Wanda was not in a costume. The Scarlet Witch was dressed in black sweat pants and a S.H.I.E.L.D. tee shirt she'd stolen from Nick Fury's duffel bag and a pair of tennis shoes she'd barely had time to slip her feet into. Pale and bleary-eyed, her curls wild, her fingers aglow she burst from a side corridor and the light in her hands exploded in a barrier from floor to ceiling. Her shoes slid on the slick metallic floor with the momentum of her running and she nearly collided with Spider-Man, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to keep herself steady while she kept another glowing hand palm up towards the energy shield she'd created. "Hi," she greeted him breathlessly, "Looks like you could use a hand."