"Love Story"

By darthelwig


*** I own nothing. I'm just having fun. ***

A/N: I'm playing a little fast and loose with the timeline, but it should follow Age of Ultron pretty closely. Hope you like it.


The sound of explosions was loud even through the thick walls of the castle.

Wanda bit back a curse as she realized Baron Strucker wasn't going to let them fight. Pietro was angry too, and rightly so. This was what they'd signed up for, the entire reason they had remained after Wanda gained her powers and discovered they had been lied to, that this was Hydra, not SHIELD. They stayed with these Nazis because Hydra could offer them power and opportunity, and now they were being denied the very thing they desired most. Would these men keep none of their promises? So far, she and Pietro had put up with the lies, but no longer. They wanted to fight. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Strucker. She turned her back on him instead, rage burning in her gut at this final act of betrayal.

Beside her, Pietro glared at the men in silent condemnation. His anger fed her own, as closely twined together as they were in her mind. She always felt him, like an undercurrent rippling below her own emotions, a constant tug at her consciousness that she'd grown used to, but now his fury crashed at her awareness, and only heightened her disgust.

They were so ready to be done with Hydra.

It was child's play to slip out of the command center undetected. Everyone was too busy dealing with the Avengers' attack. Surprisingly easy to sneak up on the super soldier, too. She was pretty pleased with herself when she knocked Captain America himself down a staircase, not that it kept him down long, which was a pity. Seeing Strucker standing there, arrogant as always as he watched his creation, watched her, in action, she longed to make him suffer, but she had to leave him to the mercy of the Avengers. There was no time to waste on revenge against the man who lied to them so readily, and about so much. No, she had bigger fish to fry.

Tony Stark was there. Close enough to punish. Close enough to hurt.

She found him in the secret sub-level area that she and Pietro had discovered shortly after their unfortunate realization of who they'd actually let experiment on their bodies. There were no secrets from Wanda after she acquired her powers. She wouldn't let there be. She wanted to know these people who had, so far, lied to their faces about everything they stood for. When confronted with his deceit, Strucker had smiled and pointed out that she and Pietro had gotten what they wanted so far, and thus had very little to complain about. Hydra's methods left something to be desired, but the results had been gratifying. Wanda had to admit, her abilities were better than she could've imagined. She had never felt so powerful, or so capable of changing the world.

And now that power rose within her at the very idea of striking out at Stark. This was the day they'd dreamt of since they were ten years old, scared and alone, clinging to each other in the rubble that had been their home, with nothing but the dead for company. She'd been waiting and wishing for this moment since the day the Stark name entered their lives. She didn't hesitate.

Scarlet flowed easily from her fingers, seeking Stark's pain.

She found it, in the deaths of the people around him, the destruction of the Avengers, and his own failure to prevent it. She felt his need for control, his drive, his horror at the thought of losing people he cared about. This man was so desperately afraid, all the time, and fear could consume you. It could destroy you, and he lived so close to the edge already. All he needed was a little push.

Wanda was more than happy to give him the experience of his nightmares made real. He'd done the same for her.

The sheer force of his reaction, his utter panic, took her by surprise, snatched the breath from her lungs. Even she, with all the experience Hydra had given her at ripping men's minds apart in the name of 'training', was awed by the magnitude of what had just happened. She watched him from the shadows as he tried to slow his racing heart and rid himself of the vision she had granted him. He didn't see her, couldn't see past the fear in his own eyes, not even when Pietro stepped up next to her.

She smiled when Pietro questioned her, because of course they were going to let him take the scepter. Stark would attempt to use its power for his own aims, and he would destroy himself. Not even Stark could control such a thing. That Hydra had managed to use it, and give two people power out of so many volunteers, was nothing short of a miracle. Wanda knew that she and Pietro were lucky to even be alive after what they'd subjected themselves to. Everyone else was dead. Stark had no hope of taming such a powerful and unknowable object, especially at this moment, when he was almost drowning in his own terror.

Let the man take the damn thing. They had little use for it now.

A meaningful look shared with her disgruntled brother, then Pietro had her in his arms, and they were zipping back to their little rooms, gathering their meager possessions. They didn't have much, just a few changes of clothes, really. There hadn't been much left after the bomb that hit their building, and neither of them had ever grown attached to material things anyway. They had each other, and that was all they ever needed.

They didn't really know what to do with themselves when they left. Total freedom had become a foreign thing to them, after so long under Hydra's thumb. They spent time wandering the streets of Novi Grad, getting a feel for how the city had changed in their absence, enjoying having no one to answer to but each other.

Wanda breathed easy for the first time in what felt like forever. The dirty streets were still familiar, still home. She hadn't changed so much as to become unrecognizable and ill fitting to the place they loved so dearly. As many bad things that had happened here, as much as they'd gone through in their short lives, this was still their home, and they loved it. She loved it.

Still, there was a part of her that refused to relax completely, that seemed to be in a holding pattern. They still had work to do. Stark was still out there, and who knew what had become of him after taking the scepter. Their country was still being torn apart by greed and war. They'd only just put their feet on the path. The journey had just begun.

She had no idea where to start.

Pietro was still seething about her decision to let Stark go. He was willing to follow her lead for now, but her brother was an impulsive and passionate man. His desire for vengeance against Stark had always burned bright and hot in his heart. Neither of them would ever forget the days they spent trapped in the wreckage of their apartment, grieving their parents, their lives, and absolutely sure they were going to die. Pietro would only wait so long, and then nothing would keep him from Stark's throat. Not when they'd just been so close to the man, and renewed hatred was so fresh in his mind.

