#hypersonicsilver

Or, at the very least, that was what Wanda had been telling herself. It won’t work, once a day for almost a year. The reminder was the only thing that stopped her from running to the Hatchery to beg the Five to do the one thing Wanda had tried to convince herself would never happen every morning when the thought crossed her mind. There was - it would have to be admitted - a small amount of pride that also made the plea die on her tongue each time the words warmed her vocal cords. She had decimated the mutants. Wiped them out. How then could she have the audacity to ask a favor? A part of her hoped that Erik would remember it was his only son and offer but every time she left the House of M the topic remained closed.

Pietro was dead. He had been dead for nine years, even if Wanda had missed five of those during her time in the ash. Nine years gone. Four years to miss him. For all the internal growth she had done this was the one thing she couldn’t let go. The one hurdle she couldn’t clear. Once you have Vision, she told herself, you’ll be content. you’ll move on. Four years and while Wanda was stronger, she had not moved on.

The mutants had learned they could hold themselves above death. Wanda had watched Erik die, her fathers blood painting the ground before his body was made whole once more. Her brothers had been broken on Sokovian soil so long ago before it was just as much dust as Wanda had been, but that didn’t matter. Krakoa could make a body, grow a being. They needed a mental scan but Wanda was assured enough in her powers to provide one. It had been fear that had held her back. In the red of her strength there had always been glimpses of the same, black debilitating fear that made her doubt if she could be enough. Wanda wanted Pietro back as he was. A mosaic of imperfections -- snark and softness, protection and arrogance. The Pietro in her mind would be a shadow of the man he had been and it wasn’t until she knew she could have help that Wanda found it within herself to try.

The resurrection process was unsettling, to say the least. She worked with the telepaths to create a strong enough sense of personality and helped them warp reality just enough to get a taste of what was to be. As they ‘grew a viable husk’ Wanda found that she couldn’t watch. Flesh stretched over bones and features made themselves known but she was so critical that she couldn’t stand there and try to figure out if each detail was perfect. This was the Five’s job. It was what they did. Wanda trusted them to the best of her ability and when it was time she went to him. He had once been 12 minutes older but now she beat him by 2,103,796.  When he came to, she cried. Down on her knees she wrapped her arms around him even though it meant she also got the gel of the pod on her. Wanda wept, and then, she rose and took her brother to where they could be alone.

Some time had passed since then. While she hadn’t been able to touch Vision at first she couldn’t let go of Pietro’s hand. Eventually her body had settled against his, head in his lap. She had laid like that as a child, his leg tap - tap - tapping in a way both infuriating and calming. It had helped her to sleep back then, but now she was wide awake. She couldn’t close her eyes if she wanted to. Every detail, every syllable, every breath had to be memorized. The co-dependence she had once clung to flared up in her breast but Wanda was not a child. She was  not even the woman she had been when he died.