My hand trembled as I pulled the dirty photo from the drawer for the third time that day. I took it back to the bed and stared at it while sitting on the edge of the thick mattress. I hadn't felt this way since the first week after his death. Like my legs were too heavy to move. My mind to clouded to think. My eyesight too blurry to see straight. Probably due to the tears. I angrily brushed them away and glanced at the open door of the guest room Tony Stark had lent me. I was told this was my home. I could make the room my own. But it remained plain. I knew they wouldn't keep me here long.

Dangerous. Villain. Mutant. Unnatural. Freak. Monster.

I had been called all those things. Not only random civilians or bloggers or conspiracy theorists. On live TV. On CNN news for god's sake. Of course if the news said it was so, it must be true, right? Everyone seemed to think so. After the disaster in Africa a few months before, I seemed to be more hated than the Winter Soldier. Probably because Bucky had been proved innocent by King T'Challa. They were still fugitives for running from the law and refusing to sign the Accords, unfortunately. Bucky was still considered dangerous because of his involvement with HYDRA. I had been able to clean all those mind tricks from his head though. At least my magic's good for something.

Another tear slipped down my cheek as I glanced down at the photo again. The only one I had of my brother. He was grinning at the camera with an arrogant stance, but I saw past that. To his amused expression and laughing eyes. He was laughing at me as I took my first picture ever. That had been the first time I had ever seen or used a camera. Let's just say I had been a little over excited. I had since loved photography. That had only been a year ago. Pietro looked the same as I last saw him smiling, except a bit shorter and younger. The one thing that never changed was his grin.

"Hey," Steve announced his presence, making me jump and quickly hide both my tears and the picture. Judging by his soft dad face, though, he had already seen.

"Hello," I tried to play it off coolly. I could feel the tremble in my voice. There goes that plan.

He sat next to me on the bed. I was having serious déjavù now. "Did you want to talk about it?"

Why do you even pretend to care? I wondered darkly. Only one person ever cared. But now he was gone.

I handed him the photo regardless. The super soldier took it gently in his hand and studied it, eyebrows pressed together in concentration. He looked back up at me sympathetically. I hated that look. Whenever people have it on, they are only pushing back the thought, better her then me. I know. I've read some people's minds. I didn't dare do it to any of the Avengers, fearing that they may be able to sense me as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. But everyone thought the same thing.

"I just miss him," I let slip out. I glanced up at Steve's face again and changed the subject. "I'm kind of hungry right now though. Is dinner ready?"

"Oh yeah," he stood and reached out a hand for me to grab. "That's what I came here to tell you."

"Good," I smiled, not at all craving food. I took his hand and he pulled me up off the bed, smiling fatherly. Or motherly. Tony always joked he was the mom of the Avengers. I didn't really know the difference. My parents had gone when me and Pietro were young. Not very many memories had them with us. But I hated to think about those memories anyway. They only led to the bad ones. Which had been half my life. A bad memory.

Dinner was short. Left overs, as usual. This time I got some random spaghetti I didn't remember having the first time. You never know what you could find in the fridge. Nothing really interesting happened like the food fight the boys had the other night or the Fast and Furious marathon from a week ago. In fact it was rather serious with a bit of tension in the air. Everyone kept glancing at me, sometimes skeptically, as if they were trying to figure something out, and other times worriedly. It started to make me anxious.

Clint was doing it the most often, looking over in concern, biting his lip and tapping his fork repeatedly on the table. Yet he said nothing. It kind of hurt. Clint had always been there for me, well most of them had, but if I fell down durning training he would immediately check me over and patch me up. If he caught me binge watching Supernatural at three o'clock in the morning he would shut everything down and tell me to sleep. If my father were still alive, I imagine he would be a bit like Clint.

Finally I finished the disgusting bowl of old noodles and couldn't stand it anymore.

"What?" I looked directly into Bucky's eyes. I knew he got nervous when asked a question directly, so he was my first choice.

He tensed predictably. "What are you looking at me for?"

I turned my pleading gaze to Scott who then cleared his throat and glanced at Tony awkwardly. Sam, Rhodey and Bruce avoided my eyes. Steve winced at my question. Tony pursed his lips.

"Yes, what is the point of this secrecy, son of Stark?" Thor rumbled and chewed on a chicken leg.

