CLOUDS BLANKETED THE SKY as Peter sat on the edge of the roof, staring down at the city below and looking up at the few stars that had managed to creep through.

He'd woken up almost an hour ago, his body shaking and sweating. The dream had been filled with nothing but darkness for miles and a deafening silence that Peter would swear was trying to suffocate him. It was accompanied by the sickening feeling of falling that tugged relentlessly at his body, threatening to keep pulling him down and down but never quite letting him hit the bottom- then he'd woken up. Peter decided at some point on his journey to the rooftop, that he dreamt of death so often that it was beginning to feel much more like a memory than anything else.

Drawing in a small, heavy breath, Peter's head dropped down to his chest.

For a few moments he looked down at his hands that had fallen limp in his lap. They were starting to go cold from the night air and in the back of his mind Peter knew he should move before he couldn't thermoregulate back to a safe temperature- but he couldn't find the energy.

As the thought filtered through his brain, an unfamiliar warmth spread from his fingertips.

Like a tingling sensation that was beginning to overtake his entire hand. Peter frowned at the strange feeling when blue wisps of something- he wasn't sure what- began to swirl around in his palm.

Panic shot through Peter like a bullet as his chest rose and fell erratically. His body stiffened on instinct, afraid to so much as move, except the power only strengthened- pulsed as if it was trying to warn off non-existent dangers. Peter's heart pounded a little harder but his fear dwindled.

His tongue dashed across his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut and desperately willed it away.

"Can't sleep?"

A short, sharp breath hit the back of Peter's throat as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His head whipped around to face the direction the voice had originated from; Wanda was making her way towards him in her pyjamas, looking just as tired as Peter suddenly felt. Like a wall of exhaustion had crashed into him. Drowsily, Peter blinked a few times as he caught sight of hands curled in his lap and not glowing- relief flowed through him. He shifted his hands so that he was sitting on them to hide the trembling, "Something like that."

Uncertainly, Wanda hovered behind his shoulder before she seemed to pluck up the courage, "I want to say thank you." she announced, lowering herself so that she could sit beside him on the ledge.

Her movements were slow, giving Peter the time to object to her company. He simply turned back to look out over the entirety of New York as she settled. "For what?" he asked finally.

"For the bracelet."

Peter's eyes jumped from the view ahead of him to Wanda's wrist. He was pleasantly surprised to see the leather strip that was intertwined with red and blue fabric sitting against her skin in a stark contrast to her pale complexion. It was joined together by a small, silver 'M' that glinted.

"Oh." He breathed, feeling his cheeks flare pink. "You're, uh, welcome."

Nodding slightly to herself, Wanda smiled down at the accessory as she pulled her arm back and fiddled unconsciously with the charm, her features smoothing into something resembling contentment. It was a rare expression for the girl since she always looked like she was remembering something painful- Peter saw the same look on his own face sometimes. It had been especially apparent in his early days of living with the avengers but had been slowly becoming less common.

"Why are you up so late?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper.

He'd didn't respond for a few seconds. Peter couldn't tear his eyes away from his hands, his mind replaying the luminous glow; suddenly the urge to tell somebody increased tenfold. The teen didn't know whether it was because he was sleep deprived or if it was the cover of darkness and being alone with Wanda on the rooftop or if he had finally had enough- but his gaze flicked up tentatively to meet her eyes. She was already staring him down with a curious expression.

Subconsciously, her head had tilted to the side as she waited for a response. Peter noted that she looked vaguely threatening but her body language was relaxed and seemingly at ease.

"It's got to stay between use-" his tongue dashed out again, "- but can you help me?"

The woman seemed mildly surprised by the sudden question and its intensity, (so was Peter himself), but she nodded her head regardless. "I promise. What do you need help with?"

Peter breathed out shakily, feeling his heart once again pounding against his ribcage as he clenched his fists; the strange power didn't hesitate to swirl around Peter's fingertips once again like a mist. The brightness steadily grew with every passing second at being willingly released; Peter's eyes studied Wanda's face self-consciously. If anyone was going to understand, had the ability to understand then she would, right? The reasoning was making his breath come out staggered.

