( wanda shrugs at his questions, already having making her way towards the kitchenette even as he stated that he hasn't had much of an appetite. she looks over at what ingredients he has in the mini fridge, picking out enough to make something that she deems would be comforting: a sandwich, with whatever produce he has and the strange meats and cheeses of this place. if he has them here, it means he must like them.
she gets to cutting at some of the produce—the lettuce, the tomatoes. )
I want to be here right now.
( her answer is easy and straightforward, even if it marks at something perhaps a little heavier. wanda wants to be here, with him.
and she adds, perhaps with no real authority on the matter: )
[ Kindness is something Cassian has slowly been learning how to become more comfortable with both showing and receiving - particularly the latter. It's easier when it's from those that he knows well, who are as much stone and sky as he is, but it's those that he doesn't know well that he finds pause with.
Mostly it stems from a place of distrust. He's got his guard up by nature because that's how he's protected himself and those around him. Kindness could be a tool. A facade to hide ulterior motives. Bix tells him ti's paranoia. But if someone isn't on edge between the four of them - of Bix, Brasso, Wilmon (five if you count Bee, which he always did) then who will?
So it's no surprise at all that he all but stares as Wanda takes it upon herself to care for him though he hadn't asked and is convinced he doesn't need. There's a brief pause before he speaks up again, faint, wry albeit tired humor in his voice. ]
Will you take care of my plastic body if I turn into a mannequin?
( she looks back, making a face at him, which then slips into a bit of a smile/neutral expression once she returns to preparing him a sandwich. she's starting to learn how his sense of humor works, so it's not like she finds it annoying so much as she's a little worried for him.
though it's good that he can throw some humor in the situation, despite the general sense of anxiety she is getting from him.
quietly, she finishes up putting together the sandwich, grabs one of the disposable plates, and brings it up to him alongside a bottle of water he kept inside the fridge. once he takes it, she toes off her shoes and climbs up his bed, casual and comfortable: legs outstretched, leaning her weight back on her hands. )
If we wait long enough, it might show up again. ( the thieving mannequin ) I can hold it down for you.
( maybe this is her preparing herself to spill the beans about her powers, should he seem receptive enough to it. she'll gauge his reactions from now until then. )
[ The face is funny. Cute even. But with a straight face and without missing a beat - ]
It's a serious question.
[ A part of him had always possessed some level of dry sometimes morbid sense of humour. It was easier to cope with the situations that he found himself in which was becoming more and more frequent as the years went by as he became more entrenched in the rebellion.
Quietly he accepts the prepared sandwich and drink with a flicker of a smile before beginning to eat. Or at least attempts to. Sure it's just a sandwich but she had still gone out of her way and he's never been one to snub that sort of kindness whether he's comfortable with it or not.
And though Wanda doesn't entertain his "stupid question" when she offers to hold his hitchhiker down he glances up, cockig an eyebrow slightly. ]
( from how she's lying down on the bed, drawing her hands forward, her back presses to the pillow and against the headboard; she can see him from the side, a perfect angle to make sure that he actually eats. it feels like he is grateful, so she cannot find fault, currently, in him—in general. it makes her feel warm, that she has been able to quell his anxieties just a bit, be it because of her kindness or from being with him.
wanda shifts at his answer to her statement, sitting up and bringing her legs to curl to the side, leaning in a little, while some space still remains between them. )
I don't want it to happen, but it's probably inevitable.
[ He doesn't have to be looking at her to know that she's watching him. Monitoring him to ensure that he actually does eat. Unfortunately it isn't the first time that he's been in a similar situation. Briefly it crosses his mind that if he were to tell her that she'd probably reply in some dry manner that that isn't entirely surprising to her - but he dismisses the thought almost as quickly as it comes. ]
Are you always prepared for the worst?
[ There isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone. Rather, there's almost an air of acknowledgement, of like seeing like, amongst the joking air because as they both know, this place is never short of chaos. Some people might call it being pessimistic or so on edge that they can't relax - but Cassian had been caught off guard one too many times in his life by now to not at least have some sort of awareness of consequences or actions that followed something he did. ]
Or is there something else you aren't telling me? [ Now is when his tone lightens, all jest, as he finally take a bite. ] Like a past where you fought mannequins that came to life?
