[ 𝟏 ] 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 | 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

𝟏𝟒.

Our time in Sokovia drew close as the citizens boarded lifeboats for transport to the Helicarrier. Once every civilian had evacuated the area, our mission would be accomplished, and we could finally return home.

Pietro and I positioned ourselves reasonably from the departing boats, ensuring everyone safely embarked, leaving no one behind. Witnessing families and friends reuniting was a bittersweet moment — they were sad to leave their homes but relieved to be safe and alive. Amidst the crowd, one particular person captured my attention: the young girl from earlier, accompanied by her mother, father, and younger brother. She was in one of the boats, enthusiastically calling out "Miss Banshee!" and waving in my direction. A tear welled up in my eye as I reciprocated the gesture, watching her boat securely reach the Helicarrier. Knowing that she and her family were now officially safe brought a sense of fulfillment. Despite the world's mistrust toward "enhanced individuals" like myself and the rest of the team, witnessing the rescue of thousands, especially that innocent little girl who reminded me of my past, reaffirmed why the Avengers fulfilled their duty instead of hiding away. The world needed us, whether they were ready to accept it.

"Stella?" Pietro's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I realized he had been observing me the entire time. "I still feel like my sister and I have much to make up to you — and the rest of the Avengers, of course." He scratched the back of his head. "By the way, I heard New York City has some fantastic pizza. I was wondering if—"

"If we could grab some pizza?" I interjected. "Yes, absolutely. I'd love to."

An awkward silence hung between Pietro and me. We were so accustomed to bantering and teasing each other that any semblance of a "normal" conversation felt peculiar and entirely out of the ordinary. Yet, paradoxically, I found myself enjoying it. This side of him was something I wanted.

"I can't wait to make fun of you and eat pizza simultaneously," Pietro declared suddenly.

"I can't wait to smack you with the entire pie," I shot back. Ah, there it is.

Rather than countering with another sassy comeback, Pietro winked and dashed off to assist an elderly couple in boarding one of the boats. I rolled my eyes, smiling, and continued overseeing the evacuation. Everything seemed fine until a woman's frantic shouts echoed from one of the boats. "Costel? Costel?!" I scanned the area, spotting a child trapped under debris in the distance. Presuming the distant voice belonged to the child's mother, I muttered, "Oh, crap." I started running toward the struggling child. "Hey, it's okay, I'm coming!" I shouted to reassure him.

"I've got him," Clint stated, running past me. "Get yourself onto a boat, Stell."

"Thanks, Clint," I managed, slightly out of breath. As I began to back away, I kept a vigilant eye on Clint, ensuring he didn't require assistance. He extracted Costel from the rubble, prompting me to turn around and head toward the boats. But, as usual, things were never that simple. A thunderous sound of gunfire emanated from the distance, causing my stomach to plummet like a rock in a glass bucket. The source of the gunfire was the Quinjet, and the only logical assumption for the pilot was Ultron.

The gunfire rapidly approached, leaving no time for contemplation. Panic set in as I had to think on my feet. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Clint and the young child were right behind me. I needed to do everything in my power to keep them safe. Costel had his mother waiting for him just a few feet away, and Clint had a family eagerly anticipating his return home. I had to act. I had to be the one to take the risk.

As the gunfire closed in, my body trembled and tensed. Following my instincts, I shut my eyes and let out a scream, hoping the sound waves would either slow down the bullets or render them ineffective. A sharp pain seared through my leg, stomach, and shoulder before a rush of wind swept in front of me. My scream was short-lived, draining a significant amount of energy. Lowering my head, I opened my eyes to find blood streaming down my arm, lower torso, and leg. I must have been hit. Swiftly, I turned my gaze to the right toward Clint and Costel, who appeared unharmed. However, their attention wasn't on me but on something in front of me.

Pietro.

"You didn't see that coming?" Pietro weakly remarked, his disoriented gaze intensifying my pain. His body bore about a dozen bullet wounds, causing my heart, stomach, and everything in between to plummet. My legs felt weak, not just from my injuries but because every conceivable disaster was unfolding simultaneously. I couldn't process it all in an instant. When Pietro fell, I sank to my knees beside him.

"No, no, no," I whispered, gently moving Pietro's platinum locks away from his eyes. "You better not be playing a prank on me. You better not," I stammered, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Pietro's initial look of shock transformed into disappointment. "I guess we can't get pizza," he croaked. "I didn't want to break that promise."

"No, we're still getting that damn pizza. You're going to be fine." I began to cry profusely, tears cascading from my cheeks onto his bloody shirt. My lower lip quivered, and my hands shook as I stared into Pietro's eyes, observing the fading vibrancy in the frosted specks. The first time I had been this close to him, he had me pinned against a wall. Now, his blood was soaking into my clothes as I struggled to keep him alive. Panic set in as I noticed his eyes beginning to close. "Hey! Let's think about something positive, okay?" I racked my brain for a moment. "Oh! That girl you have a crush on. Did you get to save her today like I told you to do?"

"I just did," Pietro whispered, his chapped lips forming a weak smile.

My stomach plummeted, and my breath caught. The 'girl from home' was me all along? I had no time to process his revelation as his eyes began to roll to the back of his head.

"Pietro! Oh god. You can't—" I felt myself growing weak, momentarily forgetting the extent of my injuries from the heavy bleeding in my shoulder and leg. Losing control of my body, I toppled over onto my side. Darkness crept into my vision, accompanied by Clint's muffled shouts, and I realized I was now lying next to the boy who had secretly harbored feelings for me all this time. The boy whose frosted eyes once locked onto mine. The boy who was now gone.