Red flashed across Wanda's eyes as she hovered her hands over his, letting her own magic whirl and spiral towards his. They moved like water, fluid and graceful but never quite touching as they mixed and twirled continuously- the powers suddenly sparked.

A gasp escaped Wanda's lips as she jolted away. Her magic retracted back almost instinctively as Peter's flared and grew in its intensity as though they were shielding Peter, lashing out in his defence.

"Did I hurt you?" Peter rushed out.

His eyes were wide and darting over her appearance, as if trying to search for an invisible injury. Eventually, Wanda managed to tear her eyes from his hands and back to his face when her breath stuttered in her lungs as she finally saw how terrified Peter looked at even the mere idea of hurting her- he was physically pulling away from her when she reached out to touch his arm.

"Wanda I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to do- Wanda-" his breath was short and sharp as he tried failingly to control what she knew to be wisps of magic and calm his racing mind.

"Peter!" She ordered, strongly grasping his chin and essentially forcing him to focus on her. It stopped him from inching further away and almost off the roof as he seemed to freeze under her touch, torn between wanting to wrench away but also not hurt her further. "I'm okay. But I need you to calm down, your powers are tied to your emotions- it's okay. Everything it going to be okay so breathe."

The instruction took a few seconds to process before Peter was following Wanda's exaggerated breathing and her soothing words of comfort that washed over him.

Eventually, what had been her initial harsh touch turned gentle and she moved to hold his face in both her hands, never breaking their eye contact while she coached him through breathing exercises that she used to perform whenever Pietro had a bad nightmare. "Better?" She asked quietly, waiting until Peter nodded before pulling away and looking back out over the city around them.

There was a beat of quiet between them where only Peter's heavy breathing could be heard.

Wanda had never been good at comforting people that wasn't her brother, and felt slightly awkward and stubbornly refused to look at Peter when she asked, "You know what Pietro said to me, when I first got my powers?" She stared forwards, not waiting for a response. "He said that he loved me, regardless of the destruction I caused- and there was a lot." A faint smile pulled on her lips as she thought about her brother before she risked a glance to the boy beside her; Peter was clutching the edge of the roof till his knuckles turned white- Wanda could hear it cracking beneath his grip.

"Has anyone told you they love you?"

The loaded question hung between them and Peter's eyes darkened before he looked away.

"I don't want to hurt anyone Wanda. I," he let out frustrated breath, "I don't want them to be scared of me." the whisper was barely audible; the confession taken from his lips by the breeze around them. He remembered the first years of his life where he didn't care for people's opinions about him- he was meant to be feared and only spoken about in hushed whispers, but now? Peter couldn't bear the thought of the ones he loved being scared of him. Peter could feel tears beginning to form and burn the backs of his eyes as he struggled to blink them away because every time that he did, he could see the bodies of his family imprinted on his eye lids, and he knew, it was because of him.

And it broke every part of him.

"You can't control their fear, only your own." Wanda said quietly, her voice soft and calm as she pulled the sobbing boy into her arms and held him tight; his fingers curled into her shirt as he hunched over her small stature, finally allowing himself to break.

"You are loved Peter Parker; they'll always love their паук." 

A/N

Ok- I just did russian for Wanda's like, home language, because I couldn't find any equivalent so, like, no one eat me alive, okay? Thanks :) (паук also means spider).

ALSO. I'm not too sure on the way Peter revealed his magic to Wanda, it feels a little jarring but I really like the end conversation of Wanda comforting him and saying that they do actually love him- because nobody has said it to him yet. And he kinda needs to hear it, to believe it.

And idk if I explained, but like, the magic is going to be a catalyst rather than like the whole plot? But it will be a factor in certain plot points- if that makes sense?

Anyway! Let me know of any spelling mistakes! xoxo.