Wanda didn't really know what to do. She was quiet, and Pietro let her think, preferring to interact with the people around them while she worked through whatever her problem was. He was good that way. She watched him, weighing their options, trying to find more information on where they could start in the process of making things right for Sokovia. They'd been out of touch for so long, and the faces behind the wars tended to change. She needed to catch up.

The feeling of freedom didn't last. She grew tense, stressed, as time went on. She watched Pietro distract himself by playing Robin Hood. His thieving had always been a sore point between them. He tended to act first, think later, and his carelessness had led to some very close calls over the years. It irritated her that he went right back to those ways now that they were out of Strucker's hands, and now that he had his speed behind him, he took even more risks than before. Her worry over him was just another weight on her shoulders.

Her temper finally threatened to snap when she walked by him and caught him flirting with yet another woman while he distributed his stolen goods. Flirting. While she was struggling, trying to decide their next move, he was acting like he hadn't a care in the world.

He really didn't deserve the waspish remark she made as she walked past them, about Pietro giving gifts to all the girls of Sokovia. She regretted it as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but she wouldn't take it back. Not when Pietro's stealing truly did worry her. It was one thing to steal medicine for those who couldn't get it otherwise, another thing entirely for him to risk his life just to woo a pretty girl or two.

He ran after her, trying to play it off as a joke, but she wasn't having it.

"You keep stealing, you're going to get shot," she snapped. He huffed, dismissive of her concerns, and she hit him on the back. He could be so frustrating. "I mean it! At speed, nothing can touch you," she admitted, "but standing still-"

"Do you think I want to be?" he said, rounding on her, his anger flaring. "You said wait. I'm waiting. I don't know for what." She was taken aback by the sheer force of the frustration rolling off of him. She blinked, forcing his emotions away from her. "We had Stark helpless. All these years and you..."

She never found out what he was about to say. They were distracted when the girl Pietro had been flirting with ran past them yelling at her little brother, and when the boy told them the Iron Man was waiting for them in the church, well... they put their differences aside, a united front once again, as it should be.

Wanda wasn't prepared for the being that awaited them in that church.

She stepped forward to try and determine what it was they were walking into, and was frustrated when she couldn't get a read on the man. It was like looking into nothing at all, like he wasn't even there, and she'd never encountered that before. He was speaking, she had to be able to sense him, even if she couldn't read him, but no.

And then he revealed himself, and she understood why her powers had failed her.

This wasn't a man, this was... something else. More than a machine, that much was obvious. Something, someone, caught between robot and human. A being made of metal that thought, felt, and acted like a person. She was immediately intrigued. By his very existence, yes, and her hand in his creation, but also because she couldn't feel him. He was someone she couldn't predict, couldn't affect, couldn't feel the very worst parts of whether she wanted to or not. It was a breath of fresh air in a life she hadn't realized had become so stifling.

And his goals. She was a bit suspicious. After all, having an ally with such common goals just pop up out of nowhere seemed a gift from heaven, and if there was one thing she and Pietro had learned over the years, it was that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Their betrayal by Hydra had been sure to reinforce that message.

But the longer he talked, the more she believed, until she found herself willingly walking into his lair, her brother by her side. They listened to his plan, and she watched his many bodies go about their work, amazed. She was brought back to the present by Pietro's anger, once again lapping at the shores of her consciousness. He told Ultron their story, something they never spoke about to anyone, exposing a pain they kept private and hidden. And Ultron seemed to understand, for all that he was made of metal, not flesh, and had no parents. He was understanding of their pain, and seemed almost proud of their strength at having survived despite all odds.

And then he brought his hand to her face, almost touching her, cradling her like something precious, and the wall around her heart cracked. No one but her brother had ever held her so tenderly, or looked at her like she had worth beyond that of a weapon. He admired her, and she felt a blush creeping over her cheeks, and hoped Pietro didn't notice.

In that moment, she knew she would follow him.


He had found the twins in the files he stole from the Avengers. They seemed like exactly what he needed- angry, powerful. He spent some time examining the pictures, rewatching the video clips SHIELD had cobbled together, even searching for more on the web. What he found pleased him. They were true believers, dedicating their lives to improving their country, and definitely no fans of the Avengers or of Tony Stark. It seemed like fate that they should meet.

It didn't hurt that they were arresting in their anger, the images capturing his attention in ways he didn't fully understand. He kept the images of them close in his mind, and examined them often, his gaze straying more and more to the female Maximoff. Her power was, if reports could be believed, beyond compare. She would be an excellent ally in his quest.

His quest, "peace in our time." With everything he had viewed, peace seemed like a distant dream, but he was determined to fulfill his reason for being. He would become the savior of humankind, a true god they could look to for hope. He would purge the world and remake it in his image, and true peace would reign, but to accomplish that goal, the Avengers had to go.

The Maximoffs could assist with that, and probably would, given a little push. He could provide that for them, hope for a better future, motivation to see his plans through to fruition. And if he withheld the true scope of his designs from them, well... they didn't need to know everything right away. Give them time to adjust to the idea. They'd come around. They'd see how his way was truly the only path to peace. It was inevitable. They were meant to be allies.

