You're an angel, tell me you're never leaving
'Cause you're the first thing I know I can believe in
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Long chapter! That's my "I'm sorry for the previous chapter." Enjoy this one!
I was lying on my bed completely exhausted. I felt so bad that I couldn't even raise my hand and straighten my hair that was so carelessly on my face.
What Wanda did to me was akin to torture.
She was hustling through my mind without permission and seemed to take out the soul with every movement of her finger. It was as if a hole had formed in my chest from how quickly everyone accused me, even without understanding the situation.
"She's not lying," Wanda walked away from me a few steps. I was utterly exhausted, depressed and angry.
Tony took a few steps toward my bed and leaned over. "Then how is all this possible?"
I sobbed. It was shameful and embarrassing to stay like that in front of everyone because I didn't know why they treat me like that.
"Her body keeps memories of how she moved to our house," Wanda wrapped herself in a claret shawl, "But for some strange reason, she doesn't remember about it."
"Can you recover her memories?" I avoided looking into Pietro's eyes. Judging by what they say, I tried to kill him.
"No. There is something that doesn't allow me. Perhaps this is some mechanism. You should examine her," she turned to Stark.
It feels like I'm not in this room at all. Who would have thought that my friends could behave like that? But I did not blame them. I would say the same if I saw that someone was trying to finish off my dear person. Especially in Wanda's case. Pietro wasn't just her brother. Without him, she couldn't have survived in this world.
A visitor ran his card over the door handle. I didn't even turn when the bed was bent from the other side, and the uninvited guest said:
"I brought you some food."
Immediately, my eyes fixed on the grey morning sky. For some reason, it seems to me that the weather in the early morning was better than now. I can see my face correctly in the reflection of panoramic glasses, and I immediately want to turn away: the skin was as white as the sheet on which I slept, my eyes grew dull, the sheets draped over them, and dark hair was arranged in a Crow's Nest hairstyle.
I look terrible, and I look like a witch much more than Wanda.
"You weren't in the morning with everyone," I don't turn to Steve, but I can see this tense expression correctly. I am glad that Rogers didn't see how Wanda laid out all my demons, like cards on a playing table.
"I didn't want to believe that you did it consciously or on purpose, to the last," he threw a rug over my shoulders and continued: "And I wasn't mistaken — Stark found something in your head that could well explain your deed." He said precisely to explain, and not to justify. This proves once again that my act is unforgivable. Although, quite possibly, I attach too much meaning to individual words.
"And what is he dug up in me?" I turned sharply to the Captain and looked straight into those clean, slightly sad, but still not darkened by dark eyes.
"In about twenty minutes he will have the courage to ask your forgiveness for all the insults that he told you and will tell you everything," he pushed the tray of fragrant food closer to me and stood up. "And now eat." I smiled at the corner of my lips and guided the captain's muscular figure to the door.
Sitting on my legs, I lifted the slightly steaming glass cover, which Steve carefully put on the food so that it wouldn't cool. Sighing and trying to cheer up, I, with great pleasure, began to eat croutons and orange juice.
Yes, it cost me a considerable effort to look into my own eyes after what I did. To the last, I didn't believe that I could kill Pietro.
I didn't remember it. As if I spent the whole night quietly in my own bed. But I had to believe after I was shown video from surveillance cameras and recordings from the Stark drone.
And I felt like a monster.
Still sitting on the bed in the farthest corner of it, I looked at the wall and thought about what to do next. The trusts between the Avengers and me has disappeared, and when it appears again, I didn't know. And once again I was reminded that I am a monster, a product of something so cruel and inhuman that it is scary to imagine.
When two new guests entered the room, I looked at them like a wolf. I was so worried that even rare nerve cramps appeared. Pepper handed me a cup of soothing chamomile tea and smiled encouragingly. Steve said something about how Tony managed to find something in my brain that made me do it. Stark himself at the moment seemed somehow ... pounded? It was very unusual to see him like this, and I even raised an eyebrow as a sign of surprise.
