Prompt #1

From Tumblr: "Natasha and steve "act like" they are wanda's parents on those 2 years before infinity war.. because there is not enough fanfic with these trio.."

Notes: For the purpose of this story, let's just say Wanda is on the young side.

Wanda sat with her legs crossed on the dining chair, head slightly bowed as she focused on her muddy boots. If she learned anything from living with Natasha and Steve-aka Black Widow and Captain America aka her legal guardians until she turns 21-it was keeping her mouth shut and nodding along to everything they tell her. The past year hasn't been easy for everyone; everyone had people they miss and everyone was worried about where the next meal was going to come from, given their current "fugitive" status, and Wanda totally understood where she went wrong, and thought she deserved some kind of punishment. But she deserved some kind of understanding too!

"What were you thinking!" Natasha yelled, her voice raspy and tired as she resigned on the creaky bar stool.

She opened her mouth to say something, only to be cut short by Steve.

"No, no...you do not get to talk your way out of this, Wanda." Natasha added, and Wanda could swear her red locks were flaming, if that was possible at all.

"No, no. I think she needs to tell us what the freaking hell she was thinking, Natasha." Steve urged her on. Dear Lord, was he scary like this. That was the moment Wanda realized she would never want to be in Steve Roger's bad graces. Or Natasha's. Especially Natasha's. "Start from the beginning. Don't leave anything out."

Steve sighed and stepped a little into the light. He reminded Wanda of her eighty-year old neighbor who often looked after her and Pietro when they were kids, and how disappointed the poor woman looked when she tried tossing her brother's pet guinea pig outside the window. In more ways than one he was like Wanda's father too, well, at least with what little memory she had of the man. She remembered him being a large man, probably as tall as Pietro by the time they were grown, and he had a nice laugh, and made really delicious soup. Probably a good doting dad, if he hadn't disappeared when they were little. They were six when he was drafted into the army.

Wanda swallowed a lump in her throat and cleared her voice. "I know...it's not an excuse. I know the rules, and how much danger we're in now that we're running from...well, everyone…"

Natasha shifted on her seat, wincing slightly. She probably didn't think anyone would notice, but Wanda saw her favoring her right leg and hissing quietly everytime she took a deep breath. She can bet there were black and blue bruises underneath her armor, and Wanda blamed herself for that.

In a strange way, Natasha did remind Wanda of her mother. Wanda looked up to her mother when she was little. She had red hair too, and her cheeks a map of freckles, strong and feisty for a skinny woman. She was around longer than their dad, tough, and raised hell with her temper. Growing up probably would be a lot easier if their mom were around; no rallies and protests in the streets maybe? And definitely no experiments. Pietro would still be around.

"...but I couldn't help but worry about Vis."

Steve and Natasha exchanged glances.

Natasha exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"He's still at the facility…" Wanda continued, "And maybe he's okay, maybe he's safe watching documentaries about modern technology and maybe Stark's got it all under control, but maybe he's lonely. Even before all this, Vis and I we…" she sighed, "...we had each other. You might be thinking that I'm crazy, that he's just a superbot who can't possible feel all the things I'm feeling but you may be wrong. He's more than that. He's my friend."

"Wanda…" Steve stepped closer.

"I know it was stupid trying to break into the facility alone…"

"You bet it was." Natasha said in a low whisper, but her tone told Wanda she wasn't angry anymore. "Come on. It's late, just...get out of here."

Wanda nodded apologetically as she got up from the chair and smiled a little when Steve ruffled her hair on her way to the bedroom.

"I didn't sign up for this." Natasha shook her head and leaned against the kitchen counter, the peeling paint sticking on her skin. "This is like...this is like…"

"Motherhood?" Steve smirked, amused.

"Nothing I'm trained for. Nothing we're ever trained for."

"I know." He nodded, taking a step towards her, gently pulling her into his arms. They both had a long day. They deserved this. "But what do they say...practice makes perfect, right?"