The Bravest of Them All (Pietro Maximoff)

Part 15: The Words

"Sister," Wanda whispers, her raspy voice overwhelmed with joy. I can't help but continue to feel nostalgic—thinking about the many times Wanda would call me her sister when we were little. We always skipped that best friend title and went straight to sister. But it's true, we might not be blood but we're each other's family. Our childhood created a bond and our trauma made it stronger.

"Hi," I whisper back, my voice cracking up as well as I swallow back my tears. "Sister."

I have my best friend back.

I have my sister back.

When Wanda releases me, she doesn't slowly so she remains close. She keeps her hands on my arms as if she lets me go, I would disappear. But this moment is real. I'm real. Not that entity amongst everything and everyone.

I feel the tears collecting in my eyes. Before I can snap out of my thought, Wanda catches the look on my face. The tears are now streaming down my cheeks. I bare through her witnessing my sadness, her automatically giving me pity, but when I see her face, I would have mistaken it for sadness if it weren't for the smile.

"You're not mad?" I finally ask, wiping away the new set of tears.

"Of course not," Wanda says dramatically, as if I offended her, "I was at first but. . .I understand. . ." she trails off, a shrug in her voice along with one from her shoulders, "but you're back. I knew you wouldn't be gone for long." All of a sudden, Wanda looks over my shoulder for something, and when her expression changes from content to dispirit, I knew what—or rather—who she was looking at.

Through the glass windows behind me, I turn around to witness Pietro standing on a balcony. He stands by himself, facing the view of dark green trees and a sun set. His arms lay at his sides and he holds his head high. Even though he seems like he would be enjoying the view, we both can tell he is in discomfort. And. . .it's because of me.

"You know he can be dramatic," Wanda tells me. "He won't be mad at you forever."

I turn back to Wanda but she continues staring through the glass, shaking her head at her twin. She locks eyes with me and offers a small, hopeful smile. I know she's trying to comfort me, but it's not working when I'm the cause of Pietro's distress. "But I don't know how long he'll stay mad at me," I tell her.

"Just give him time," she recommends, "he needs to get used to the fact that you're back."

I roll my eyes. I'm sorry, but time is not what I'm offering. "Wanda, these feelings I have for him, I have been burying them inside of me for years. I thought it through many times when I was gone and still, I didn't realize what I felt for him. But when I did, all I could think about was the moment we would reunite." I pause to take a breath, running my hands through my hair. I don't want to pay much attention to Wanda's reaction to my sudden outburst so I decide to keep going. "I am finally allowing myself to feel emotions that scare the crap out of me. It makes me feel different from myself. I want to feel this. I want him. I'm ready to let him know that I feel the same."

Now that I've said what I needed to, I focus on Wanda's facial expression. Her eyes are wide, her mouth open. I've never talked to Wanda like that. I've never talked to anyone like that before. "You have to talk to him," is all she says, urgently, "You have to tell him that." The next thing I know, Wanda is turning me around and using her hands to shove me towards the windows. I have never seen her this eager.