Quicksilver

…

The praise had Mia grinning from ear to ear, unable but to internally pat herself on the back. She’d been working on her Sokovian since her arrival and it had admittedly been a little slow-going. She was certainly doing better than she was a few months ago, was conversational now even if she was still a little clumsy and slow. “Thanks,” she responded, before switching back to English. “I’ve been working on it for a few months, definitely better than I was doing back in October.” If she wanted to actually help when it came to the aid work, it helped to speak the language. “Well, I meant like…right here,” she gestured down towards the spot she was standing, indicating their current location rather than the country in general. That was a lot more complicated than just coming to Sokovia for aid work. She’d come for a lot more than that, but Speedy was tabled for the time being. Maybe permanently. She was trying not to think about it. “Must’ve just missed each other in passing or something. Either way, I’m Mia.”

-

“Oh, well you must be more clear next time, Mia. Meanings can so easily get lost in translation. I’m Pietro.” As soon as he finished speaking he was on the move again, albeit considerably slower than before. He had an unfortunate tendency to think of other people as baggage weighing him down, but even he know there where times when he begrudgingly had to ask for help.

-

Wanda felt the turmoil in his mind without reading it and she understood where it came from. She was sure she would feel the same way if they were reversed. She felt awful lying to him because Wanda never lied to Pietro. They had always been in this together with them against the world. She’d been trying to stand on her own so long that it was so much easier to breathe now that his arms were around her again and the empty space inside her heart was full all over. It was going to be ok because he was here and she wasn’t giving that up without a fight. 

“I’ve been practicing,” she said. “There’s so much more that Hydra didn’t know about that I found on my own… and with a little bit of help.” She wrapped her arms around his waist again and pushed her face onto his chest to feel his heart beat so she could take him with her. When her eyes opened again they were on the steps of Petrovich castle. Stepping back from him she looked up to see his reaction. She had said there was a lot she had found on her own. 

“A lot of people live here now,” she told him. “Even the older couple who used to leave us their day old bread at the bakery when we ran away from the home. Remember them?”

-

With the same tinge of scarlet he had experienced earlier, Pietro’s view shifted and suddenly he was staring up at the imposing castle walls. His mouth dropped open in stunned silence. It took him a moment to catch his breath, and his head was starting to throb again.

“How long was I asleep that you learned to do that?” he exclaimed in disbelief. He knew that Wanda had always been driven by a desire to do more and be more, yet she had seemed so unsure when it came to using her powers in his experience at least. To see that she had become capable of healing and teleportation and who knows what else threw Pietro off guard. The question really did send shockwaves through his mind- how long had she been apart from him? He tore his eyes away from the structure and back to his sister.

“I remember,” he replied, nodding. “The Kaloyanoffs? I didn’t know they were still alive.” It was strange. Pietro was so used to losing people, somehow learning that this old couple he hardly knew from his life before were still alive filled him with emotion. And looking back up yo Petrovich castle, home to those with no home but still making the best of their situation just like so many others in this country, he dared to think that maybe the story of his life and the story of Sokovia isn’t solely one of loss. The pages were being rewritten as a tale of resilience and, perhaps more importantly, hope.

“So this is some kind of... hotel now, huh? And we will be living here too? I don’t know, the idea of being superheroes in America has grown on me.“ 

.

What an asshole. Granted, Berto hadn’t made a stellar first impression – although points should be given for the novelty of it all, he doubted that most people could make an entrance like that. Either way, the mocking had him huffing as he maneuvered himself back on his feet, idly brushing some dirt from his uniform. He could use his powers just fine without damage to normal clothes, but the uniform was particularly good as a conduit, saving up on his energy reserves.

“I can’t get hurt when I’m powered up, don’t worry,” he said it casually, but it sounded more like he was showing off than appeasing someone’s concern. “You’re not freaking out or trying to attack me, so I can assume you’re neither an unsuspecting civilian nor with ISA.”

-

“Oh, that was your power?” he asked, feigning interest. “I see. I didn’t realise falling from the sky was a power but you are very good at it, I must admit.” He smirked at his own jest. Pietro didn’t usually try to be obnoxious, but he liked making a joke. Unfortunately a large percentage of the time it tended to happen at someone else’s expense. He was of the opinion that if they got offended, it was their problem, not his. 

“ISA? I haven’t heard of them. I’ve been... away. No, I was actually one of the Avengers,” he said smugly. He failed to mention that he had only been on the roster for a few hours.