"Er, ... Y/n," he sat right next to me, but I immediately moved away. I was still in a terrible shock, and it seemed to me that there were only enemies around. "I came to apologise to you." I frowned slightly at two things: first, the tea was insanely hot, and secondly, I was not used to seeing our billionaire coming with apologies.
And Tony was still waiting for an answer.
"I couldn't believe that you turned out to be a traitor," he tiredly rubbed his nose, "But when my drone brought you unconscious, I almost fainted. After all, I trusted you and Pepper the most."
I don't know what made me calmer. Perhaps the tea, and probably from the fact that Tony, still attached to me during this time, although he showed it once a couple of years. And I became connected to him as well. How else? He took care of me in his own way and gave me everything that, within the walls of the guesthouse, seemed like an elusive dream every day.
"It's not your fault for what happened," nevertheless, my voice gained some softness from hot tea and sounded much better now. "Whose fault you want to be, but it's not yours."
"I just wanted to talk about that."
"Tell her, Tony." Pepper threw a warm shawl over my shoulders, and at that moment I finally felt safe.
"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" he gave me his hand, and I, with some reluctance, agreed to leave the room.
Contrary to my expectations, Tony was silent, and he led me toward the take-off area, which didn't add optimism to me. If he now pulls me out on some mission, then I turn around and leave. Is it not clear that now I'm not in the mood at all?
It was an early morning. Today was not the best weather: grey lead clouds hung over the city, now and then threatening to erupt in a shower, and a cold wind pierced to the bones. I was wrapped in a shawl stronger and almost hid in it from the eyes of the twins who were standing very close by.
Now I was in that state when I don't want to see some people at all, but you understand that the meeting is inevitable, and you still try to avoid them, even if you are at arm's length from these very people.
And now I'm not hinting at anyone, no, no.
Not at all.
Wanda Maximoff tried to catch my eye, but I was unbearably ashamed. I may not remember the events that unfolded in the quiet apartment of the twins, but this doesn't remove responsibility from me.
A second of delay from Wanda - and Pietro would have been dead by now. The victim himself was also looking at me, but I couldn't find the strength to raise my eyes.
"Do you condemn me?"
"Y/n ..." Wanda's voice seemed pleading, but it seemed to me that her face expressed contempt. Nerves were on the limit, and I couldn't resist.
"I'm sorry about what happened, okay? I'm sorry," the voice trembled, my eyes stung.
"Y/n?" The captain touched my shoulder. When I turned around, he nodded in the direction of the jet prepared for departure.
"What for?" A lump has stuck in my throat, which made it difficult to speak firmly. As it turns out, it is easy to lose that thin thread connecting friends. It slipped out of my hands the moment I looked into Pietro's face.
It did not express offense, an accusation of all mortal sins or disgust. On the contrary, he felt sorry for me. Regret is the dominant emotion on his face. And then the thought struck me that I still don't know what happened to me that night and under whose influence I was.
"We will tell you everything on board," the door-ladder opened with a quiet hiss with the words of Stark. I decided that I had nothing to lose, and I went inside with everyone else.
"Well, so what did you find out?" it seems to me that at the moment the best solution would be to pretend as if nothing much happened.
"Y/n." I don't like it when my name is pronounced in such a tone. Immediately it becomes clear that something unreal terrible has happened. "While you were unconscious, I scanned your body up and down several times. And found it."
We took off, and my ears were lightly covered. But I heard everything correctly: Tony found some foreign object in my body. Swallowing hard, I turned my eyes to the holographic screen displayed by Stark. "In your brain," he pointed to my head on the hologram, "There is a small microchip that can control you from time to time. I do not know how it was implanted there, but the fact remains that you can be controlled by people who own the control panel from this chip itself."
My jaw literally fell to the floor. It took a few seconds to put all this information inside and realize that right now some other crazy bastard can run this program and make me kill and do all sorts of other unpleasant things.