( there isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone, but wanda feels the question cut deep. she has no reason to not expect the worst, through her lived experiences, between her dead family and her destroyed home. it's the fact that he acknowledges it that has the sudden, rapid breathing from her part ease not into a growing sense of anxiety, but something a little more neutral despite how tenuous it all feels.
he takes a bite, and it makes her feel all the much better, that she's able to care for someone, do something good with these awful hands of hers. )
I never fought any mannequins that came to life before.
( she did fight droids; however, there is several things about her that she isn't telling him.
her heart beats like a metronome, steady and fast, and wanda doesn't remember a tightness like this in her chest in so long a time. is she afraid? worried? one of her hands curl into a fist, grabbing at some of the blanket. )
I — want to tell you something, but I don't want you to hate me for it.
( for keeping it a secret, for lying by omission. granted, hate is a strong word. she scrunches her nose, upon hearing herself, and shifts back, curled fist unfurling. )
[ When she says the word "hate" his eyebrow raises a hair. That's definitely a strong word - and it takes everything in his power not to speculate before she's had a chance to tell him. Which is only made all the more difficult thanks to what she says immediately after that.
A part of him is tempted to say that now that she's told him that it will be incredibly difficult not to - but with how seriously she's framing this, he chooses the smarter decision for once to not say anything that could come off as remotely joking or playful. For some reason he gets the impression that that would only result in her backtracking or pretending that she had never said anything at all.
So instead he stills, lowering the sandwich to the plate once again. ]
( and what's fortunate about this thing that she can do, these powers of hers bestowed upon her by the mind stone, is that she can tell that what he says is true: that he would not hate her so easily, even if she herself thinks he might. in the end, wanda's projecting; she looks at her powers with contempt, taking in all the negativity talked about her by the press and politicians, and sees her abilities as something others might fear, or hate her for.
even if she can only control her fear, she wants to, badly, be liked, accepted. finding her place in this new city hasn't been without difficulty, but to just be wanda, a normal human, feels nice, even if just for a while.
so, wanting to trust that this bond she has with cassian is strong and not just ephemeral—his answer and how he's responded with his body language clueing wanda into the fact that he's taking this seriously—she admits in what feels like one beat of her heart, )
I can move things with my mind. ( —and a breath— ) I can feel when these things are nearby if I tried.
( in trying to temper her expectations of his reaction to this, her hands return to holding tightly—the sheet, the fabric of her skirt. she's still nervous about it, despite herself.
(it means a lot to her, however cassian should react.) )
[ Cassian really didn't know what to expect when Wanda had queued him up for news that could very well result in him hating her - but it isn't that.
Though perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. People drawn and dropped here all seem to come from worlds where extraordinary powers were as common as spaceships were in his. All the same, what Wanda describes...doesn't sound so dissimilar to that of how people might speak of the Force.
And his thoughts on the Force, well. To put it bluntly he doesn't believe in it. "Force healers", as some liked to fashion themselves, claimed to be able to help quicken healing or rid someone of aliments altogether but more often than not Cassian had seen it more of a scam than anything else. One of many tricks to try and swindle some credits out of someone desperate for any option to save them.
Were this anyone else he might have dismissed it or reacted in some form of disbelief. But it's Wanda. And he knows, without a shadow of doubt that she isn't lying to him. ]
What do you mean feel things nearby? People? [ His thoughts linger to his mannequin that is still nowhere to be seen. ] Creatures?
( for the seconds that it takes cassian to answer, all wanda can listen to is her beating heart, the thoughts that linger and prod at her insecurities, wondering if the words that will come out of his mouth next will be kind or otherwise bothered.
there's relief in it being questions, but she would be foolish to think that she isn't in the hot seat still.
funny, she created this situation for herself.
she swallows, then licks at her bottom lip, thinking for a moment, before casting her gaze down to her lap. )
Everything.
( the word is quiet, mumbled so low it hardly had any air in its syllables. still, because his reaction isn't reactionary, she elaborates with a little more confidence. )
I told you this place is loud. Beyond the noise of the city, it's just — so crowded, and everyone thinks and feels so much— ( it's not something she does intentionally, and yet it feels like a fault of her own. ) These hitchhikers feel different. They feel empty, so if I focus...
[ She is in the hot seat. But perhaps not in the way that Cassian would think of it. He's had to interrogate people before - a relatively new experience if he's being honest - but it isn't anything like this. There's a gentleness to the way that he approaches this, like he knows that if she senses even the smallest form of fear or uncertainty from him she'll withdraw in on herself.
