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The Avengers were a family. Anyone could see that.
They treated each other like siblings: with the endless banter, the occasional fights, and the obvious underlying trust and love they all held for one another. They belonged together, the six of them.
And Wanda, as usual, was the odd one out.
It wasn't that they were mean to her, or left her out on purpose. But it had only been a few weeks since they'd defeated Ultron, since Pietro had died, and they still treated her like a delicate little flower that could wither at any moment.
Tony and Thor barely talked directly to her; they didn't seem to be sure how to handle any amount of grief she was carrying, and Wanda was sure they were scared she would break down in front of them (not that she ever would). Bruce and Clint didn't evade her as much, and were always really kind to her, but they were also awkward and didn't seem to know what to do with her either.
Natasha and Steve were the ones who really helped. They treated her as if she were anyone else and constantly tried to make her feel a part of their family. It didn't always work, but it did help Wanda feel better. At the beginning, when she could barely breathe with the grief Pietro's death brought, they'd been right there to hold her and remind her she wasn't alone anymore. They were the only ones Wanda felt truly comfortable with.
Then there was Vision.
He was... peculiar, to say the least.
You could clearly tell he'd been a computer, and had only started the 'human experience' a few weeks ago. He was clumsy, had absolutely no idea about social interactions -or how to speak and interact with other people, really- and had almost no emotional intelligence.
Still, Wanda could tell he really was trying, and over the past few weeks, she'd started to become endeared to these qualities.
When she was feeling particularly sad, and spent the whole day locked in her bedroom, Vision would float in through the wall -still, despite several attempts Wanda had made at teaching him to use the door- and sit down with her. On these days, she was almost always watching some old sitcom, which somehow still managed to bring her comfort, despite everything that had happened.
Today was one of those days, and Vision had managed to stay quiet for a surprising amount of time, before starting to ask his usual questions.
"I believe I have finally understood," he stated, after the fifth time the little kid ran into the wall in the span of three minutes, "it is funny, because we thought he hurt himself, but we were wrong."
Wanda studied him for a moment before turning back to the tv, "No, we always knew he was going to be okay. It's a sitcom. Nobody gets hurt, ever."
Ten minutes later, he spoke again. "Does it bother you that I'm here?"
"What do you mean?" Asked Wanda, stopping the show and turning towards him.
"Earlier today, Steve wanted to come in to check on you, but Natasha said to give you space. That you locked your door for a reason." He stopped for a moment, and turned to look at the door. "But since that was in the morning, I concluded that six hours is enough time for you to get your 'space', and since it wouldn't be the first time I have come here to keep you company, it seemed fine for me to come in here." He turned to look at her again, letting a few heartbeats pass in silence. "But it just occurred to me that I did not check your door."
"It's locked, still," said Wanda softly. She turned away from him and closed her eyes for a second. "But I don't think I mind your presence. I did at first. When Pietro had just died, I wanted to be left alone. But Steve and Natasha pushed until I let them in, and that turned out to help me more than being alone ever would have."
"Then why do you lock the door?"
"Because being alone is important too, sometimes. It's not good to keep all the hurt to yourself, but when you're healing, you also need time to process things for yourself. To grieve."
Vision stayed silent after that, for so long that Wanda was tempted to put the show on again. But it felt nice, the companionable silence. She hadn't felt it since before she and Pietro joined the HYDRA experiment.
Finally, Vision spoke again. "Why would you want to grieve alone?"
Wanda sighed, considering her answer. "Because they didn't know Pietro. They met him, and spoke to him, but they didn't know him. I know Clint feels bad, and mourned him too, to some extent. But Pietro was my brother. We grew up together, and we survived together. He was the one person who knew me completely, and I him. It wasn't easy, but we always had each other. No one else here knew him, so I must carry the memory of who he truly was alone."
Wanda had started to cry during her speech. Not big, just a few tears that slipped past the haze she was in, but Vision noticed. He seemed confused, for a second, before laying his hand tentatively on her leg.
Wanda smiled slightly, looking down at his hand while she wiped the tears away. "Thanks."
"Does it make you cry to talk about your brother?" He asked, removing his hand.
"Sometimes," she answers, hugging her knees, "It always hurts. Every time I so much as think about him. But it's a little bit less, each day. Except for days like this, when I'll be fine for a week and then suddenly wake up feeling horrible again."
"Oh," was everything Vision said, before getting lost in his thoughts again.
Wanda puts her sitcom on again, letting the stupid jokes and the familiar laughter coming from the tv soothe her back into a state of numbness. It didn't fix much, on the long run, numbing everything, but she'd spent the entire morning crying and had no energy left to cry like that anymore.
Vision spoke again when the episode ended. "Why do you always watch sitcoms? You once told me they reminded you of your family, but if thinking of Pietro causes you pain, why doesn't thinking of your family cause you pain as well?"
"Grief works in funny ways, Vision," answered Wanda softly, "I really don't know. There are other things from my childhood that do cause me pain, like my favourite treat, or my parents' names. But this... it always gave me comfort. It reminds me of movie nights with my family, the four of us, surrounded in a cocoon of love and happiness, regardless of what was going on outside. Somehow, that feeling stayed."
"I'm truly sorry, Wanda," Vision said after a while, "It doesn't do you much good to hear it, but it seems to me you did not deserve any of this pain. And I hope you manage to find your way through it."
Wanda didn't answer, instead closing her eyes to try and keep the tears at bay.
"Do you wish for me to leave?"
Wanda shook her head slowly, turning to look at the silly robot-man who seemed so determined to understand her pain. "No. Stay. Please."
Vision nodded, and put on the next episode of her sitcom.
Maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought. Maybe she just needed to heal a little, and only then start to feel like she belonged. It had been a while since she'd had anything resembling a family, other than Pietro. It would be nice, she imagined.
She just needed to give herself some time.