Symptoms of Loss
Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Timeline: Post-Avengers: Endgame
Character(s): Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes
Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader (platonic(?))
Warning(s): swearing, graphic depictions of mental illness (depression), briefly implied self-harm (minor), not Post-Avengers: Endgame compliant (especially not WandaVision compliant lol)
Request: Hi, I’m a big fan. Could you do a Wanda maximoff x male reader who has depression, but who doesn’t tell anybody. I’d like it to be post endgame.
A/n: heyyyyyy….. feeling the need to apologize a lot for taking a lifetime with this request. my hyperfixations are hella sporadic. anyway, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but i hope you enjoy this little one shot anyway. sidenote, not sure if it’s accurate but google says wanda was like 20 during infinity war and endgame (prior to wandavision airing) so that’s how old im portraying here. also, i realize you didn’t specify if you wanted this to be romantic or platonic so i hope i wrote it well enough to be seen as whichever the reader prefers. anyway, i really like writing stuff for you guys (even if it takes me a lifetime to get the stories out lol). till next time :)
The buzzing snaps you out of your heavy sleep. You don’t know how much longer you keep laying around in bed, cocooned in the covers, before you finally push yourself until you’re propped up on your elbows. You blindly search for your phone, having no idea where it ended up after you fell asleep while watching random youtube videos.
You look around your room while your hands blindly search, wondering if it fell out of bed at some point. Although, there’s likely no room for it to have done so. Your room has grown excessively messy throughout the past few weeks. You’ve been meaning to clean, of course, but you just end up blowing it off at the end of each day.
The floor is overrun with clothes and shoes miscellaneously strewn everywhere they can reach. The pillows you don’t use sit haphazardly at the end of your bed and there are even a few old half empty mugs on your bedside table, mugs that you haven’t felt like getting up and setting in the sink to be washed.
You finally grab your phone under the covers, near your legs. You first notice that it’s just past noon, which is a lot earlier than you’ve normally been waking up at. Wanda’s text is the next thing you notice.
It’s not weird that you’re getting a text from Wanda, in its own right, seeing as you have a very good friendship going that dates all the way back to the aftermath of Ultron. You and Wanda were the closest in age, at the time, so it was only natural that you congregated towards each other. Things were awkward in the beginning given that Wanda had been juggling the grieving process from losing her twin brother as well as trying to find even footing as the newest member of the Avengers. But, you and Wanda eventually were able to grow close.
So, no, it’s not weird that you’re getting a text from Wanda. It’s just a little unexpected. You haven’t talked to Wanda in a while. Actually, you haven’t talked to anyone in a while.
Wanda [12:04 PM]: heyyy n/n wanna go out to lunch?
You sigh, really not wanting to go out anywhere with anyone. You’re almost tempted to leave Wanda on read, but you decide against it due to the smallest amount of guilt that manages to claw its way into your chest. Plus, Wanda would spam you for at least a few hours or until you answered if you didn’t reply within five (5) minutes.
You [12:08 PM]: idk
Wanda [12:08 PM]: come on, sam and bucky are coming
You wonder if Wanda meant that to be persuading in a positive way when actually that just makes you not want to go even more. You are so not in the mood to deal with people.
Wanda [12:09 PM]: you should come, we haven’t hung out in a while
You [12:10 PM]: wanda i really dont know
Wanda [12:10 PM]: just lunch pls you don't even have to get dressed up
Wanda continues on before you can even flat out say no.
Wanda [12:10 PM]: im picking you up in 15 minutes
Clicking your tongue, you don’t even have the energy to try and get out of going now. You drop your phone next to you before flopping back onto the bed yourself.
Wanda is knocking on your apartment door eventually, giving you barely enough time to get ready. You shuffle through your apartment to open the door for her, gesturing for her to enter without even a simple hello on your part. “I just need to get my shoes on,” you tell her, grabbing the pair that was sitting next to the door.
Wanda hums in acknowledgement. “Sam and Bucky went ahead to get a table for us.”
You nod back as you slip your shoes on sloppily, not even bothering to tie them. Standing up straight, you tell Wanda, “Ready to go.”
Wanda steps up next to you, smiling brightly while taking your hand in hers. “Let’s go then.”
The diner is close to your apartment so you and Wanda decide to just walk, leaving Wanda’s car in the parking lot so she can drive home later.
There's a soft, cool wind blowing as you walk the streets to the diner, something that actually feels refreshing and different from the usual stale air you’ve been surrounded by in your apartment.
Through the diner’s windows, you spot Sam and Bucky sitting at a table as you walk across the street. The air is just as cool inside as it is outside, you note, as you follow Wanda into the restaurant. There's also the aroma of freshly made food and coffee that stick to the air. The delicious smells would’ve normally made your stomach growl, but it seems you’re not phased by it anymore despite you having no clue as to when your last meal was.
Sam and Bucky greet you and Wanda when you take your seats across from them. Wanda greets back with a simple ‘hey’ while you smile at them awkwardly just as the waiter appears out of nowhere. The waiter drops off two more menus before she asks you and Wanda about drinks.