He doesn't expect his question to bring with it some sort of clarity for him as well however. Their first conversation out on the balcony suddenly makes far more sense in hindsight. And at the mention of thoughts and feelings he stills, a long learned impulse to school expression and feelings rising to the surface.
But after a moment he relaxes, reminding himself that there's no reason for him to keep his guard as far up as he does normally. ]
At least they have that going for them.
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out what to say next. How to react next - and instead he ends up filling the silence with a bite of his sandwich. Silence has never been an uncomfortable hing for him. And in this instance it helps him decide what he wants to ask next and how exactly to ask it without coming across as offensive. ]
( what cassian doesn't realize is that the brief moment he takes to school his expression and any rising feelings is enough to make wanda's breathing hitch, her stomach drop, understanding and seeing what she knows people would do once they realized that she can do what she does.
though he relaxes shortly after, it makes her wish she hadn't said anything.
(it was easier with pietro. he just accepted her, did his best on his own terms to avoid thinking certain things 'too loudly', made an effort when everything was so loud to be the loudest mind she would 'listen' to. he wasn't scared, didn't guard himself against her.
she misses that connection so miserably much.)
there's a quietness to her now, a stillness to her movements, for the silence makes her feel uncomfortable instead. it's nothing that cassian's done nor said, neither is it what he asks next. she's just not as comfortable in her skin about this, and it wears her down how scared she has been of telling others this truth about herself.
her answer is a short shake of her head, voice quiet, knuckles straining with rigidity as she holds herself in place. )
Five years ago or so... My brother and I were subjects of experiments. We survived them, so — it was meant to mean something.
( and her words are measured, too, like she's being overly careful of what she's saying and how she says it. )
[ There's no way for him to know for certain that his initial knee jerk reaction makes her feel the way it does. A part of him has an inkling. It's plain to see from the way she holds herself, how vastly different this Wanda is before him and the one that had been sitting in his passenger seat on the way back from the resort. But a reaction is a reaction and even he knows that there's little he can do about that. He's well aware of his own skepticism - but he's trying to put them aside here. This planet, this galaxy, wherever the hell he's ended up, isn't his.
There's a new set of rules to learn and understand. There's other worlds, new people to learn and understand. And though he rationally understands this, he can't ignore the prickle of guilt and shame that rears its head.]
Experiments?
[ The disbelief in his voice has nothing to do with not believing her. It's simply a precursor for the roiling anger that could be. An anger aimed at injustices against innocents in the galaxy that has always existed in the pit of his stomach since he was six years old. The line of his jaw hardens. ]
...Did they force you to do things? To fight for something?
( wanda shakes her head at his disbelief, but finds no real terseness in his voice, nothing that really shames her for what she's done. some trepidation remains, but she has already made it this far, and it's not like cassian's subsequent questions make her feel like this was a mistake—even if she does wish she could take it back.
there's anger there, solid, and a comforting emotion, despite herself. )
It's a long story.
( is what she manages as an initial explanation, wanting to try and keep the anger that he's showing at bay; it's not his fight to fight, and it's not the type of situation that he deserves to be angry about. wanda — doesn't know how she feels about that, really. )
I told you my home was at war. We wanted to help, and this felt like the only way we wouldn't have been powerless to do anything about it. ( it's not a choice she is particularly proud of, as she had been the one who was against it initially. pietro had been more enthused. ) We did it because we wanted to.
( for the most part. and if there's something wanda would never do, is to take a step back and act like she isn't accountable for her actions. she glances up at him, meets his eyes. )
Why ( wanda stops to consider asking the following, uncertain if he'll question how she knows, but it might just be something he considers is easy to read, ) are you angry?
[ His reassurance comes almost immediately with no hesitation. ]
And I'm not going anywhere.
[ That much feels like it doesn't need to be said. But then again, maybe it does. Because after something like that maybe she does need the reassurance more than he thinks she might.
Her abridged version still gleans more details than he knows he should be privy to or perhaps allowed. And it makes him wonder, briefly, if he and Kerri had been put in similar positions, would they have agreed to that too? If there were a procedure, an experiment, that would make it easier for them to fight against the Empire, would they have done what Wanda and her brother had done?
Would he have agreed to let Kerri do such a thing?
When Wanda poses her question, he catches on quickly enough. And it provides a prompt for him to consider the emotion that had welled up in his chest. Perhaps the anger isn't so much that as it is...protectiveness. He shakes his head. ]
Experiment makes it sound like you were both treated less than. You - [ He can't dull the sharpness of his tone on the offset, but he manages to wrangle it back. Or ties to anyway. ] it couldn't have been easy. [ Painless, he means. ] For either of you.