It was a real frenzy.
"Oh, yes," Tony turned off the screen and, in the most casual manner, was going to tell me more unpleasant details. "I found out why you fainted on the roof. This chip is defective and should have killed you if found, but it just paralyzed and cut you off."
"Are you fucking serious?" I frowned. Yeah, no matter how hard I try to break with my past, it still catches me in a variety of guises. This time, the appearance seems truly insane. "Where are we going?"
"To take out that suicide remote from your brain," Pietro said in a most certain tone, from which I smiled a little. I suddenly realized that it was incredibly stupid for me to sulk at them.
Rogers and Stark retreated forward and discussed something, while actively gesticulating. I was left alone with the twins. Brother and sister looked almost the same as always. But it seemed to me that their faces were drawn and their eyes grew dull.
"I'm sorry," I tried to hide my eyes and not look at them. "Though I didn't did it on purpose, but I put your lives in danger. Can you forgive me?"
"Do you understand that this is not your fault?" How many times have I heard this phrase today? No, it's my fault. I was born that way.
Wanda touched my arm, then smiled encouragingly. Lovely folds gathered around her blue eyes, but I could not stand it and hugged her, buried in the shoulder. She hugged me back, and soon the three of us together with her brother stood to hug each other.
"Thank you," I brushed away the tears of emotion. "We have already arrived, right? What is your plan to attack this highly secure base?" I already had time to study the plan of a huge building passed down by Steve to me.
"I already have one," Tony closed his costume helmet. "Attack," and he flew. I just rolled my eyes.
"He would have invented something new," all I had to do was mutter to myself.
"Don't worry," Pietro winked, making me blush. "We have already invented everything."
"You definitely don't want to join?" I tightened the straps on Wanda's parachute."
"No, no," I waved my hand, "Now you'll not get any practical help from me. I will help you from here." The twins nodded and jumped off. Now I was worried about them much more than last time. The Avengers acted quickly. Even if only four participated in the operation, they were still waiting for success.
Steve and Tony distracted the main forces of the enemy, and the twins took it upon themselves to penetrate inside and turn off this "control panel" itself. Who knows, surely not only I was implanted with such a microchip in "The Twelve Pines." I also had to hide our jet and hang in the air and, if necessary, provide support from a height. I was worried about the guys at every shot coming from the communicator.
It was unbearable to sit idle.
"Y/n, on what floor is this thing?" asked Pietro.
"Just a second," I frowned and concentrated on displaying the location of Quicksilver and this "microchip" on the screen. "Three floors below, right under you." Cursing, he picked up Wanda, judging by the sounds, and the blue flashing dot, which denotes Pietro, swiftly moved down on the screen along with the red one. Other small blacks, which designated opponents, immediately began to approach them, and quickly went out.
I still miss Natasha, Clint, Benner, and Thor. Perfect team.
My dreams were interrupted by a terrible, chilling female scream. Everything inside me stopped. Unpleasant suspicions were immediately confirmed by a male cry on the radio: "Wanda!" Pietro's voice sowed panic in my soul. "No! No!"
"What's with her?" I saw Rogers puffed up from the side of a jet.
"She's badly hurt."
"Quickly we all leave!" Tony ordered.
"Y/n! Soar the plane!" I didn't know how to handle the jet, but somehow I was able to put him in the way and put forward a gurney for Wanda. I hoped that we wouldn't need it.
"What happened?" Wanda, brought by Pietro instantly, was deathly pale. I looked around the wounds and was horrified: Wanda couldn't have survived if we didn't hurry to the tower. "She turned off all the chips one by one while I covered her back," poor Pietro was as pale as his hair. "But I got distracted and missed a few bullets."
With a groan, he literally fell into the passenger seat, but still held his sister's hand.
With all my strength and available means, I tried not to let Wanda lose consciousness. I was scared to lose her.