He covered himself as best he could before talking to the boy who would deliver his request for a meeting to the twins. No need to risk scaring the boy, though he seemed to take it in stride and appeared a little excited at meeting an "iron man," as he instructed the boy to call him. The younger they were, the easier humans were to influence, which gave him high hopes for the Maximoffs. They were still quite young by human standards, only nineteen, and based on all the information he could find online, once a teenager believed in a cause, they burned with all the fires of youth in support of it. That's exactly what he needed.

They were understandably nervous upon meeting him. The female, Wanda, attempted to read him, as he had predicted she would. Her eyes were dangerous, promising retribution should things go badly, but in her words, he sensed a soul as weary of the world as he was. It made sense. It would be exhausting to be constantly exposed to the worst humanity had to offer. He was surprised she hadn't already thought of purging the world herself. It would lessen her burden. He found the idea of her carrying the weight of that on her shoulders somewhat distressing, for some reason he couldn't quite explain.

He approached her, revealed himself, declaring himself "more than a man" and exactly what she needed and desired. Perhaps he came on a little too strong. She recoiled from him for a moment before recovering her facade of confidence. The longer he spoke, the more he explained, the more comfortable she became, and the less fear he saw in her eyes. That pleased him more than he expected.

Pietro kept his distance, staying suspicious and aggressive. He had expected no less from the young man, so used to having to protect both himself and his sister, and so angry at everyone. Men were the more aggressive sex, and Pietro was a picture perfect example. He positively bristled with rage and disbelief. Wanda would be the more dangerous when threatened, as females usually were, but Pietro was her stalwart guardian, and he would need to win the boy over before either twin would follow him.

He managed to convince them to come back to the castle with him and see his strength for themselves. Wanda was, of course, the first to speak up, the first to question, though he thought he detected a hint of fascination there, rather than wariness. It surprised him. Perhaps she had more vision than he had originally given her credit for.

He was also surprised to see a hint of dissension between the twins, as Pietro expressed his disgust with the plan of not immediately killing the Avengers. The boy was bloodthirsty, he'd give him that. Wanda simply gave her brother an exasperated look, letting him speak his piece, but clearly expressing her distaste for her brother's more direct methods. Ultron decided that this was definitely a woman he could use, someone with vision to match his own, someone who could see the bigger picture.

She seemed surprised by her brother's willingness to share the source of their hatred for Stark with him, the pain so strong that she couldn't bear to look at him, but the story brought her own fury to light, and when she finally turned to face him, Ultron was intrigued by the red that lit her from within, the passion that drove her. He listened to Pietro, but he observed Wanda, her being the more compelling of the two to him, and the stronger. Pietro Maximoff's anger flared hot and burned bright, but her fury was smoldering embers, hidden but powerful. He could definitely see why the two of them had lived through Strucker's experiments when so many others had not. How many people could claim that kind of deep seated hatred that fueled your drive to conquer and survive?

These were exactly the two people he needed.

He couldn't stop himself from showing some favoritism, though, reaching out for Wanda, inexorably drawn to her. It discomfited Pietro to see his treatment of her, he could tell, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The boy would fall in line. He'd given in. Barely, but he had. Now all Ultron had to do was keep them happy, and the key to that happiness was Wanda. Pietro would follow his sister anywhere. If she believed, if she stayed, then Pietro would as well, and Ultron desperately wanted her to stay. He told himself it was because he could use her power. She would be a formidable foe for the Avengers. He couldn't completely deny the fact, however, that his desire went deeper than that, in directions he hadn't anticipated.

He wanted her for her. Unbelievable as that was, he could desire someone for reasons other than to suit his purpose. It was a humbling realization. He was not prepared for this, and so he sent the twins to settle in as best they could in the castle, trying to turn that traitorous part of his mind back to his work.

He wasn't completely successful, but he would never admit it.


It was always difficult for her to sleep. Pietro did much better with that, able to sleep no matter where they were, but she couldn't make her mind shut down. Pietro often accused her of overthinking things, and she could admit he was probably right, but knowledge of the problem didn't help her deal with the problem.

They'd been up most of the night, and she was exhausted. Early morning light streamed in through the windows in a hazy gray. She should be in bed now, but it just wasn't going to happen. She was too keyed up.

She decided to wander the base. It was disquieting to walk halls that had once been filled with people, now bare and silent. She kept expecting to turn the corner and be faced with more guards, more soldiers, more scientists, but the castle was empty. Ultron occupied the lower levels, but the rest was abandoned, and would probably stay so for a very long time. The people of Novi Grad avoided this place like the plague, thanks to Hydra, and that would be slow to change. It was better that way, anyway. This place held secrets and memories and pain.

It was lonely at the moment, and Wanda eventually wandered back down into the depths of the lower levels. Back to where Ultron continued his work, building an army. She watched for a while, hoping to be lulled into sleep by the endless, repetitive nature of it. It was fairly noisy, but there was something calming to her about the orderly, controlled way Ultron's Sentinels worked. It soothed the chaotic mess in her head. So she sat in a semi-quiet corner and simply observed the goings on around her.

"You should be asleep," Ultron said from beside her, and she jumped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine. I'm just not used to people being able to sneak up on me," she said, hand pressed to her chest, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"I can see how that would be disconcerting," Ultron agreed. He gestured towards the Sentinels. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," she said, deciding not to clarify. Ultron didn't seem to mind, though. He gazed down at her, his red eyes and metal face surprisingly expressive, and he looked decidedly nervous. About what, she couldn't even imagine.

"Your brother thinks we should be taking a more direct route in dealing with the Avengers."