( the light overhead buzzes with a sudden burst of electricity, usually a tell-tale sign that the generators keeping the neighborhood alight might give and leave them in darkness for a while. blackouts are, after all, not uncommon. it might result in no such thing, though. it's in that lapse of time, of uncertainty, that wanda leans forward on the bed and reaches for one of his hands.
he's — not going anywhere, and something swells, inside her. a comfort she hadn't felt in a long time. )
I don't think my life was ever important.
( anchoring herself to him, she says as much, silently. it is the truth though, despite how depressing otherwise this statement does sound. when her parents were killed, her life just felt like an abyss she hasn't been able to climb out of, and especially now with losing pietro— she had hoped to find a sense of purpose with the avengers, but, in all, it didn't make her feel any better.
that being said, her brother, )
He was killed.
( and now, she's alone.
her hands tighten around his. )
I just — want to belong. ( and with belonging comes being able to be useful to others, to him; to be open about her powers, using them to help. ) I want to help.
[ The news of her brother hits closer to home than he anticipates it would. Hearing about the loss of a sibling would always do that to him, hurt nestling like a splinter in his heart. No matter how much he tried to harden his heart to the world and let go of something that everyone told him was not his fault, there was no amount of atonement that would make him believe that.
That Wanda has had to walk through life for however long without her brother is something he can empathize with, at least to a certain degree. With Kerri, he at least wants to believe that she's somewhere out in the galaxy. He hopes. Because the alternative is this.
The devastation and pain that still haunts her, the admission that she has never thought her life important, roots him to the core. When the lights flicker he doesn't move, and all but erases the instinct for him to pull away when she reaches for his hand. And when it tightens around his, he grips back.
There's so much more he wants to say. He wants to fiercely tell her that her life is important; and if she wouldn't take the word of a guy she's only known a month or so here then she should think about what her brother would say. Instead he swallows, voice softening. ]
You made sure I ate. You're staying here to make sure that my hitchhiker doesn't return. All of that sounds like you're helping me.
( he may really just be a guy she's only known for a month, and she may have come here to help him instead of finding some solace for herself, but— cassian doesn't draw his hand back, only holds tighter onto her own. every small thing that he thinks about and doesn't say, it pulses stronger into her telepathic net, and wanda doesn't 'hear' it in her mind so much as she feels it.
an unwavering warmth, a fierce urge of protectiveness bolstered by deep understanding.
(it feels wonderful to connect like this. to not be left on her own ocean of grief, running out of air and sinking.)
with a sniffle, wanda brings her other hand up to rub at her eyes, the overwhelming sensation drawing tears to her eyes. here, now, she presents as vulnerable and open to cassian; a guy she's only known a month or so, but someone whom she would like to consider a friend, if he'd let her. someone worth trusting, at least. )
...my brother's name was Pietro. I'd — like for him to be remembered, by others, sometimes.
( she says, softly. and because it's true—that she is helping, and he is letting her, she adds, )
[ Cassian doesn't have powers like Wanda does. He can't feel the way others feel - good or bad. But he understands that concept. Of a person who is simply there, telling you that they'll stay no matter. The act of that is a balm and has been a balm for him more times than he'd like to admit. Especially as the days have stretched on for him the more he does for the rebellion and for Luthen and the more blood that begins to stain his hands.
Even as she begins to cry he stays there, resolute. The name of her brother - her twin - hangs in the air between like a phantom presence. A ghost that she carries with her now and always. It's something he understands. This sentiment of a loved one being remembered by others that they trust.
No one he knows has ever met Kerri. The thought of her memory, her existence, snuffing out should something, when something, happens to him is makes his heart clench. ]
I'll remember him.
[ As for the quiet resignation, well. His lips quirk slightly at that. ]
( with their hands together, intertwined, wanda feels reluctant to let go, of putting back some distance between them. she can feel the plastic of his pinky against her hand, but that's okay. maybe he won't feel it, and it'll make him forget of his current plight of turning plastic.
though she agrees that she'll stay until he finishes his dinner, wanda stays for longer, a few more hours, keeping him company, reading the magazines that he has in a corner of the room, making herself at home on his bed—all the while he putters away with C4T, works on his own little projects; until sleep threatens to close her eyes does she get up, putting her boots back on, and promising him that she's a call away.
this company—it was definitely something she needed, quiet and subtle. hopefully it did him good, too, even if they hadn't run into either of their mannequins. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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she gets to cutting at some of the produce—the lettuce, the tomatoes. )
I want to be here right now.