When we were in New York, we faced another problem: all the best surgeons were at the forum in Beijing. We had no choice.
"NO!" Tony and Steve twisted the hands of Pietro, who was trying to go to the operating room. "Everything happens the same way as in HYDRA! You'll let her die! Don't take her!"
Pietro was crying.
He struggled and was going to follow his sister, but that would only hurt me.
"Pietro Maximoff!" I gave him a good slap. "Take it easy! Your screams won't help Wanda at all! Get a hold of yourself!" My heart broke from this picture. And all this is my fault. I put on my dressing gown, put on a hat with gloves and went to the operating room.
The operation lasted twelve hours. Three times Wanda was on the verge, and three times I saved her. All offenses were forgotten, and now I had a debt. Not even in front of others, but in front of him.
I had to do it.
And I did it.
My legs stumbled, my hands in gloves and blood were shaking, and I, leaning and soiling the railing, leave the operating room.
I was exhausted both mentally and physically. One bullet went a few millimeters from the heart, the other went through the lung, and the third was stuck in the thigh. A scattered and blurred look came across the faces of Steve and Pietro.
They asked for something, but I was even unable neither to hear nor to answer.
"She ... I ..." And fell right into strong hands.
No romance happened. I just fell asleep on the go, that's all.
The calendar shows already the next day. I was lying in my bed on my right side, and after some time, for no reason thinking, I got up. My eyes quickly became accustomed to the darkness, and it was easy for me to find decent clothes. I wanted to eat and, first of all, to drink.
Feet in slippers silently stepped on a perfectly smooth floor. It was quiet, but I didn't want to wake anyone at all. The events of recent times have undoubtedly affected me, and that is why I fell asleep so quickly right on the go. I wonder who caught me - Steve or Pietro?
For some reason, I wanted him in the hands for a second. Contrary to the protests of my stomach, I got only a bottle of water out of the fridge. Taking a considerable pillow, I sat down directly on the floor in front of the window and took a big sip from the bottle.
"Do you like to eat at night?" I shuddered at such suddenness. Turning around, I immediately broke into a contented smile.
"Hello," I show with a gesture to the place next to me. Pietro in a split second turns on a pillow a few inches from me. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I heard your steps," There was a huge city under us, and it seemed amazing that we just sit here in peace and quiet, watching everything, like some kind of gods. "I'd like to thank you, but I'm afraid that a simple thank you, in this case, would be nothing compared to what you did for her. You just have no idea what you did for me."
I looked up at Pietro shyly. "Take care of your sister next time." Then we sat in silence for a few minutes. Sometimes I looked at Pietro, thinking that he didn't see, and he was looking at me, feeling the same way. Suddenly it began to seem to us that we were sitting much closer than at first.
I looked at Pietro, and he looked at me. Our peers lasted too long, and I finally said:
"Kiss me."
Yes, I hoped in vain that he wouldn't see how slowly but surely my cheeks were covered in red. I didn't know why I blurted out this, but this was exactly what I wanted to say.
At first, he stopped for a second, but then he comes closer and tenderly touched my lips. It is entirely possible that I would be ashamed of it in the morning, but the night was created precisely to do something for which, in the light of day, I would have to blush.
However, Pietro quickly gained confidence with my answer. Then, on the balcony, I felt almost nothing, but now I was overwhelmed with tenderness and another yet unfamiliar feeling.
It seemed to me that now I would tear the belly of these stupid butterflies. It doesn't sound excellent, but it was just that. Both excited and red, we couldn't tear ourselves apart. Only when both of us heard a rustle in the corridor, we bounced as if scalded.
"For today, perhaps, it's enough." He nodded, and I picked up the pillow and the salad on the table, which had been pulled out of the fridge beforehand, and went to the bedroom. The mind was still clouded, but I was rather quickly cheered up by the flashed shadow and left a light kiss on his lips, which was accompanied by his whisper: "Thank you for wishing me sweet dreams. But now I will not fall asleep."