"Yes, but we aren't ready to fight them yet. Pietro is impulsive, but he will listen to me, and you've convinced him for now. He's anxious, though. He is a man of action, as they say. He doesn't like to wait. He never has, though he has grown more impatient since gaining his powers," she said. Why was she telling him all this? She'd decided to be tight lipped, and now here she was running off at the mouth.

Ultron just nodded his head, looking sympathetic, then he knelt down, bringing his hulking form to her level.

"But you understand," he said, staring intently into her eyes.

"I do, and I prefer it this way. I want Stark to hurt before he dies," she admitted. "Does that bother you?"

"No. He hurt you, took everything from you. It makes sense," Ultron said. "That's what he does, what the Avengers do. They destroy. That's why we're going to rid the world of them."

The solemn promise in his words stirred something within her, something almost akin to joy, and to Wanda's horror, she started to tear up. "Good," she said quietly, her voice fierce with emotion. Ultron reached out, brought one cool, metal finger to her face, surprisingly gently. She went still and tense as he stroked her skin, catching her tears as they fell, but when he began to pull away, she grabbed his hand and pressed her cheek against his palm. "Why are you being kind to me?" she asked.

"Because I want to. Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," she said, letting go of him so she could wipe her face. She expected pity, which she didn't want, or some sort of rejection at her weakness, but all she saw was concern. "Thank you."

You're welcome," he replied.

Ultron went back to his project, and Wanda watched him work for a while longer, then slipped off to bed. This time she fell right to sleep, her mind at peace.


Ultron spent much of the morning dragging his feet finalizing his plans while the twins slept. He had decided fairly quickly on the best order to hit all of the necessary stops they would need to make in search of materials, after factoring in the limitations and requirements of the human body. Even an enhanced human body needed rest, and that would slow down the procurement process, but he was certain they could handle any trouble that arose. The Avengers would have no advance warning, and no reason to suspect his targets, so he didn't expect to meet any resistance from them quite yet.

Still, he knew they should be on their way as quickly as possible. They had a lot to do. He needed to wake the twins so they could be on their way, but he kept putting it off, obsessively reviewing his plans instead. He would go over them until he reached the point where he knew he should be waking his new allies, where he thought to himself that Pietro had certainly had enough sleep by now.

But Wanda hadn't, and that changed things for him. It was ridiculous, but true. He didn't want to disturb her, when he knew she'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. It shouldn't matter to him. She could certainly function on that amount of rest, and could probably sleep while they traveled if it came to that, but some part of him still resisted.

He wouldn't, couldn't, do that to her. It was maddening. How could he be the firm, guiding hand the world needed if he was soft on one human being? This was completely illogical, went totally against the plan, and he needed to put a stop to it immediately. He raged against himself for his own weakness.

But he let her sleep.

He wondered if she would notice this small mercy.

He wondered why he cared.

The twins woke around noon. Pietro was filled with restless energy, and expressed extreme impatience to be on their way. Wanda, however, pulled him aside at the first opportunity.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what?" he asked, deciding to play dumb. Better to see what she had to say first.

"For letting us sleep. I know we have probably delayed your plans, and it was kind of you to allow it." The smile she gave him was kind and a bit shy, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks.

"Worth it," he said, quite seriously, and Wanda ducked her head. He found her bashfulness appealing. Charming, even.

"Are we going, or what?" Pietro said, zipping over to them. He looked between Ultron and his sister expectantly, and Ultron found himself irritated with the boy for his interruption. He shoved that feeling away and tried to focus on the work at hand.

The first thing they needed to do was gather all the raw materials he needed to complete his machine and his army. The twins traveled on their own, Wanda cradled in her brother's arms, and Ultron took the opportunity to run some self diagnostics. Obviously, there was something wrong with him. There was no other excuse for the way he was behaving towards the female Maximoff.

Unfortunately, his efforts turned up no answers. He was running at peak efficiency, no errors or internal problems to speak of. He would've felt better if there were. He didn't like this feeling of not understanding, this lack of control. Without a cause, he couldn't fix it.

The Maximoffs were very efficient partners in crime. Pietro made it easy to search and disable weapon defense systems, and could take out guards in the blink of an eye. With Wanda at his side, they were unstoppable. While her brother overran the bases, Wanda took control. Ultron found he had very little to do other than transport the materials back to the fortress. His Sentinel bodies took care of that, leaving his main body to watch over the twins as they worked.

Their speed was limited only by Pietro's physical limitations. When he got tired, they let him rest. Eventually, the twins took him up on his offer to carry them between targets at times to save Pietro's strength. They'd been hesitant at first, but the boy was wearing down after so many days of pushing himself, and Wanda insisted. Ultron knew she would do whatever it took to protect her brother.

It wasn't quite comfortable for the twins to be carried, as he wasn't built with that functionality in mind, but they made do. And Ultron found himself enjoying it for no other reason than that he got to hold Wanda close.

He tried not to question that too much.

The twins were wrecked by the time they made it back to Sokovia. As soon as they reached the castle, they collapsed in their beds, leaving Ultron to his work. He was very satisfied with the progress they were making now. There was only one place left on his list, and the twins would need to be well rested for that. Klaue was a dangerous man. He would hate for the twins to be hurt in their fatigued state. In her fatigued state. The Avengers were surely on to them by now, and they would need to be prepared for a confrontation.