…

Mia blinked at the blur that disappeared after speaking swiftly in Sokovian, swearing lightly under her breath in Spanish. It was not her first experience with a speedster, certainly wouldn’t be the last, though it was something she never quite got used to. Sokovian wasn’t her strong suit, she was conversational at best, though she’d managed to process his first question by the time he’d reappeared. Then there were more questions, still in Sokovian, and Mia couldn’t help but grumble as she pieced the words together. “I’m here to make myself useful,” she objected once he’d switched to English. “Literally the only reason why I’m here.” Volunteer and refugee work was just about the only thing she had going for her at the moment with Speedy derailed (potentially permanently); getting out of the Mousehole was crucial for her sanity, and she’d come to Sokovia with the intentions of doing outreach in the first place. “And I do have a brain, thank you,” she responded in Sokovian, a little slow and clumsy though she was proud she’d managed it all the same. 

-

Pietro was taken aback by her response in his own language. It was almost unheard of that an outsider would even bother to try learning Sokovian, a difficult, obscure language, and even though the attempt wasn’t perfect, it was enough to earn the speedster’s respect. “Very good!” he remarked, nodding his head and smiling with approval. 

-

When Pietro stepped back and fell to the ground she knew that something was very wrong. The Pietro of her memories and dreams hadn’t ever been able to touch her before and he’d never been so agitated. This Pietro seemed seriously confused and Wanda felt panic well up in her chest. She had done this. That was the only explanation she could come up with in her head. If this was really her twin brother there was a wave of emotions in chest. Elation was first because it felt like a large part of her that was missing was full again, but then came fear because if he was hear she had done something impossible and dangerous and she had no idea what she might have caused. 

What’s happening?

Her thoughts stopped when she caught sight of the blood on his skin. “Oh, brate,” she said softly to him while she sank to her knees to join him. Wanda caught his hands with hers and looked down at the torn skin. It reminded her of Bucky just a short while ago and she repeated the motion of running her thumbs over the skin. She imagined the cuts knitting themselves back together like they were never there and his skin followed her thoughts while red energy flicked over the spots until they were good as new. “The fight is over,” she whispered. “Ultron is gone and we won. It was at a terrible cost.” 

Wanda didn’t think it seemed like a good idea to tell Pietro he’d been killed and that he was somehow alive again. She didn’t have answers to the ten thousand questions that would surely follow and she already knew she would need help from someone greater than she was. She thought of red hair and understanding eyes and decided Jean was probably the best option but she couldn’t just bring Pietro back to the Mousehole. Not now when he didn’t know what was going on and neither did she and there would be even more questions. “You’ve been asleep,” she told him. Wanda chose to lie to protect him and herself right now even if it might be selfish. It felt wrong because she never lied to Pietro but this was too much to put on him. “But it was time to wake up, my brother.” 

She couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing in as tightly as she could to hold him and really feel that he was there. “Come. I’ll take you somewhere. Here isn’t safe.” Wanda didn’t know if anywhere was safe for him right now but she couldn’t stay with him crouched in the dirt. 

-

Though the stinging in his palms subsided as Wanda worked her magic, the pain in his head remained. He couldn’t focus; her words went in but they didn’t make any sense. We won? I have been asleep? How could this be possible? It seemed like only moments ago he was on the battlefield but yet, when he actually tried to picture it, the memory was faded like a distant one. Pietro trusted his sister more than anyone, and knew her well enough that he didn’t need her telepathy to know what she was thinking. He suspected that she was telling the truth- but not the whole truth. 

His own arms instinctively wrapped around her as she pressed in close. Again, he felt the odd sensation of nostalgia, as if he hadn’t embraced his sister in a long time...

“Your power is different,” he grunted as he lifted pushed himself up off the ground, unintentionally steadying himself on Wanda. “It felt... stronger. I haven’t seen you heal before.” He managed to stand up straight, albeit a little wobbly. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable since those fateful couple of nights in the apartment. It took him a moment to process her words bouncing around his brain. “Here isn’t safe?” he echoed. “But Ultron is dead, no? Why-” he was cut off by a groan from his stomach. He winced. “You know, as long as wherever you’re taking me has food, I’ll be happy. Lead the way.”

Her mind wouldn’t create this kind of Pietro. He was confused and it was confusing her too. “Running away… what? No. I’m not running away Pietro. You’re…” She stopped and looked at his face. His eyes were different. More… alive. 