( her answer is easy and straightforward, even if it marks at something perhaps a little heavier. wanda wants to be here, with him.
and she adds, perhaps with no real authority on the matter: )
Don't worry. We'll figure this out together.
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Mostly it stems from a place of distrust. He's got his guard up by nature because that's how he's protected himself and those around him. Kindness could be a tool. A facade to hide ulterior motives. Bix tells him ti's paranoia. But if someone isn't on edge between the four of them - of Bix, Brasso, Wilmon (five if you count Bee, which he always did) then who will?
So it's no surprise at all that he all but stares as Wanda takes it upon herself to care for him though he hadn't asked and is convinced he doesn't need. There's a brief pause before he speaks up again, faint, wry albeit tired humor in his voice. ]
Will you take care of my plastic body if I turn into a mannequin?
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( she looks back, making a face at him, which then slips into a bit of a smile/neutral expression once she returns to preparing him a sandwich. she's starting to learn how his sense of humor works, so it's not like she finds it annoying so much as she's a little worried for him.
though it's good that he can throw some humor in the situation, despite the general sense of anxiety she is getting from him.
quietly, she finishes up putting together the sandwich, grabs one of the disposable plates, and brings it up to him alongside a bottle of water he kept inside the fridge. once he takes it, she toes off her shoes and climbs up his bed, casual and comfortable: legs outstretched, leaning her weight back on her hands. )
If we wait long enough, it might show up again. ( the thieving mannequin ) I can hold it down for you.
( maybe this is her preparing herself to spill the beans about her powers, should he seem receptive enough to it. she'll gauge his reactions from now until then. )
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It's a serious question.
[ A part of him had always possessed some level of dry sometimes morbid sense of humour. It was easier to cope with the situations that he found himself in which was becoming more and more frequent as the years went by as he became more entrenched in the rebellion.
Quietly he accepts the prepared sandwich and drink with a flicker of a smile before beginning to eat. Or at least attempts to. Sure it's just a sandwich but she had still gone out of her way and he's never been one to snub that sort of kindness whether he's comfortable with it or not.
And though Wanda doesn't entertain his "stupid question" when she offers to hold his hitchhiker down he glances up, cockig an eyebrow slightly. ]
You sound like you almost want it to happen.
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wanda shifts at his answer to her statement, sitting up and bringing her legs to curl to the side, leaning in a little, while some space still remains between them. )
I don't want it to happen, but it's probably inevitable.
( listen here... )
I'm offering my help. ( and, ) Take a bite.
( of the sandwich. )
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Are you always prepared for the worst?
[ There isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone. Rather, there's almost an air of acknowledgement, of like seeing like, amongst the joking air because as they both know, this place is never short of chaos. Some people might call it being pessimistic or so on edge that they can't relax - but Cassian had been caught off guard one too many times in his life by now to not at least have some sort of awareness of consequences or actions that followed something he did. ]
Or is there something else you aren't telling me? [ Now is when his tone lightens, all jest, as he finally take a bite. ] Like a past where you fought mannequins that came to life?
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he takes a bite, and it makes her feel all the much better, that she's able to care for someone, do something good with these awful hands of hers. )
I never fought any mannequins that came to life before.
( she did fight droids; however, there is several things about her that she isn't telling him.
her heart beats like a metronome, steady and fast, and wanda doesn't remember a tightness like this in her chest in so long a time. is she afraid? worried? one of her hands curl into a fist, grabbing at some of the blanket. )
I — want to tell you something, but I don't want you to hate me for it.
( for keeping it a secret, for lying by omission. granted, hate is a strong word. she scrunches her nose, upon hearing herself, and shifts back, curled fist unfurling. )
You can't act weird about it.
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A part of him is tempted to say that now that she's told him that it will be incredibly difficult not to - but with how seriously she's framing this, he chooses the smarter decision for once to not say anything that could come off as remotely joking or playful. For some reason he gets the impression that that would only result in her backtracking or pretending that she had never said anything at all.
So instead he stills, lowering the sandwich to the plate once again. ]
It would take a lot for me to hate someone.