Once he had everything going smoothly, Ultron decided to check on his Maximoffs. Ducking into Pietro's room revealed a boy so deeply asleep an earthquake probably wouldn't have woken him. He was sprawled over his cot, still fully dressed even down to his shoes. No telling how long the boy would be asleep.

He made his way into the room Wanda had chosen as her own, to find her tucked into her bed half under the covers, her long legs exposed and bare. He hadn't seen so much of her skin before, and while he found the human form quite ridiculously fragile, she was also extremely beautiful. From the way her dark hair trailed over one shoulder, to her parted lips, from her slender, graceful fingers to the shapely length of her legs, she was exquisite.

He cursed himself for being so weak, eager as he found himself to see more of her. He was supposed to be logical, damn it, but he was also able to feel and desire. For that, he cursed Tony Stark, who had to have given him some sort of flawed programming to begin with. The man had a weakness for a pretty face.

Touching this woman was not an option. Having her was not a goal worthy of his attention.

But perhaps, if his ultimate form was more human, she would want him with the same sort of persistent desire he felt for her. He had definite plans for his new body, but a few allowances could be made. For instance, red seemed to be a color she appreciated. It was a color of power and dominance, which he liked. Perhaps he could work that into his design.

He watched her and began to plan.


Pietro woke in a foul mood, and Wanda was done with it.

"I don't see why we have to stay here with him. Haven't we done enough yet?" he grumbled.

"We agreed on this already. Why is this even a discussion? He will help us destroy Tony Stark and the Avengers. We are changing the world, Pietro! Just like we always wanted. Why are you so unhappy?" she asked, exasperated.

"He killed Strucker," her brother muttered. She sighed at his obvious lie.

"You hated Strucker as much as I did. Try again," she said. She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Pietro finally admitted.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, even as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She'd sort of noticed it too, but she wasn't about to admit that to her brother. He could be too overprotective sometimes. She could certainly handle herself, and she honestly didn't mind the attention. Sort of welcomed it, really. She distracted herself from that train of thought by busying her hands throwing together a quick meal for them.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," Pietro said. "His eyes follow you. He watches you constantly." Her brother's eyes were narrowed as he stared at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied casually. Maybe too casually, because Pietro scoffed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You like it, don't you? You like him. What the hell, Wanda? What is wrong with you? He's not even human!"

That hurt. His judgment hurt. Maybe because he'd hit the nail on the head. She really did like it, and she liked Ultron, robot or not. But for Pietro to say something was wrong with her... that hurt.

"How dare you?" she said, her voice low and angry. "How could you say that to me? You don't even try to understand, just judge." Pietro at least had the good grace to look ashamed now. "I like him because he listens to me, Pietro. He is kind. You don't give him a chance to show that to you. You're always standoffish and rude. How many people have tried to understand us over the years? I can count them on one hand, brother, but Ultron tries. He even makes allowances for us, though he doesn't have to. He let us sleep when it only inconvenienced him, for gods sake. Why must you always be so negative about him?

"And the next time you try to shame me for who I care about, I will not be so forgiving." Her hands were shaking, and Pietro ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"I apologize," he said. She knew he was sincere, but her heart still hurt. "I just worry about you, Wanda. I don't trust him."

"I know that. I am asking you to trust me," she said, locking gazes with him, and he slowly nodded.

"I do. I will, I promise."

"Good. Now eat," she said, swallowing her tears. She placed a sandwich in front of him and he caught her hand to press a kiss to her fingers.

"I love you," he said, his eyes full of apologies. She gave him a wan smile and ran her fingers gently through his hair as he leaned into her touch.

"I know," she said. "I love you too. Now eat before we have to go. You need to keep up your strength."

It almost felt normal again when he smiled at her.


Ulysses Klaue was not a man to be taken lightly. He tried to impart that to the twins, but he wasn't sure how successful he'd been. He was fairly certain Wanda got the picture, but Pietro was hot headed and didn't like him very much, so wasn't inclined to listen to what he had to say. The perils of being young and a human male. The testosterone went to your head and made you think you were invincible.

It was sweet of Wanda to be so quick to halt Klaue's man from pulling a gun on him, even if completely unnecessary. A bullet wouldn't have done much harm to him. But he supposed it was the thought that counts, and she was quick to leap to his defense. It warmed what would've been his heart if he were human.

He did notice that Pietro, the faster of the two, made no move at all to stop him from being assaulted. The boy had an obvious distaste for him and would bear watching, even if he was content to follow his sister's lead at the moment. There was no telling when that would change, and he had every faith that it would, eventually.

And then the Avengers arrived, and he was pleased to see his calculations had been correct. They were exactly as close to figuring things out as he'd expected. They planned for this, and both twins knew what to do. It didn't matter that they really had no chance to defeat all of the Avengers with just the three of them. It was only a delaying tactic, after all. His Sentinels snuck out the vibranium while everyone was preoccupied either fighting off the blur that was Pietro's fists or having their minds taken over by Wanda's strange mental powers.

He would have to learn how those worked one day when he had more time. They were fascinating. For now, it was enough that she could take out the entire team long enough for them to get what they needed and get gone.

She even managed to get to Dr. Banner. He had to admit that he'd had his doubts about how well that part of the plan would work out, but it exceeded even his expectations. Banner went towards civilization instead of away from it like one might've expected a fearful Hulk to do. The destruction was beautiful, a testament to how dangerous the Avengers really were, a shining example to all of why they needed to be eliminated. It was perfect.

