margenes | · OPEN POST ·

[Wanda grasps his fingers, looking down at their hands and shaking her head.]

It's beyond that. I took a town hostage, Pietro. I controlled their minds. It was agony for them.

[The scary part is that she hadn't meant to hurt anyone at all.]

[with her hand held in his, he brushes his thumb over her knuckles. if she won't look him in the eyes, at least he can remind her through touch that he's right here and he isn't on anyone's team but hers.]

Surely not on purpose?

[except every time wanda practiced her magic to manipulate others, she was fully aware of what she wanted to do.]

You should start from beginning. I'm not sure I follow.

You're dead.

[That's the beginning, right? Wanda's brow furrows.]

You... were. I didn't have a home anymore. I went with the Avengers, to America. I became one of them.

[Welcomed, even though she'd wanted to destroy them.]

[how morbid, sister. but he gets it—he had been dead for long, far as anyone was concerned. far as he was concerned. he's not entirely sure how his side of the story panned out, especially when wanda was not aware of him.]

And they treated you well?

[—better than being by herself, surely.

pietro can imagine how bad it must have felt, to be working with stark, of all people, but he has the impression that perhaps clint and even captain america must have been caring enough.]

[She nods. It's maybe not worth getting into the accords. It's the past, now. A far distant past even if it doesn't really feel that way to her, sometimes.]

But you weren't there.

[No matter how warm, how welcoming, how much they tried to be her family and make the compound feel like home, it wasn't. She felt so out of place. It's why she could understand Steve, and why she and Vision got along so well.

They're gone now, though.]

Wish that I could have been.

[he is sorry about that, but apologizing won't make any of them happy, and it's going to sound like someone's shifting the blame somewhere, when it isn't really the fault of either of them.]

America, like we had always dreamt... [well, through sitcoms] Tell me more, Wanda.

I will. I just...

[Have to lean into him again, hug him, remind herself that--somehow--he's here. She can feel him breathe. He's warm. If she stays still enough, she can feel his heartbeat.]

I missed you all the time, Pietro.

[he allows it, these pockets of space that she needs to get her thoughts together, and he's all the more happy to be the target of her hugs. hugging her right back, he presses his cheek to the top of her head.]

I know.

[it eats at him how alone she must have felt, and how he was not there for her. he should have been a little more selfish, knowing that his life was not his own to give away in a flurry of heroism.]

But you do know I haven't showered in a few days, yes?

[bringing one hand up to her face, he looks down at her as he caresses her cheek.]

You can tell me later. I can do my best to be patient. [and they both know he sucks at that] What you need is more important to me, Wanda.

I know. You stink.

[It's a soft, watery laugh against him.]

You should take a bath. It'll help you feel better. Get you comfortable.

[He's a mess. She's a mess, but at least she's clean and smells like tea and grass, not sweat and dirt.]

[an eyeroll from his behalf, but her response wasn't entirely unexpected.]

I don't imagine you have clothes for me in here. [he glances about] Is there warm water or it has to be boiled in kettle?

I do.

[She can have anything she can conjure. Just don't wander too far from her or the little bubble she lives in.]

And I have hot water. Do you think I want to live like that?

Then what am I waiting for sitting here like a dirty baby?

[upwards he goes, gently jostling his sister off of him, using the back of the couch to hold himself up. stopping movement altogether makes his muscles seize up a lot; it's better than before, but it's still very bothersome.]

Who knows, though. This looks like a prison retreat. Show me where everything is.

[Very rude when she's still very much in shock. Wanda grunts, standing up and moving to take his arm.]

Slow down.

[She knows, she knows. Not his style.]

This way.

[Down the hall that maybe wasn't there when they first entered. But hey, at the end of it, after a door or two, there's a sizable bathroom.]

I'll make you pay for being rude once you don't look so pitiful.

[he kisses the top of her head again as they walk down the hall, a way to show his appreciation for the fact that she's bearing with him through all this.

it doesn't stop him from noticing that... hm—] This place looks bigger from the inside. [he turns around, then forward again.] You're doing something, aren't you?

[grinning, as if to say he doesn't really care to know.]

Listen, it is not my intent to look pitiful. I want to be in excellent shape again more than anyone else, trust me.