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even if she can only control her fear, she wants to, badly, be liked, accepted. finding her place in this new city hasn't been without difficulty, but to just be wanda, a normal human, feels nice, even if just for a while.
so, wanting to trust that this bond she has with cassian is strong and not just ephemeral—his answer and how he's responded with his body language clueing wanda into the fact that he's taking this seriously—she admits in what feels like one beat of her heart, )
I can move things with my mind. ( —and a breath— ) I can feel when these things are nearby if I tried.
( in trying to temper her expectations of his reaction to this, her hands return to holding tightly—the sheet, the fabric of her skirt. she's still nervous about it, despite herself.
(it means a lot to her, however cassian should react.) )
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Though perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. People drawn and dropped here all seem to come from worlds where extraordinary powers were as common as spaceships were in his. All the same, what Wanda describes...doesn't sound so dissimilar to that of how people might speak of the Force.
And his thoughts on the Force, well. To put it bluntly he doesn't believe in it. "Force healers", as some liked to fashion themselves, claimed to be able to help quicken healing or rid someone of aliments altogether but more often than not Cassian had seen it more of a scam than anything else. One of many tricks to try and swindle some credits out of someone desperate for any option to save them.
Were this anyone else he might have dismissed it or reacted in some form of disbelief. But it's Wanda. And he knows, without a shadow of doubt that she isn't lying to him. ]
What do you mean feel things nearby? People? [ His thoughts linger to his mannequin that is still nowhere to be seen. ] Creatures?
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there's relief in it being questions, but she would be foolish to think that she isn't in the hot seat still.
funny, she created this situation for herself.
she swallows, then licks at her bottom lip, thinking for a moment, before casting her gaze down to her lap. )
Everything.
( the word is quiet, mumbled so low it hardly had any air in its syllables. still, because his reaction isn't reactionary, she elaborates with a little more confidence. )
I told you this place is loud. Beyond the noise of the city, it's just — so crowded, and everyone thinks and feels so much— ( it's not something she does intentionally, and yet it feels like a fault of her own. ) These hitchhikers feel different. They feel empty, so if I focus...
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He doesn't expect his question to bring with it some sort of clarity for him as well however. Their first conversation out on the balcony suddenly makes far more sense in hindsight. And at the mention of thoughts and feelings he stills, a long learned impulse to school expression and feelings rising to the surface.
But after a moment he relaxes, reminding himself that there's no reason for him to keep his guard as far up as he does normally. ]
At least they have that going for them.
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out what to say next. How to react next - and instead he ends up filling the silence with a bite of his sandwich. Silence has never been an uncomfortable hing for him. And in this instance it helps him decide what he wants to ask next and how exactly to ask it without coming across as offensive. ]
...Did you always have these powers?
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though he relaxes shortly after, it makes her wish she hadn't said anything.
(it was easier with pietro. he just accepted her, did his best on his own terms to avoid thinking certain things 'too loudly', made an effort when everything was so loud to be the loudest mind she would 'listen' to. he wasn't scared, didn't guard himself against her.
she misses that connection so miserably much.)
there's a quietness to her now, a stillness to her movements, for the silence makes her feel uncomfortable instead. it's nothing that cassian's done nor said, neither is it what he asks next. she's just not as comfortable in her skin about this, and it wears her down how scared she has been of telling others this truth about herself.
her answer is a short shake of her head, voice quiet, knuckles straining with rigidity as she holds herself in place. )
Five years ago or so... My brother and I were subjects of experiments. We survived them, so — it was meant to mean something.
( and her words are measured, too, like she's being overly careful of what she's saying and how she says it. )
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There's a new set of rules to learn and understand. There's other worlds, new people to learn and understand. And though he rationally understands this, he can't ignore the prickle of guilt and shame that rears its head.]
Experiments?
[ The disbelief in his voice has nothing to do with not believing her. It's simply a precursor for the roiling anger that could be. An anger aimed at injustices against innocents in the galaxy that has always existed in the pit of his stomach since he was six years old. The line of his jaw hardens. ]
...Did they force you to do things? To fight for something?
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there's anger there, solid, and a comforting emotion, despite herself. )
It's a long story.
( is what she manages as an initial explanation, wanting to try and keep the anger that he's showing at bay; it's not his fight to fight, and it's not the type of situation that he deserves to be angry about. wanda — doesn't know how she feels about that, really. )
I told you my home was at war. We wanted to help, and this felt like the only way we wouldn't have been powerless to do anything about it. ( it's not a choice she is particularly proud of, as she had been the one who was against it initially. pietro had been more enthused. ) We did it because we wanted to.