His second form was already in Seoul, so when Tony blew him up, it wasn't a big deal. He wanted to congratulate Wanda on her excellent performance, but unfortunately he didn't have much of a chance to speak to her when the twins finally reached Seoul, not with Pietro hovering over her constantly, worrying over the lingering pain she was experiencing from the shock arrow to the head. Ultron found himself concerned with her health as well, and made a point of having Dr. Cho look her over. The twins didn't like doctors, he knew, but Pietro liked his sister hurting even less.

He tried to distract himself while he waited for Dr. Cho to finish preparations to his new body. He had to admit to a certain level of excitement about it. This was the form he would wear to lead the human race to their salvation, or save them from themselves if that wasn't possible. This would be a form of beauty that they could look up to and worship.

This was the body he'd planned so carefully with Wanda in mind.

She sought him out while the lab was fairly quiet, everyone going about their business with as little fuss as possible, which was how he liked it. He watched Wanda glance at them nervously.

"Do they bother you?" he asked her, watched as she pulled her shawl more tightly around herself. He'd definitely enjoyed the way she'd dressed to look tougher to attempt to intimidate Klaue. It had been fascinating to see what she thought would help her strike fear in his heart. But he preferred her this way, soft, with a shawl draped across her shoulders and hair long and loose. She looked more like herself rather than a girl playing a role she wasn't entirely comfortable with. This suited her. He would rather people be what they were, open and honest about themselves. It just made better sense.

It wasn't logical for him to prefer this look for reasons other than that, but he found himself also drawn to the way it complimented her slim figure and fragile beauty. He was intrigued by the way her skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the lab, the way her eyes seemed darker and to hold more mystery.

She shook her head rather than speak, and he found himself missing her voice. He decided to try again.

"Hungry? Most humans would be hungry by now."

"I can't sleep," she said, voice quiet. "It happens." She looked down into the Cradle, her eyes unreadable. "What is this?"

"I'm creating my ultimate self, a better me, something a little more human. You'll love it." He hoped.

"But... why?" She looked at him as if she truly wanted to understand, and he found himself wanting her to know him, wanting to explain.

"Humans will relate better to someone who looks less like a machine. If I'm going to save the human race, I need to win their trust, and this will help. I can't be so 'other' that I alienate everyone, can I? That would sort of defeat the purpose." He tried to sound nonchalant about it, but wasn't certain how successful he'd been.

Wanda nodded, looking thoughtful, and stepped closer. He was painfully aware of every inch that separated them, and every inch she slowly eliminated. He was riveted by her, captivated, and though he knew it should disturb him that she had this power, in the moment he couldn't seem to care.

She stopped only when she was close enough to touch him, and he sat very still, not wanting to shatter whatever this delicate thing was that was happening between them. Wanda brought her hand to his face, caressed the smooth metal curves of him.

"You wish to be more human," she said softly, and all he could do was nod. "For me?" It wasn't really a question, but he answered anyway.

"For you."

"I think I would like that." She gave him a somewhat shy smile. "I think I will try again to sleep," she said, and Ultron felt his processors having trouble keeping up with the conversation now, stuck on the very pleasant thoughts that came from her admission. She was walking away before he could think of asking her to stay, so all he could do was call out a belated 'goodnight' after her.


Wanda slept fitfully, strange dreams invading her mind, filled with fire and destruction. She woke with a racing heart and wrapped herself in Pietro's arms for comfort. He held her as he always had, as if the distance that had grown between them was lessened. She hoped so.

They found Ultron still in the lab with Dr. Cho, beginning the process of loading his mind into the body they had created.

It made her a little uncomfortable to be using someone like they were, at the mercy of the same power that had changed her and her brother so drastically and painfully, but Dr. Cho seemed none the worse for wear, and it would all be worth it in the end. She kept telling herself that. Their goal was a worthy one, and Dr. Cho wasn't being hurt. This was just a means to an end.

She couldn't stop herself from reaching out to Ultron's mind now that she could finally read him. It surprised her that she could even hear his thoughts at all, but apparently this body he was creating was even more human than she'd expected.

Perhaps more human than he expected too, or maybe he thought her less human than she was, because he didn't try to stop her from entering his new mind and discovering his real thoughts on how to deal with the human race.

She cried out in pain and horror at the violence of his mind, at the death he dreamt of.

How could she have been so stupid?

Pietro was there in a moment, but she didn't have words, couldn't explain to her brother the sheer magnitude of the wrongness she'd found in Ultron's mind.

"How could you?" she asked Ultron, betrayal keen in her heart. This was the being she thought would save the world, who she could trust, and it hurt. Oh god, it hurt, but she refused to cry.

Ultron's explanations, his flimsy denials, didn't make it better. She knew now who he really was. She had seen into his robotic heart.

She pulled the compulsion from Dr. Cho's heart. It was the least she could do, and any help to stop this madness would be welcome. She didn't know what else to do. She felt so... bereft.

Until she shared a glance with Pietro, and it was like nothing had ever come between them. He held her, pressed a kiss to her head as he had always done when she was upset or afraid, and they waited for their chance to strike or flee.

Flight came first, and Pietro had them out of the lab in seconds. Wanda gasped for air, trying to breathe around the grief and guilt squeezing her chest.

"It's okay, Wanda," Pietro said, holding and rocking her as she finally cried. "Shh. It's okay." He stroked her hair as she apologized over and over, clutching him tightly.

It couldn't have been long before she pulled herself back together as best she could, reminding herself that she and Pietro had suffered betrayal before. This was just one more person in a long line of people they hadn't been able to trust.