When he grabbed her hand she looked down in shock because she could feel his fingers. That shouldn’t be happening. He was a memory she’d made not a real…person… Wasn’t he? Her eyes widened and she tightened her fingers around his and stepped in close. Reaching her hand up, Wanda grabbed the back of his neck to pull him in enough that she could smell his familiar scent. “Pietro…?”

Her heart beat fast and she put her hand on his chest over the beat of his own and it was there. “Brate?” she whimpered, her eyes welling up again. “You’re… here?” How was this possible? It couldn’t be him, could it?

-

He glanced down in surprise as her hand touched his chest. “You’re not making sense...” He muttered, then shook his head, locks of white hair covering his eyes. “I’m here, yes. You know that,” the frustration was evident now, “you’re the one who brought me here. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” He tried to make it sound sarcastic but his tone was laced with concern. If anyone hurt his sister he would kill them, human or robot. But as he looked at her, Pietro couldn’t see any visible injuries. Her expression, however, and the desperation in her face unsettled him, causing him to take a step back. 

“If you’re hurt, tell me. I’ll go and get someone.” Pietro turned to run but his legs gave way beneath him. It felt as if his body was still slowly turning itself on, and his legs were last to wake up, trying to catch up with his head. He swore as his hands hit the ground, the skin on his palms torn by the rough ground. He sat up and watched as they slowly started to turn red, then clenched them into a fist to stem the flow. 

“What is happening?” he whispered through a grimace.

“You’re in the way” Pietro said in Sokovian, depositing a sack of bread in the doorway of a derelict-looking house just metres away from where the other person stood. This area of Novi Grad had been hit particularly hard during the conflict and, while rebuilding was slow, the residents had stayed in what little remained of their family homes. They had nowhere else to go. As quickly as Pietro had arrived, he disappeared in a blur, only to reappear a few seconds later.

“You're still here?” He called out, carrying another sack, this one filled with cabbages. “You have a brain up there? Move.” He again dropped off the sack, then rushed back the way he had come before stopping suddenly. Perhaps they weren’t completely stupid- he realised there may have been an error in communication. In a flash, he stood in front of the other.

“Listen,” he started, this time in English, “how can I put this? Either make yourself useful or go away. I’m busy here, so unless you want to help move something heavy, go be a tourist somewhere else. Understand?”

-

The voice sounded so real that it pulled Wanda from her tears and she froze all the way up her spine. In the past her wishes had brought her echoes and even dreams of people she missed but she didn’t know if she wanted this one. It was cruel even if she manifested it herself because she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him. However Wanda had been without her twin for so long that the idea of seeing him only for a minute was also tempting. She sniffled again while she weighed the pros and cons of just ignoring the voice and hoping it would go away or turning around to see if her mind had conjured him if only for a few minutes. 

“Brate?” She said quietly. 

He sounded angry with her or aggravated but she was used to that. Pietro’s mind moved so fast that sometimes he was too tired to regulate his tone. Slowly, Wanda pulled her hands from the dust and studied the grime left on her fingers from it. She had to be brave. Steve was brave. Clint was too. They would want her to be as well.

Rising to her feet, Wanda brushed off her skirt. Her breathing was shaky but she turned anyway to be confronted by the ghost of her brother from her own mind. Her tears gathered in her eyes again but she kept herself stronger than before. “I miss you.”

-

Pietro felt something was off. His sister had always been so strong. Many times as orphans on the cold and unforgiving streets he knew he would never have lived to see a new day had it not been for Wanda’s courage. So why did she seem so scared to face him? His brow furrowed as he processed her words, thoughts still groggy in his pounding head.

“You... miss me?” he croaked, the words coming out louder now. “How can you miss me? What’s happening, Wanda?” he demanded, stepping towards her. He caught sight of the dirt that sullied her hands and legs, then looked up into her eyes for the first time, seeing his own features in the pools that gathered there. It was enough to push his temper back, replaced with guilt at his outburst. Although he wouldn’t apologise, no brother wants to see his sister upset.

“Are you running away?” he asked, his tone softer than before. “Is that why you’ve changed your clothes and brought me here? I was about to rip Ultron’s head from his shoulders-” feeling the rage surging up again he bit his tongue, not wanting to say something he would regret. God knows he didn’t want to add to that list. “We need to go back there,” he said, reaching for her hand, “we never run from a fight. Hey, don’t be scared. Look at me.” He smiled, the same old smile he had perfected just for her, when it was just the two of them against the world, to let her know that everything will be okay. “You know I’ll never let you face anything alone, right? I’ll always be with you, I promise.”

