Wanda and North (backdated to 8/14)

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

North has been in a coma ever since they brought him back to the mansion. Wanda happens to be there when he finally wakes up.


The MedLab was, for the most part, peaceful at the moment. The most recent emergency had been dealt with as best as they had been able to do it and everyone had settled into some sort of rhythm. There had been a steady stream of visitors to see North, most of the group from Germany stopping in after resting for their turn at watching over him. It was late - or early, Wanda couldn't tell - and everyone was smartly in bed but she was having trouble sleeping.


The horror of what they'd done to David combined with the precipice Wanda had found herself in powers wise when they had found him (one string of chaos off and she could have killed him) had combined into a nasty case of insomnia.


So she'd gathered a large stack of reading material and had worked her way down to where he was still unconscious. But the silence had been too much, so she'd started to read the magazines to him. Wanda couldn't help but smile - reading German trash magazines seemed fitting.


She had been there a while – right in the middle of a celebrity break-up article – when his lashes fluttered, and lids that felt like they had been crusted over for an age parted a fraction of an inch to reveal a sliver of blue-grey before they slammed shut again. The hoarse groan that scratched its way out of his throat was clearly involuntary, as the man winced not a second later and half-scowled through a whimper. It would have been funny, him not quite knowing what to do with his face, except that it was also kind of pathetic-looking.


The magazine hit the floor and Wanda used all of her restraint to prevent herself from launching herself at the bed. She reached it quickly enough and gently, both to prevent pain and to prevent potential lashing out if David was uncertain as to where he was or who she was, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, hey," she said, mentally reaching out to Jean to let her know their patient was finally starting wake up. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, take it easy.


Her words were teasing but Wanda had to blink back a sudden sting of tears. He'd been in a coma for a month and after losing Simon, she'd been flooded with doubt that he'd ever wake up.


Brows still creased in a heavy frown, David fought to pry his lids apart and his arms from under the hospital blanket tucked too tightly around him. He succeeded with his right, but only barely, given that it felt like they had strapped barbells to his limbs. His arm flopped heavily to his side as he gave up, and Wanda's face finally swam into view. The warm hand on his shoulder sent a shiver up his neck, reassuring enough that he made no further attempts to free himself. Definitely not the worst sight to wake up to, his foggy brain supplied. Only it came out more as an unintelligible hoarse croak.


"Once I know you won't drown, I can get you some water," she reassured him, making a mental note when Jean reached back to let her know she was on her way. But Jean wasn't in the Medlab so Wanda was on her own for the time being. The struggle with the blankets had been impossible to miss. Releasing his shoulder briefly, she loosened the material around him to make him more comfortable. Wanda also took a small moment while doing so to wipe at her eyes. "~Welcome back, stupid man~," she breathed in German as she turned back.


There was no attempt at a verbal reply from him this time, but her colleague glanced up at her from where he had been side-eyeing the IV in his (decidedly unfamiliar) arm with an expressive mix of plaintive confusion and helplessness on his face. An ice cube and an explanation would be nice. But he settled for averting his gaze from her damp eyes and kicking at the blanket to get it off, because something was obviously up and his instincts were screaming at him to escape the confinement and his brain was in no shape to temper the rising panic.


There was a moment where Wanda disappeared, when he was fighting with the covers again, but she was back within a moment, a cup of ice in her hand. She looked at him consideringly and realized that his limbs were next to useless. Wanda pressed the button on the side of the bed and raised David up to a semi-sitting position. She held the cup of ice to his mouth and helped him take a few pieces. "Ice first, then water. Then I would recommend alcohol but the doctors might not."


He gratefully accepted a piece of ice on his tongue, and the cool water was like balm to his abused throat as he crunched his way through it, opening his mouth for another soon after. As he sat in his slouched semi-upright position, David studied his pajama-clad legs from his lap to the bare toes with as much focus as he could muster. Or at least he presumed that the legs were his. They looked... bigger. Foreign. "~What happened~?" He whisper-asked around the third sliver of ice, pulling a hand through what felt like a vat of honey to lie palm up against his thigh.


This was going to take some explaining. Wanda pulled up her abandoned chair and sat heavily, holding onto the cup of ice. Over the next few minutes, she detailed exactly what she knew. His disappearance, their trip to Germany and what they eventually found there. "We were barely able to stabilize you in the field with the emergency transfusion and then Clarice teleported us back to the Medlab. You have been unconscious for a month now, David."


She realized she'd been gripping the cup tightly and forced herself to relax, to give him another piece of ice before continuing. "Honestly, I am not the person to ask for the technical or medical portion of this. But what they were doing to you - physically, there have been a lot of changes."


"I can... see that." The frown was heavy between his brows, and he tilted his head back to lean it against the mattress as he considered her tale, blinking away a piece of fringe that fell against his lashes. Was his hair black? He could feel his energy returning, one painstaking drip at a time, but could not muster enough energy to check. "I was pulled off the streets," he recalled abruptly. And was that not the most embarrassing thing ever?


"Does it help to know that we managed to kill or take out most of them in getting to you?" Wanda asked with a tight smile. It wasn't hard to remember how close to death he had been and the terror she'd felt when her powers told her in no uncertain terms that if she had disturbed anything, she could have tipped those scales. "And it happens to the best of us. Well, not me of course but I hear it happens."


David barked a hoarse laugh, because there was no other appropriate reaction to it. "Thank you for saving me the trouble of having to do it myself." For now, at least. There was little doubt in his mind that there were more of them out there. Still, there was little he could do from his hospital bed.


The spy studied Wanda for a moment, then quirked a more genuine smile. If one squinted, there may have been some hints of affection to be found. "I am fine now, ja?"


Tilting her head, she studied him a moment and then nodded with a small smile. "The brilliant minds that are our doctors seem to believe so and I have spent enough time in this chair to notice no more, ah, changes. Jean or Cecilia can confirm." At that, she leaned back in her chair and gave him a look with arched eyebrows. "So, already planning on how and where to lie low for a while?"


"It is not a good thing that I am so predictable," he sighed, tilting his head back to rest against the pillow. But were Wanda in his place, he had no doubt she would endeavour to spend as little time as possible within the bland walls of the hospital too. "I would prefer somewhere warm, this time."


"Someplace warm? Well, I fully expect you to come back bearing me delightful gifts, like rum and hilarious hats. Please do not make me chase you down again. I do not relish kicking down more doors just for a hilarious hat." Wanda understood - she'd ducked out the door on several occasions when things became too hard to handle here. But beneath her words were a request and they weren't really for hats and booze.


She wanted to know he would be back, eventually.


And that he'd be bringing with him her hats and booze. Wanda really did love her kitsch.


"How about a deal?" He asked, peering at her with knowing eyes through hooded lids. David made a vague hand motion that he gave up on mid-way through. "Rum and ridiculous headgear in return for you making sure nothing is going bad in my fridge. Jubilation may have cleaned it out by now, but one never knows."


Wanda grinned and patted the hand that had flopped back down on the bed. "Never fear, I will wage war on your fridge but that better be one hell of a hat."