro and Tony had each other right now and Wanda couldn't seem to have either of them and everyone had someone. It was the sheer frustration of continuous denial of what she wanted. It was guilt at these kids she had taken in because what sort of heartless bitch would she be if she hadn't, regardless of what Nick or Tony said. It was the horrifying knowledge that it was her fault Billy had been kidnapped. She couldn't protect him. They had come all the way from another universe to find her, the least she could do... the least she could do was give. Give to Billy and Teddy and Tommy and Pietro and Nick and Tony and Cap. It was giving and giving and giving- and getting nothing back. It was being asked to kill again and being fine with it. It was nightmares, oh god the nightmares, and waking alone at night with strangled screams in her throat.
Wanda wondered why her hands were shaking, why there were tears standing in her eyes. Her distant mind noted, how odd it all was, that her heart was racing and there was a lump in her throat and she felt as though she wasn't getting quite enough air. Doing her best to ignore this she set about the task in the kitchen of getting dinner ready; laying out plates and glasses so she could take care of her brother who was upstairs having sex effortlessly with the man who Wanda could hardly get a few minutes alone with. And they were in her bed. As that fact finally registered it was like they'd slapped her in the face. Now insult was added to the incomprehensible clutter of emotions battering at her brain. Breathing was becoming impossible. The glass she held in her fingers slipped and smashed into a thousand pieces on the marble kitchen tiles.
The sound of the glass shattering seemed to crack something within Wanda and her mind could no longer remain and logical aloof. Her emotions over powered her and Wanda's lip began to tremble as the tears that had been threatening finally spilled down her cheeks. With great gulping breaths Wanda attempted to calm herself as she stared down at the glass shards. She wiped at her eyes insistently but she could no longer hold it in and a sob escaped her lips as she slid down to her knees, back pressed against a cabinet. Wanda's shoulders shuddered as she pressed quaking fingers to her face and wept.