Open starter

“Incoming!” Shouted as he plummeted down through the air and right into the lake.

In retrospect, Roberto should have been more careful. One moment of distraction – he thought he had seen something in the woods from up above, what could that possibly be? – led to a haste in trying to get a closer look and then a sharp swerve off course to avoid hitting a tree. Falling into the teeth-chattering cold water, he concentrated not to let his energy burn out until he managed to escape, throwing himself onto the ground with a gasp.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he sighed, flickering to his regular form as he laid there on his back, catching his breath. Another surge of heat and the dampness clinging to his uniform and hair sizzled out, before he tilted his head to look at the poor soul that had just witnessed it all. “I swear I’m usually much better at flying.”

-

The flash of light in the distant sky grabbed Pietro’s attention, and he watched with curiosity as it fell to Earth. A shooting star? No, it was too close for that, and if he listened closely, he was fairly confident shooting stars shouldn’t yell. In a blur, the speedster arrived at the impact location just as the mysterious figure collided with the lake.

Arms folded, he leaned against a tree by the water’s edge, watching with amusement as the other made it to shore. Something in Pietro’s head told him that a man appearing in the sky on fire was an unusual sight, but the world and Pietro’s view of it had changed so much so quickly that he brushed it off. Hell, it wasn’t even the strangest thing he’d seen all week.

“Flying?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure you can call it that. No, that was definitely falling. And a word of advice: try landing on your feet next time, not your stomach.”

@fastandfrictionless

Teleporting was new for Wanda but she had figured out she could do it by watching how Misfit did it and wondering if she could do the same thing. She practiced a little bit but it was as easy for her as imagining that she was in a different place. Wanda didn’t know if that meant she couldn’t ever go anywhere she had never been but she didn’t need to know that yet. She had only been practicing in the garden when her body moved much further than she expected and to a place she didn’t even know she was thinking about. 

She recognized where she was immediately and her mind was filled with the shriek of pain from her own throat when she felt Pietro die. She was standing right in the same spot and her knees buckled like they did four years ago. The area was dirty and desolate now even with all the rebuilding that had been going on in Novi Grad. Wanda didn’t know why she was her or if her thoughts were the ones that brought her. Jean Grey would have insight maybe but she wasn’t here and Wanda’s tears told her that it wasn’t time to try to teleport back to the castle.

Wanda sniffled and her fingers curled in the dirt and dust under them. She hadn’t felt this pain in such a long time that she was surprised how quickly it had come back. Pietro shouldn’t have been the one to die. She was the unstable one who didn’t know how her own powers worked and hurt people in the process of trying to save them. He would have been a better Avenger than she ever could be. 

She didn’t mean to because she didn’t know she could, but while Wanda cried she imagined a world where Pietro Maximoff wasn’t dead. That world would be better than this one because he was in it and he wouldn’t have left her alone. What the Scarlet Witch didn’t know was that her thoughts and emotions were more powerful than they ever were now. They were powerful enough to raise the dead.

In a world of blackness, there suddenly appeared a pinprick of red. The light grew rapidly, scarlet tendrils branching off in every direction until it was all Pietro could see. Wait a second... he could see? Pietro’s eyes burst open and the dull light of a grey afternoon blinded him, sending him stumbling backwards.

To Pietro, this groggy sensation felt like sleep inertia: that feeling as soon as you wake up and aren’t quite sure which way is up and whether the reality you were just in is the same reality as the one you’re in right now. His head span as all his memories came flooding back to him, except a few. He tried to think of the moments before he woke up here, but his brain screamed as if it was full of white noise and the memories appeared to be locked behind a solid door. The last image he could visualise was the sky full of swarming Ultron drones. A flash of Clint Barton appeared, running towards a child, but every time Pietro tried to focus on it, the picture shifted to the peripherals.

As his vision began to clear, the Sokovian blinked, taking in the concrete landscape around him. He knew it instantly as his own country, but the spot he was standing in... it felt familiar, but he couldn’t recall ever visiting this exact spot of his city before. He winced and doubled-over as a sudden, piercing pain lit up his back, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. As he lifted his head, his stormy eyes settled on a figure on the ground a little way in front of him. She was facing the other direction, but Pietro had seen that silhouette each and every day of his life. Today was no exception.

He tried to call out but no sound escaped his throat at first. Just breathing at first felt like inhaling shards of glass, but he swallowed the dry air and tried again, managing to rasp out one word, but it sounded more like an accusation:

“Wanda?”

Did you miss me?