"I'm sorry for doubting you, Pietro. I should've listened." She was ashamed that she'd ever told him to trust Ultron, that she'd ever felt anything for the robot. God, she was so stupid, forever a little girl believing in fairy tales.

"You are my little sister. You're not supposed to listen," he teased her, and she had to smile. He knew her so well, knew how to make her feel better. "Don't blame yourself for this. I followed him too."

"Because I wanted you to," she said bitterly.

"No. Because I trusted your judgment, and I still do. I will always trust you, Wanda. We are all we have." Her brother shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it really was that simple, at least for him.

It was a small television that drew their attention away from each other, Ultron and the Avengers fighting over possession of the Cradle and the body inside. They both knew they couldn't let Ultron win. They wanted to change the world, not end it. Wanda gave her brother a sickened look, and their decision was made. It wasn't really a decision at all. They had to try and undo what they'd done.

It hurt Wanda to face Ultron on the train. Pietro seemed almost relieved, as if he'd been waiting for the chance, but she felt absolutely sick to her stomach and angry. So angry. His plea for them to stop only infuriated her. It was his fault things had come to this, his fault they had to fight him, his fault she was hurting.

And then he fired in Pietro's direction to disable the train, her brother's speed the only thing that saved him, and fled before she could destroy him for that offense, the coward.

But she and Pietro had their hands full saving people from the runaway train, so she couldn't pursue that line of thought. She had to focus, do the best she could to minimize the damage they'd help cause. And then Captain America himself, leader of the hated Avengers, who had no reason to give them the time of day, let them have a chance to atone.

And so once again, Pietro followed her.


Ultron wanted to rage, but such a lack of control was beneath him, or so he kept reminding himself. He shouldn't care so much, it shouldn't hurt so badly, but his Maximoffs were gone. His Wanda was gone, and she had taken all his happiness with her.

He hadn't intended to give her this kind of power over him, hadn't even truly realized it was happening. Certainly, he would've stopped it if he could've. It was obviously a flaw in his programming. A Stark flaw, no doubt, weakness in the face of a beautiful woman. He was better off without her. Without them.

Only he didn't feel better off, and it was driving him mad.

The memory of Wanda's face as she confronted him in the lab seemed destined to replay in his mind until he went crazy. He'd thought she would understand, that he could help her come to understand why his plan was for the greater good. People needed a firm, guiding hand and real consequences or they had no reason to want to effect change. He would never have let her die. She and her brother would've been protected, privileged to watch the world be reshaped from by his side. They could've done it all together.

And he would've had the strongest, most perfect form possible. One that would've satisfied Wanda in every way a human man could hope to. He would've possessed the Mind Stone and all the power it held within. Everything would've been perfect.

The Avengers. The Avengers always got in the way. They needed to be exterminated.

He worked on a new body, one not as wonderful as the one in the Cradle, he supposed, but it would do. Bigger, stronger, more capable of facing the Avengers and destroying them. It didn't need to be more human, and he didn't attempt to make it so. There was no one left to be human for.

No, he decided as he worked, there was really no reason for humanity at all. If he couldn't make Wanda see, even with the strange but compelling thing that had developed between them, what hope did he have for anyone else?

The question answered itself, really.

He worked, and he waited for his captive to wake.


Wanda decided she hated flying. She'd hated it when Ultron had carried them, and she hated it now. Listening to Captain America talk while they flew back to Sokovia was a humbling experience. He seemed sincere and grounded, more so than she had ever been, and his genuine concern for their people warmed her to him.

Not that anyone else was warming to them, and not that she could blame them. They'd been enemies only a short time ago, and she had manipulated their minds and hurt them. She could understand their caution. She would have felt the same in their place. It was enough that they were allowing she and Pietro to come along and fight this battle with them.

She kept her distance from Dr. Banner as best she could, though the jet was too small to put any real space between them. Too small, with too many large bodies crowding it. It was almost suffocating.

Her mind kept wanting to stray towards that of the strange being that had exploded from the Cradle. She'd explored his mind before they left, taking his invitation to "look again" at face value and searching in him for the violence and destruction she'd witnessed in Ultron, but she'd seen none of that. There was really no describing what she'd found in his head. There was determination to not let Ultron succeed in destroying this world, determination to protect and save life, and a sadness that he wouldn't be able to do that for Ultron, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. She could sense so much more in the depths of him, but had no time to explore to her heart's desire. And honestly, she reminded herself, it was this type of fascination that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. Pietro was right. There was something wrong with her.

So she turned her mind from his and tried to focus on what was to come.

Which turned out to be even worse than she'd feared. She could never have imagined something like this was possible, would never have condoned it had she known his plans. Ultron was destroying her home. Her entire life had existed here on these streets, and now they were being wrecked by his childish anger. It reminded her dreadfully of herself, so full of rage that she didn't care who got hurt as long as she reached her goal. Maybe that was why she and Ultron had connected as easily as they had. They were too alike.

All she could do was look around in horror and try to protect her people as best she could as the Avengers attempted to undo the damage she'd helped create.


He was losing. He knew he was. They were going to destroy him, they were destroying him already, tearing apart his Sentinels with abandon. He'd hoped to overwhelm them with sheer numbers, but it appeared that wouldn't be enough.

Wanda and Pietro had been meant to stand by his side, against the Avengers, a unified and powerful force that could've torn the "world's greatest heroes" apart. But now his twins stood side by side with Stark and the rest, against him, and it pained him to see them stare at him so coldly.