“Strawberry lemonade,” Wanda says before she and the waiter look at you expectantly. You mutter an order of plain water, looking at the menu, mostly out of obligation rather than any actual desire for food.
You keep track of the two pairs of eyes trained on your slumped form all while not bothering to mention it. You choose to let the two people the eyes are attached to make the first move while you continue to repeatedly flip through the menu, the menu you haven’t actually read a single word of.
Eventually, Sam is the one to break the silence. “Well, you’re quiet, Y/N,” Sam wonders as playfully as he can muster. “Why is that?”
Sam’s observation causes irritation to grow in your chest for some reason that you can’t actually pin down. For that, you’re not able to stop yourself from snapping. “I’m tired,” you say, simple and curt and holding a level of bite to them.
Sam… doesn’t react the way you expected him to as soon as the words were out of your mouth. Sam did not react at all, in fact. He doesn’t even smile in the way that means he’s brushing off your attitude. All he does is hum and then change the subject. “So, what is everyone ordering?”
It takes a few seconds for your mind to fully process the question. It seems as if no one else at the table had the same problem, however, because Bucky is answering easily. “I was thinking of getting a cheeseburger.”
Sam scoffs, side-smirk and all. “Copycat,” he mutters, Bucky rolling his eyes in response.
You interrupt quickly, before Sam and Bucky could really get into quipping with each other. “I’m not really that hungry.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because it catches the entire group’s attention. You sink lower in your seat as soon as it clicks in your mind that no one is ok with you not ordering food.
“W-well,” Wanda stutters, slightly turning in her seat so she can face you. “How about we share something?”
You want to argue with Wanda, you absolutely want to, but a wave of exhaustion hits you suddenly. You can tell it’s just surface level tiredness but you know that this feeling is a prerequisite to a more bone deep feeling of exhaustion, the one where you just want to collapse as soon as you can get to the nearest sleepable surface (which doesn’t necessarily mean something that is particularly meant for sleep). It dawns on you that your social meter is depleting, rapidly.
Sighing, you don’t argue.
Your friends’ odd behaviors throughout lunch isn’t lost on you. You notice that your friends are acting extremely weird almost from the very start.
Sam doesn’t respond to your attitude with some of his playful remarks to lighten the mood or to get you to relax and enjoy the company like he usually does. Bucky keeps his own quips to himself as well, which is as red as any flag can get given he’s not let anyone stop him from displaying the identity he’s regained since he’s escaped HYDRA’s tight grip.
The final straw is when Wanda says nothing about you barely touching the meal that she had so heavily suggested you share with her.
It’s completely stupid and foolish, but you are maybe and completely out of your mind angry about it. You don’t even care enough to stop yourself from storming out of the diner without any notice.
You have no idea where the hell you plan on going, not that you honestly care. Maybe you can finally find a place to crawl into and hide away from the world forever.
You make it around a corner before you even realize that Wanda has been trailing behind you the entire time. Sighing heavily, maybe growling through your teeth a little bit, you whip around to face her. “Why did you make me leave my house? I would’ve had a much better time sleeping.”
Wanda stops walking just shy of getting in your space, cautiously leaving some space between you but you honestly wonder if that’s the real reason or if she thinks you’re angry enough to do something in a blind rage if she’s in close enough proximity. It simultaneously makes your heart jump up your throat, almost prickling your eyes with tears, and plummets all the way to your stomach while leaving behind an ice cold trail. You force all those feelings down just like any other day.
“Well, I know you’ve been feeling really bad lately, so–”
“Oh,” you snap bitterly, “and you thought lunch was gonna fix that?”
Still, Wanda doesn’t rise to the bait of your defensive attitude and shakes her head softly. “I didn’t think lunch was gonna fix it. I want to fix it,” she explains gently, her hands beginning to fidget with each other. “I want to help.”
It’s not hard to connect the dots about where this is headed. A few weeks back, Wanda had a one-sided conversation with you about it over text. You had never responded to her messages and Wanda hadn’t brought it up when she came to visit you in person a few days afterward. Now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure that day had been the last time you had seen or talked to each other, even over the phone.
“I'm not going to therapy,” you state bluntly, turning back around so you don’t have to look Wanda in the face. You continue your original trek down the street, albeit at a much slower pace.
“Why refuse so quickly?” Wanda wonders, unsurprisingly still following you. She quickens her pace in order to be next to you instead of behind as she talks.
You stubbornly look ahead, refusing to meet her eyes even as you answer out of pure frustration from this conversation. “Because it won’t help.”
“You don't really believe that,” Wanda sighs.
“And how the hell do you know what I believe?”
Wanda’s hand suddenly snatches you by the arm, effectively leaving you with no choice but to stop walking and look at her. “Y/n,” she talks gently, in a way that’s meant to coax you into spilling your genuine thoughts and feelings. And, damn it, it works.