[Wanda doesn't need to confirm, but she does give him a little tip of her head. Of course she's doing something.]

Not more than me.

[She wants him to be healthy and well and clean and looking like the brother that didn't break her heart. On the bathroom counter, there's a folded stack of clothing. All for him, in his size, like it's always been sitting there. Waiting.]

Will you be okay on your own?

[he's in the bathroom already, going for the folded clothes to see what he's got to work with. it's surprisingly something he would pick for himself; comfort clothes for home, too. at her question, he leaves the clothes where they were and turns back around to her, putting hands on her cheeks and pressing a kiss to her forehead.]

I have not forgotten how to shower. Don't worry.

[ushering her out, he'll close the door and start about with cleaning up; without a shirt, he can see that his chest is already bruising (thanks, fast metabolism and body response to trauma) from his fall, and he knows he'll feel much better after a hot shower. which he takes (at max speed), changes into a new, fresh set of threads, and does actually take his time to both shave, comb his hair, and brush his teeth. how did any of these things make it here?

surely magic.

pietro steps back outside into the hallway feeling a lot more refreshed and all too curious to look around.]

Wanda?

[She lingers outside the door for a few moments. It's still unreal to her, but she's seen remarkable, unexplainable things in her life. She's capable of things remarkable and unexplainable with a flick of her wrist.

Still--

Good things don't tend to last, for her.

But Pietro is safe and bathing, and Wanda steps away to go into one of the recently made rooms. There's a bed for him, some more clothes in a dresser, and she's in the process of making the bed the old fashioned way when he calls out.]

I'm in here.

[Putting a pillowcase on his pillow. How domestic.

But she had loved that, in Westview. Dearly.]

[she follows her voice and sees the utter domesticity of it all.]

I even get a pillow? Lucky me.

[he uses his super speed to rush to her side, wrapping his arms around his sister in a tight embrace. pietro is feeling a little more like himself; cleans and refreshed, although bruised and exhausted from his long journey to find wanda.]

I'm all clean. Better, yes?

[Of course he gets a pillow. He can have every comfort Wanda's been spoiled with since Sokovia and then some. But she feels spoiled by the fact that her other half is hugging her, and it takes her breath away.

She hugs him as tightly as she's able, breathing him in. Nicer, now that he's clean.]

Better.

[Her sigh is low and long.]

You're real. You're really here.

How much longer until you believe I am not a ghost? [an afterthought—] I would be a very handsome ghost.

[smiling at his own humor (is it humor, pietro? is it?), he lets go so that he can sit on the bed, noting how it's the perfect amount of soft it should be. he grabs at the pillow she was working on and finishes putting it inside the pillowcase, then setting it down.

pietro turns to his sister, takes her hands in his.]

How much of this [this house, this situation] are you making? Is it your powers?

[She had hoped he would be a ghost, once. That way, she wouldn't be so terribly alone--but she never saw him from the corner of her eye, or heard him in the still quiet of the night. It was disappointing.

Wanda looks at their hands, watching her thumbs run over his warm skin, then looks at his face.]

The remains of the porch and the main room were here when I found it. I've done the rest.

[Walls, roof, floors, furniture, lighting, plumbing.]

There was something in us all along, Pietro. It's why we were able to survive the stone.

Cool.

[it's the first thing he says, because hell yeah it's cool that his sister can just make these things become a reality. it doesn't even feel like it isn't, were it not for the fact that he is inside a cabin that should be a lot smaller than what he's seeing.

he allows her to do with his hands as she wills, glancing back at her.]

Something in us. Something special?

[Cool. Most would find this terrifying, especially after Westview--and she might, a little. She has no idea what her limits are. It's why she's out here, away from people she can hurt.

But Pietro always knows how to make her smile despite herself.]

Yeah. I met a witch. She seemed to believe there's was always something innate in me. And if that's true for me, it's true for you, and it would explain why we survived.

It was very lucky for us then, yes?

[he puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezes gently and keeps it there.]

Was she scary? [the witch] We heard so many stories as kids. Did she see how great you are?

[She reaches up to rest her hand over his.]

She wasn't scary. She talked too much.

[Agatha feared her, in the end. Called her cruel. Maybe she is.]

She won't bother us.

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