Marvel One Shots

Pietro: Bloom

Ellie was in her room again. Steve and the rest of the team, minus the missing Bruce Banner, the world's away god and the Falcon, could hear her music blaring through the walls. It was some random rock band that even Tony hadn't heard of. They knew she didn't like rock music as well; she was a total R&B alternative chick. The Neighbourhood, Arctic Monkeys, Of Monsters and Men and the Cage the Elephant might as well be the only bands in the world for Ellie. Although the nights spent along trying to burst her eardrums have become a new tradition for her within the last month or so.

Ellie's fuzzy head hurt from the music. Her stomach was stirring with discomfort from the large amount of alcohol inside. She'd been stealing as much of the poisonous liquid she could and then consuming as much as she could. She tried to tell herself it wasn't a problem, but deep down she knew it was.

The bottle in Ellie's hand slipped to the ground. She could hear it guzzling out and soaking into the carpet, but she made no move to retrieve it. Her bed was simply too soft to move.

Tony was fed up with her behavior. No, they were all fed up with her behavior, even Wanda.

"This is getting fucking ridiculous. She'd going to hurt herself," Tony looked at the rest of his team.

"Tony," Natasha hushed and glanced at Wanda. She knew what was up.

Wanda met her gaze with a pitying one. She didn't need to read Ellie's mind to know what caused the sudden extrovert to become a hermit. She also knew that Ellie had been drinking, but so far had told no one and had made no move to stop her.

It was the anniversary of the defeat of Ultron. No one else really remembered except for Wanda, Clint and the soul mate of Pietro, Ellie.

Everyone is born into a world without colour. A world of shades and despair. You spend your life listening to people describe colour. The spicy scent of cinnamon was always a red, the briny waves of the oceans where the essence of blue, brown, the ripe sting of rot, and the crisp tranquil fragrance of rain described the bright greens of wildlife. However, colour to Ellie was so much more heightened and sharp, an indescribable sight and feel. Red was more than spicy; it was fierce and held a delicate type of fear on its shoulders, unease. Brown was cloudy and strict; it was such a calloused colour, one without passion, boring. Green was the closest to description; it held the fresh feel, but as well as a cruel sense of harsh spirit, always waiting to strike like a snake. Blue was so much more fragile than Ellie had expected, like a baby bird, soft and fluttering. Blue was a brittle unstable thing, always wobbling into other colours and mixing, never the same and feebly trying to stay strong in such bright colours. It was everything Ellie loved and feared.

Ellie's life was strange one, everyone in it held a temporary light and for some reason only Ellie seemed to see it. How the world was balanced on the tip of a knife, a drop at each side and where even resting in top was a hassle with the thin blade digging into its feet, tempting it to fall. The world may have not fallen, but Ellie had, right off the side of the earth and past the knife, to the bottom of a bottomless pit, and splattered; red on the black expanse like a canvas.

You only got one, one chance at seeing color, one person that is literally your other half. One chance to reach out and touch their skin, to see the world bloom with colour. One chance, then when they're gone, so is the colour.

Ellie remembered it as if she had a movie set out in her mind for her to watch. Running down a street, the soft blue, passionate red and juicy green cars around her. She had been running to help Wanda protect the key. The air was thin and she couldn't breathe very well, but that didn't stop her. She's stood close to Wanda and took out any robot that became too close to them. Ellie was still fascinated with the redness of Wanda's magic, so delicate and fine, yet so powerful and destructive. Then smooth as water the world slowly become grey again, but the red of the magic remained the longest, as if it were showing her the beating of Pietro's heart. She'd watched the edges of the swirling magic became black and translucent. It had been pulled away slowly like his life, yet it felt as if her heart had been ripped right out, leaving jagged edges and splintering corners. Then all at once, it was all gone. Nothing, but shades.