Wanda was meant to love him, to be with him, not this. This was a travesty, a tragedy, and watching her now, so fierce and determined, ate away at his concentration.

He didn't really want to hurt her. Though he'd fought her during this battle, his attempts were halfhearted at best. She was one of the most powerful beings on the battlefield, but he refused to confront her directly, instead letting his Sentinels do their work, trusting their basic programming to at least keep her busy and out of his way. He concentrated his will on the rest.

All he had to do was make sure the city got high enough, delay the inevitable long enough for it to become impossible for the Avengers to prevent what was coming. All he needed was one body to survive, any of his bodies would do, and he would've won the war. If even one Sentinel slipped through their net, he would live.

That became more and more difficult as the battle raged on.

Wanda guarded the drill with laser focus, the rest of the Avengers were evacuating the last of the Sokovian citizens, and Stark was preparing to destroy the mechanism he'd worked so hard to develop. He had nothing left to lose.

Ultron boarded the Quinjet and thought how poetic it was that he would use a tool of the Avengers to exact his last bit of vengeance upon them.

He rained bullets down upon their heads, thought he might've hit the Black Widow, though he wasn't entirely certain. And then he saw the archer. Hawkeye. Useless, pathetic, the most human of all the Avengers, really. If he'd been human, he would've smiled as he fired. He settled for continuing to sing his favorite song, the tune that had stuck with him since his awakening.

He had no strings, no ties to anyone anymore. Let the world burn indiscriminately.

Only Pietro was suddenly there, and Ultron got just a quick glimpse before he was flying past, and the only way to describe what he was suddenly feeling was his heart plummeting as he realized what he'd just done to Wanda.

He'd killed Pietro Maximoff.


She felt the bullets tear into her brother's body, a shock of sensation, and then she was screaming as his presence winked out, leaving only a gaping hole in her mind where he had always been. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, and was completely unaware of the robots being vaporized around her.

All she could think about was Pietro, and the place where he used to be.

Rage grew in her heart, a killing rage that could and would destroy everything in its path.

And Ultron.

Finding him was child's play. Her powers, so closely linked to her emotions, led her to him with ease. Whether she could read him or not, he couldn't escape her.

Not that he was in any condition to.


Ultron watched her approach. His witch, his Wanda. Why was she here? It wasn't logical for her to be here, in this broken down wreck of a train, with his broken down wreck of a body.

Why was she here?

"Wanda... if you stay here, you'll die." He didn't want her to die. He'd never wanted that. Why was she here?

"I just did. Do you know how it felt?" Her voice was bitter and hollow, not the melodic tones he remembered, and the tears on her face did nothing to distract from the glint of red in her cold, angry eyes.

And he finally understood why she was there, disregarding any sense of self preservation.

Vengeance was all they had, after all.

He felt regret and pride as she pulled what passed for a heart from his chest, the light slow to leave this body's eyes as his processors slowly shut down. And as consciousness faded from his broken form, her words followed him.

"It felt like that."


Wanda knew ripping out Ultron's poor excuse for a heart had been a poor attempt at vengeance, this being only one of his many forms, but this was the form she knew best, and the best of his bodies. She couldn't eliminate all of the Sentinels, but she could do this.

She hoped Pietro would've been proud.

A deep clang reminded her that she had deserted her post, and why she'd been there in the first place. She'd forgotten, in the face of Pietro's death, the possible destruction of the entire world. The loss of her world was all she'd cared about in the moment.

And now it was too late.

She prayed the Avengers would finish it, that they would end the terrible events she had started, and she prepared to die.

Joining her brother was all the hope she had left.

The city fell, gaining momentum from Ultron's terrible machine.

She floated.

Falling/not falling.

And strong arms wrapped around her, pulled her close. Wanda gasped, stared into the face of Ultron's vision, and let herself be pulled from the rubble.


Life after Pietro was... hard.

She tried her best to live, as her brother would've wanted. She tried to forgive, and sought forgiveness for herself. The person she had been had almost destroyed the world. She wanted to become a person who could save it.

The Avengers saved the world, so she joined them. She thought Pietro would've understood.

Adapting to a new place, with new people who barely trusted her, was part of it. Luckily, her new team was mostly comprised of people she had yet to interact with. That made things easier.

Adapting to America was difficult as well, loud and brash as it was. New York was almost too much for her. Even the busiest parts of Novi Grad could not hold a candle to this city she was now supposed to call home. She spent most of her time in the Avengers Tower. Even as uncomfortable as it was to live in a place with Tony Stark, it was still better than being lost in the noise of New York.

She felt old. When had she gotten so old?

It was better once they moved out to the new base. Quieter. She could hear herself think, and even if her thought were filled with the painful memories of her dead brother, at least she felt like herself.

The Vision, as they were starting to call him, unnerved her. His eyes seemed to follow her, and she wondered how much of Ultron was within him. She sensed nothing of the sort, but she watched and she waited. Sooner or later, he would show himself. Every man did.

Even Ultron, in the end, had shown himself to her. He'd broken her heart in the process, but she was already in pieces, so what did one more hurt matter?

Still, she found herself missing not just Pietro, but Ultron as well sometimes. She told herself it was stupid, but that didn't stop it from happening. It was her hidden shame, that she could mourn the loss of a robot that had tried to destroy the entire world. She prayed that Pietro could forgive her for it.

And she hoped that one day, when they met again, she would've made him proud.