It’s the fact that you know Wanda will never let it go now, and also maybe, deep under all the repression, that you’ve wanted someone to care enough to make you talk about it, that gets you to cave.
You purse your lips tightly, almost painfully, as if you want it to hurt, before the words begin tumbling out of your mouth. “I lost so much in the Blip.” Scoffing, at your traitorous, shaky voice and at this bullshit world, you quickly continue before you lose your nerve. “It was reversed and some people came back… but some didn't. And it’s so much worse now ‘cause they’re really gone this time. There’s no way for them to come back.”
Memories flash through your mind involuntarily as you talk. Bright red hair, always in a new style every other time you saw it. A glowing chest and calloused hands, stained with oil. A reassuring smile attached to a protective, superpowered body.
“I just can’t forget anyone this last… fucking battle took away.” Wanda’s head tilts in sympathy, her hand taking hold of yours in a tight squeeze as if to convey just how much she empathizes with what you’re saying. “It’s a betrayal. Moving on is forgetting.”
“Y/N,” Wanda says, voice sounding water soaked and desperate this time. Immediately, you look up towards her face and you see that Wanda’s eyes have grown wet and red around the edges. The sight alone, of one of the last remaining people that you care about who’s still alive, is enough to make the knot in your throat bubble over helplessly.
Shaking her head, Wanda’s hand migrates to your shoulder in a firm grip. You’re forced to pay attention to what she says, so you don’t forget a single word. “Losing vision after he’d done so much to help me when Pietro… died,” Wanda’s breath catches slightly, “it felt like the final nail in the coffin. And I won’t lie to you, a part of me didn’t want to grieve for him. I wanted to hold on to him and how he made me feel forever, even if it hurt. Grieving felt like I was leaving him behind. But, grieving and healing… Y/N, that doesn’t mean you’re forgetting about them. It just means you are learning to live without them here.”
Wanda’s hands move once again, coming up cupping your cheeks. You watch every twitch in her face, the way her eyes squint and the way she bites her lip, likely attempts to keep the tears from overflowing. It’s useless, though, because as soon as you are no longer able to tramp down the tears, neither is Wanda.
You both break out in sobs at the same moment, yanking each other close and crashing into a deep hug. You stay in that hug for a while, both of you stumbling wetly through amends.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such a hermit and–and ignoring all of your messages. For being such a fucking ass during lunch.”
Wanda lets out a wet chuckle. “Sorry for dragging you to lunch.”
You shake your head vehemently despite still being pressed close together, your head resting on her shoulder. You know Wanda feels the movement. “I’m not. It’s exactly what I needed.”
Finally, you and Wanda separate. You collect yourselves, sniffling for a few moments, wiping the tears and snot from your faces. Wanda clears her throat, reaching into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a clump of papers. She hands the clump to you and says, “These are for you. You can look over them for as long as you want before deciding.”
“Deciding?” You repeat, confused. Looking at what the clump is meant to be, you quickly realize that it’s a bunch of mental health pamphlets and therapy brochures.
“Bucky gave them to me when we started hanging out after the Blip,” Wanda explains, playing with her finger nervously. “Now, I’m giving them to you.”
You can’t bring yourself to hold back the teensiest smile that makes its way onto your face. “You had these in your pocket the whole time?”
Wanda’s face grows a little red. “I was trying to wait for the right moment to bring them up.”
Nodding, you eye the pamphlets before shrugging, trying to seem nonchalant. “I’ll look through them.”
Wanda smiles brightly, obviously grateful. Then, she grabs your attention by shyly reaching for your hand. “How ‘bout I walk you home?”
You don’t even need to think about it, surprisingly. Going home sounds really, really nice, especially after you just cried and spilled your heart out on the sidewalk. The thought, actually, catches you off guard a little bit because you hope Wanda means she’ll stay with you when you get there. It’s been so long since you’ve wanted to be in the company of others voluntarily. You hope the feeling sticks around, too.
“That sounds great.” Wanda tugs your hand with an eager smile, leading you in the direction of your apartment, when a thought suddenly occurs to you. You tug back from Wanda. “Wait, I should apologize to Sam and Bucky.”
Wanda shakes her head a little. “I knew you'd probably want to be alone after we talked,” she explains. “I told them we could meet up again in a few days.”
Your chuckle turns into a grimace as complete embarrassment and guilt make a home in your gut. You don’t want to sit on these feelings, especially not after how horrible you behaved towards them. Resuming your walk, you make an effort to match Wanda’s pace. “I do kinda want to be alone right now, but I don’t want to make Sam and Bucky wait for an apology. I’ll invite them to dinner tomorrow.”
Wanda nods along. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Will you come?” you ask suddenly. “If you’re there, it won't feel like I’m trapped alone with them.”
Wanda squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Of course I’ll come with you.” Smiling, you hope your gratitude is easily visible.
“Hey, Wanda?” you wonder shyly. “Can you spend the night?”
“Of course, Y/N.”
(NOT MY GIF)
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