"They're getting worse."

"The nightmares?"

"I don't know what to do. I barely get any sleep."

Sam Wilson regarded the girl from across the small table, his expression unreadable. But in his mind a hundred thoughts, mostly of the I don't know if I can handle this variety, were boiling around and making him antsy.

She shouldn't see that, though. Wanda Maximoff was in a delicate state since the death of her brother, and as the Avenger most experienced with giving psychological support, he had to be strong and focused for both of them. Even if the Avengers had taken the girl in, given her a home, her experiences were following her around like a dark storm cloud. As grief, depression, PTSD and regret are wont to do.

ENow, PTSD Sam could help deal with; countless VA support meetings that had ended in smiles and tears (the hopeful kind) proved that. But this kind of grief? The kind that seemed to gnaw at the kid from inside, stopped her from eating, messed up her sleeping patterns and made her powers erratic? As Sam faced her sitting across from him, her face pale and drawn and head bowed, he had to conclude he'd never seen anything like it.

It was like she'd lost a lung. Or a kidney. Or her heart.

Sam tried again. "Will it help if you told me what the nightmares are about?"

Wanda looked up. "They are all about the same things. Bombs falling. My parents, my brother." She swallowed. "Sometimes they're about Hydra. Needles in me, under my skin. The scientists who experimented on us."

The fluorescent lights above them flickered and buzzed slightly. Sam looked up, then back at Wanda. "Go on."

She didn't take her eyes off the table surface. "It's hard to explain. The dreams end just as they're holding the scepter to me, or as the bomb lands in front of us, or as Pietro gets-" Wanda's voice broke. "And it is always the fear that builds up before the bad thing happens. That makes me unable to breathe so that I have to wake up. It hurts." She pulled her green jacket over her chest.

The lights were kind of going crazy now, and Sam had to really pull himself together to get them through this. She's doing this. They're reacting to her powers. Keep it together, Sam. Calm her down. "Okay, if it hurts, then remember the breathing exercises I showed you. That doesn't help, you can come down to my suite and I'll be there to help you through it, whatever you need." He tried to meet her eyes, "we'll always be here for you, kid."

She shook her head. "I should just...go away."

"Where do you- where do you want to go?"

Wanda shrugged. "Nowhere. Everywhere. I want to vanish, not exist."

"Wanda..." Sam's heart was near goddamn breaking.

"I really do."

"Look at me," said Sam. "Steve told me you managed to take out Ultron and help people even after you knew your brother was killed. You were strong then, you can be strong a little every day now." She looked up at him, and he sensed a breakthrough. Almost. "And I know you were strong after you lost your parents, after Hydra experimented on you."

"Yes." The vacant stare was back in her eyes. "But all that time, I had my brother." Wanda's lip began to tremble. "He was always there. We had each other, no matter what..." Her face went blank.

Oh, shit. Wrong move, Wilson.

"God," whimpered Wanda, and underneath Sam's hands the table, the chairs, started to shake. "He was all I had- all I had left- God, I don't know what to do now-"

"Wanda-"

"I couldn't protect him!" The words tore their way out of her throat, raw and painful. Sam winced as a potted plant on a shelf toppled and fell. The lights fluctuated like mad and the windows rattled. Wanda gripped the edge of the table hard, as if trying to stay in control, but tears were streaming down her face in rivulets of mascara.

"Wanda, please, it's okay, stay with me-"

"Y-you can't help me- he was the only one who ever could..."

Sam stood, reaching for her wrists as if to ground her, to comfort her. "You'll be okay." When she looked up at him, there was red light flaring in her eyes.

"How can you say that?" She cried. "How can you know? I will never be okay again-" Crimson magic started to gather and spark under her finger tips. "I want him back!"

The burst of energy she emitted at that point was inconceivable. Sam was thrown backward by the force, and from where he lay flat on his back, he could see the room shift and waver in red light until the air itself started to shimmer-

It was like what he was seeing, whatever he perceived as real in that moment, was being twisted somehow, and at any moment, at a flick of this girl's wrist or a simple word, everything was going to fall apart or change...

Wanda was in the epicenter of it all, surrounded by red magic, staring up at the phenomenon with a mixture of horror and fascination and I did this? and please, make it stop-

"Wanda!" Sam called, and like a flame suddenly being blown out it ended. The red magic dissipated. The lights went back to normal. The energy that had filled the room with heat and power was gone.

Wanda slumped over the table, groaning.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, when Sam stood up and came over to her. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean it-"

She held her arms in front of her face like he was going to hurt her for messing up, but Sam just wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

"That wasn't your fault," he said, breathing heavily. "I think we're done for today."

Well, I'm back after an ungodly hiatus, haha :) I've had this idea in my head for a while and decided to write it at last, what with Age of Apocalypse coming up and all. It's gonna be pretty long and rambling, so I hope you stick with me!