( for the most part. and if there's something wanda would never do, is to take a step back and act like she isn't accountable for her actions. she glances up at him, meets his eyes. )
Why ( wanda stops to consider asking the following, uncertain if he'll question how she knows, but it might just be something he considers is easy to read, ) are you angry?
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And I'm not going anywhere.
[ That much feels like it doesn't need to be said. But then again, maybe it does. Because after something like that maybe she does need the reassurance more than he thinks she might.
Her abridged version still gleans more details than he knows he should be privy to or perhaps allowed. And it makes him wonder, briefly, if he and Kerri had been put in similar positions, would they have agreed to that too? If there were a procedure, an experiment, that would make it easier for them to fight against the Empire, would they have done what Wanda and her brother had done?
Would he have agreed to let Kerri do such a thing?
When Wanda poses her question, he catches on quickly enough. And it provides a prompt for him to consider the emotion that had welled up in his chest. Perhaps the anger isn't so much that as it is...protectiveness. He shakes his head. ]
Experiment makes it sound like you were both treated less than. You - [ He can't dull the sharpness of his tone on the offset, but he manages to wrangle it back. Or ties to anyway. ] it couldn't have been easy. [ Painless, he means. ] For either of you.
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he's — not going anywhere, and something swells, inside her. a comfort she hadn't felt in a long time. )
I don't think my life was ever important.
( anchoring herself to him, she says as much, silently. it is the truth though, despite how depressing otherwise this statement does sound. when her parents were killed, her life just felt like an abyss she hasn't been able to climb out of, and especially now with losing pietro— she had hoped to find a sense of purpose with the avengers, but, in all, it didn't make her feel any better.
that being said, her brother, )
He was killed.
( and now, she's alone.
her hands tighten around his. )
I just — want to belong. ( and with belonging comes being able to be useful to others, to him; to be open about her powers, using them to help. ) I want to help.
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That Wanda has had to walk through life for however long without her brother is something he can empathize with, at least to a certain degree.
With Kerri, he at least wants to believe that she's somewhere out in the galaxy. He hopes. Because the alternative is this.
The devastation and pain that still haunts her, the admission that she has never thought her life important, roots him to the core. When the lights flicker he doesn't move, and all but erases the instinct for him to pull away when she reaches for his hand. And when it tightens around his, he grips back.
There's so much more he wants to say. He wants to fiercely tell her that her life is important; and if she wouldn't take the word of a guy she's only known a month or so here then she should think about what her brother would say. Instead he swallows, voice softening. ]
You made sure I ate. You're staying here to make sure that my hitchhiker doesn't return. All of that sounds like you're helping me.
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an unwavering warmth, a fierce urge of protectiveness bolstered by deep understanding.
(it feels wonderful to connect like this. to not be left on her own ocean of grief, running out of air and sinking.)
with a sniffle, wanda brings her other hand up to rub at her eyes, the overwhelming sensation drawing tears to her eyes. here, now, she presents as vulnerable and open to cassian; a guy she's only known a month or so, but someone whom she would like to consider a friend, if he'd let her. someone worth trusting, at least. )
...my brother's name was Pietro. I'd — like for him to be remembered, by others, sometimes.
( she says, softly. and because it's true—that she is helping, and he is letting her, she adds, )
Okay. I can stay with you for a bit longer.
( maybe she, too, needs the company. )
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Even as she begins to cry he stays there, resolute. The name of her brother - her twin - hangs in the air between like a phantom presence. A ghost that she carries with her now and always. It's something he understands. This sentiment of a loved one being remembered by others that they trust.
No one he knows has ever met Kerri. The thought of her memory, her existence, snuffing out should something, when something, happens to him is makes his heart clench. ]
I'll remember him.
[ As for the quiet resignation, well. His lips quirk slightly at that. ]
Until I finish my dinner, right?
🎀 !!
though she agrees that she'll stay until he finishes his dinner, wanda stays for longer, a few more hours, keeping him company, reading the magazines that he has in a corner of the room, making herself at home on his bed—all the while he putters away with C4T, works on his own little projects; until sleep threatens to close her eyes does she get up, putting her boots back on, and promising him that she's a call away.
this company—it was definitely something she needed, quiet and subtle. hopefully it did him good, too, even if they hadn't run into either of their mannequins. )