Quiver | Pietro Maximoff ✔

Chapter Sixteen

"Was that Josh?" I could see in Bruce's pained expression that he was holding his Hulk back, "what did he say?"

I gulped. "He's coming in three days. He's taking me to London for at least a fortnight, or so he says."

His face fell, and I could see the green vein growing larger across his forehead as his eyes grew shiny with tears. "Okay," he nodded. "Okay, but we can figure this out."

The door opened again, and Peter slid into the room, skidding across the floor in a pair of Heelys. He attempted to smile at me, before handing an envelope to Pietro. "This is for you. Arrived today."

Pietro frowned, "I didn't order anything."

Raven flicked her hair over her shoulder, "Maybe it's fanmail."

"Will you please stop?" Pietro snapped. He hadn't taken a liking to Raven since her riddles of Wanda being alive, and he hadn't let Loki persuade him into giving her a chance.

"What?" She shrugged, "I'm not into you. God, your sister definitely got the looks, and the brains, come to think of it-"

"I swear to-"

"Pietro." I grabbed onto his arm as he sent a glare over his shoulder to Ravens smirk. "Just open it."

He sighed, and wrapped me into his arm as he slid the envelope open. He pulled out a single sheet of paper, and he flipped it over to show an image...

A horrible, sickening photograph.

I'd seen several photos of Wanda since I began living at the facility. Pietro has framed photos carefully displayed in his room, and Clint had shown me one he kept safe in his wallet.

Since we realised she was still alive, I'd seen pictures of her stuck up during planning sessions, as we attempted to devise a plan on how to give me up, then get both Wanda and I out of my fathers clutches.

But no photograph of her looked like this.

She was wearing dark clothes, in a dark room. She was tied to a chair, her body folded down with her back arched and face screaming up at the ceiling.

One lit lightbulb hanging from above cast darkened shadows over her face, but it was clear that the skin on her forehead that was stretching over thick, growing veins, were tinted green.

She was turning into a Hulk.

Pietro dropped the photograph, and his arm fell from my side as he spun around and threw up into the sink.

Nobody stopped him.

I gently stood behind him, and rubbed his back soothingly as the last of the Avengers finally entered the kitchen - expecting an update from Josh but were instead met with an image of their missing friend being tortured.

Pietro leant back, shuddering and shaking through gasped breaths as his breathing grew hyperventilated.

"Pietro, listen to me." I kept rubbing his back with one hand as I managed to pour a glass of water.

"Copy my breathing okay?"

"They... those... and she... she... Wanda- Eliza that's-"

"I know." I forced his hand to wrap around the glass, then sucked in a deep breath, "one." I blew the air out of my mouth, then sucked in a second breath, "two."

I repeated the cycle once I counted to five, and after the third round Pietro hesitantly began counting with me, in between sips of the cool water.

He shakily collapsed into my side, and I wiped the string of spit that had landed on his chin after he'd brought his lunch up. I enveloped him in my arms, and twisted my feet so I could see the Avengers swarming around the photograph.