Wonder at Death
Pietro
Being fast was not always enough. Barton was fast, as fast as he could be, and he moved so his body was the shield; like the Avenger he was. The child was younger than they had been, when they held each other under a bed, telling stories so they didn't think about dying.
"Do you remember the rabbit in the garden over?"
"The grey rabbit?"
"The grey rabbit had a fox for a friend..."
Wanda had said Barton had children, maybe one of them was that boys age?
Being fast was not always enough, and Barton was not fast enough to save himself and the child, so he had chosen the child. Now Pietro had chosen Barton. It hurt, bullets ripping through skin and bone and muscle; his blood was soaking into his uniform.
"I don't know..."
"I like it."
"You always like what I wear – you don't even look!"
"I do look; I just always like it." He took the jacket and put it around her shoulders. "You're always beautiful Wonder." She lent up to kiss him on the cheek. He marvelled at how small she seemed sometimes; as children they had been within an inch of one another in height, but he had kept growing, and she had stayed small.
She was always in charge though, she was the smart one, he was the big one. He carried all their things, since her skinny arms hurt so quick, and he carried her sometimes, when she was too tired to move her feet. He fought for her too, defended her against the creeps on the street, the bullies who thought Roma were rats, the soldiers who tried to hustle girls into dark corners whenever they could.
But she was the one who got them money, who got them off the streets, who hid their Roma heritage, so they could get into places otherwise closed to them. She found the lab, and she made them both stronger.
His sister was a wonder, and when he slowed down enough to think for five minutes; he would tell her so.
She was there, as his eyes closed on Barton's pained expression, pained and shocked; he really he hadn't seen it coming. But he should have, all Pietro had ever wanted was to be good, and what was better than making sure no more children grew up without parents to protect them? Wanda whispered she loved him, and said their parents would be proud. He said he was sorry. He felt how angry she was, but it was a comfort, because he knew it was her love, turning into anger. It would make her stronger. He told her, as darkness closed around him, that he finally felt peaceful, he had no desire to run now; he was ready to rest. She whispered that she loved him.
When he woke up, he was not at peace, he was in pain, pain like fire tearing through his veins.
Clint
Barton had not expected to cry, but as he told Laura, he found himself crying. "He just did it, Laura, like there was no doubt in his head."
"Good men do good things without thinking about them Clint."
"He was barely more than a boy. A punk kid, like I said."
"He doesn't sound like a boy. He sounds like a man I would be proud to call a son. And he saved you, so you could come home to us, watch your own son grow; I love him for it."
"His sister, Pietro's sister, she's a mess. All broken up, Vision's been with her, he's good at making people calm, he's a comfort, but... every time I saw her, I felt so guilty."
"She blames you?"
"No. She smiles at me."
"Because she sees your life as a part of her brother's. Don't hide from her Clint, you're a comfort to her too. Proof her Pietro didn't die with nothing left behind."
"No, he's got a legacy, that punk kid. Pietro. Nathaniel Pietro, what do you think?"
"I think it's a good name." Her hand clasped over stomach. "A name our son will be proud to have."
Natasha
Natasha felt her loss keenly, right up until Clint came on board, shot and bruised, and carrying Pietro's body without help. She didn't offer any, she could see from his face this was something he was going to do alone. Her mind flickered back, to Wanda, the powerful witch with the nervous eyes, reaching out for her brother the moment she felt threatened; and her brother appearing at her side as soon as he noticed. She had lost nothing, Bruce would come back, Bruce could come back.
Clint waited by the body until Vision brought Wanda aboard, and she knew, as she watched the sister comb her brother's hair with her fingers, wipe smudges of dirt from his face with infinite care, though he was no longer there to feel it, that this was loss. She was very glad it was not her feeling it, though that seemed cruel.
Her fingers found Clint's, entwining them, as they watched Wanda gripping her brother's cold hand. "How'd it happen?"
"There was a kid, in the rubble, I had to get him out, but Ultron came over us, strafing... I got myself around the kid, figured that was it. Pietro was quick enough though, covered us both. I never saw it coming." He half smiled, though there was no joy in it.
"Don't even think he liked me much."
"In the heat of battle, you protect your comrades." Clint nodded, watching Wanda succeed only in smearing dirt further across Pietro's face, her tears were wetting it. "Call Laura, I'll get her a cloth."
Steve
He was worrying about Natasha, and Bruce, he wanted to account for his team, he wanted to know there would be no bodies to bury. Then she came in, with a cloth in hand, looking for a tap. "You're okay." He felt the sigh escape,
"I'm okay."
"Bruce?"
"Gone, but fine." He didn't worry, Bruce would come back.
"Well, that's everyone. Barton should be docking-"
"He docked,"
"Good, is he hurt? What's with the cloth."
"For Wanda, she's cleaning her brother up."
"Those two..." Look out for each other. But not anymore, he had carried the body himself. Natasha put a hand on his shoulder, and let him follow her out.
Wanda took the cloth to clean blood and grime off her brother's face and hands. Steve watched, and realised there would be a body to bury. War always had casualties. His team was intact, but Wanda Maximoff was not; her family had been small, now it was gone.
Natasha walked away, that did not surprise him, she wasn't cold, Natasha, but she liked to be useful, and she couldn't help the girl further. So when Wanda collapsed, it was Steve who caught her, her brother was clean now, no blood in his pale hair, or marring his handsome face; but he was still dead, and it seemed Wanda had only just realised that was going to be a permanent state.
So Steve caught her as she let herself fall, and held her up as she sobbed incoherently, then carried her to a seat and lay her down, holding her while she screamed into the soft foam of the seat.
Tony
Tony heard the muffle screaming, and went to investigate. He saw Steve with the girl, scanned the room, and his eyes landed on the body of the boy. That boy had grabbed his sister, and pulled her under a bed to wait out a bomb with Tony's name on it, and now he had suffered once more for Stark stupidity.
The regeneration tank was still intact.
He should leave it alone, let death be death, let Wanda overcome her loss and move on with her life; but that was not in his nature, and her screams were echoing. He remembered the bodies of his team on the plinth, the vision she had shown him, his worse fear. She was living hers now, and it was because of him.
Bruce
Bruce had not expected Tony to be the one that found him, he had not expected it to be only two days since the big finale, and he had not expected a video chat with the body of the Maximoff boy in the background; but then, it was Tony. He had learned to ignore all expectations.
"This is a horrible idea."
"I can't sleep Bruce, that girl's here, staying here, she cries through the night. When she's not in bed, she walks around with her eyes red and glazed, like she's in a waking nightmare. I can't sleep, I can't eat... I just can't have this on my conscience, not on top of everything else." And Bruce saw pain in his friend's eyes, pain Tony tried to hide from the world, and said he'd help.
It would take months, to do it properly, if they could do it at all, but Pietro's neural material was intact and stabilised, in stasis until his body was well enough to be reanimated. There was no reason why it should be impossible, though whether or not it was right... Bruce tried not to think about that.