I turned to Natasha. She always had my back. Us girls had to stick together, after all. She could relate to my past and I surprised myself by opening up to her a few weeks before. She in turn trusted me with her secrets about the Red Room. The assassin had taught me how to physically defend myself, or the basics of it anyhow. I assumed the basics of assassination were more than enough though. She raised a calm eyebrow at me and elbowed Tony.

"Stark, she deserves to know," she told him sternly.

He let out an annoyed breath. "Fine."

"Wanda," he looked at me somewhat awkwardly. "You remember Ross, right?"

"Yes," I stated simply, wanting him to get to the point.

"Well. He has ordered - through whatever was left of SHEILD and the military and the police force to capture these guys," - he pointed to the Avengers that had been on Cap's side of the war - "to be neutralized on sight except for Winty over here, he's still got the death penalty. But unfortunately, so do you now."

My breath caught in my throat at his words. Still he continued, despite my reaction.

"You've been put on the most wanted list in the States and many other countries. Policing forces have been ordered to..."

He glanced at Vision, as if for reassurance, and cleared his throat. "Um, to shoot on sight and to shoot with the intent to kill."

Uncontrollable. I had forgotten that one earlier. All I was to them was a powerful weapon they couldn't control. It must kill them to know that I'm running around freely with the power to do - actually I don't even know the full extent of my abilities. To tell you the truth, it scared me. No, the magic inside terrified me. I shouldn't have been surprised at Ross's order, but I was. My face was probably white as a ghost. My hands shook. The entire country along with a few others had permission to kill me.

Nothing I wasn't used to, right? People tried to kill me all the time. But I-I had finally thought I was safe from that while with the Avengers. Now I realized I hadn't only ruined their reputation and been a key factor in having to write the Accords, I was still putting them in danger. By being with them. No more incognito shopping trips with Scott. No more going to the bakery for some team donuts with Clint. No more going to get some fresh air with Nat. House arrest seemed immanent. But fortunately I wasn't going to let that happen. I was not going to let the only people I cared about be in danger constantly.

"I'm sorry," I lowered my head guiltily. "I-I have to go."

I stood abruptly from the high kitchen table, causing my stool to fall over with a loud crack. God, Wanda. You can't even leave a room without being destructive. Tears formed in my eyes but I didn't let them slide. I whispered an apology to Tony, see as it was his chair. He gave me an I-can-just-buy-a-new-one look. Clint, Steve and Rhodey all got up to follow me, but I reached the guest room faster, slamming the door behind me and locking it. It wasn't until then did I let the river loose and it streamed down like waterfalls down my face.

All of it was my fault. Ultron's attack wouldn't have been possible without me. The Accords had come from a wrong doing of my own. That in turn lead to the civil war with the help of that Russian man. And Pietro...I should have been there for him! He had convinced me to fight, I should have stayed by his side. Then maybe he wouldn't have been such a hero and I could have kept the bullets from hitting. Shit.

I looked up at the security camera from my position curled up on the door. I stared with red puffy eyes, knowing that was the number one problem in my newly formed plan. So I reached out a hand, retraining most of my restless magic, and let just enough out. I flicked my hand and the camera jerked to the side with a spark. It started at smoke a bit, but I contained it before it reached the fire detectors.

Then I got up, tears drying, and went to the dresser. I started to pack a backpack, a big one, meant for hiking. You could find everything in Stark's closet, but I only packed essentials. A few pairs of clothes, toiletries, good shoes. Of course I slipped on my red leather jacket. Unfortunately I realized it would probably be too noticeable. So I instead put it in the backpack and replaced it with a long army green one. Under that I wore jeans and a dark T-shit with the design of a single red rose over my heart. It was my favorite shirt.

I slipped on dark red and pink running shoes to make up for the loss of my jacket and of course my two necklaces. A very long one that went down to nearly my bellybutton with a crimson colored gem stone that represented myself. And a light blue one that was only half the length that I wore for Pietro.

I glance back at the door fearfully, pulling my grey cap on. Why hadn't anyone come banging on it, demanding to be let in?

They don't care, that's why, that stupid voice told me. Unfortunately it was right. After all, what other reason was there?

I swallowed back my emotions. Saving them for another time. Right then my mission was to get out of the compound and far, far away from my friends. Even if they didn't give a damn about me, I still cared for them. So I peaked out of the hallway. Seeing it vacant, I searched with my abilities to see if there was anyone on the way to my destination. Thankfully, they all seemed to still be in the kitchen and living area. I reached the large room without a hitch, backpack on my shoulder, eyes narrowing as I spotted my goal.