Fire.
Explosions.
Death.
Everything Pietro saw around him terrified him, and not just because it was a scary sight, but rather for a far more terrifying reason: Wanda was missing. The 10 year old boy had watched their parents fall down the hole after the bomb hit, and instantly the two began to run out of the house. Before they reached the street, though, she had slipped from his hand and fallen down one story. He searched and searched the ground level for his sister, but the other twin was no where to be found.
That was why he was now running down the street, trying his hardest to stay calm. Every bone in his body was screaming to run in the opposite direction and get out of the city, but he wouldn't leave. Not without his sister. He was already fighting back tears from the panic in his heart, his pulse at a rate that was most likely unhealthy for a child his age and size. But he wouldn't let the tears blur his vision. If he did, there was a chance he could miss her.
"WANDA? WHERE ARE YOU? WANDA?!"
Pietro was screaming at the top of his lungs, coughing shortly after due to the smoke in the air. It was getting harder to breathe, and the further into town he got, the more fire there was. He was starting to loose hope that he would ever find her. He needed to find her. Mom and Dad were gone. He couldn't loose Wanda, too. Turning around in circles as those remaining alive ran past him, nearly knocking the boy down, he saw her. Standing, looking just as lost as he did, was his sister, tears streaming down the girl's face. Instantly he started for her, but the people around knocked him down, his hands, face, and knees slamming into the ground. He winced and screamed out some, but was quickly trying to stand. It didn't last long, though. Just then, he heard a loud noise in the sky. He couldn't describe it, though. All he could do was turn around and watch with wide eyes as another missile flew right towards the twins.
"NO!"
Pietro shot up in his bed, a cold sweat causing his hair to stick to his face. He had dreamed of that night again. Normally, Wanda would be able to calm him down, but after a nightmare like that, he wasn't sure if she would be able to. In fact, after his nightmare, he wasn't sure if he WANTED her to. Quickly, Pietro got out of bed and scrambled for the door to their bathroom, ignoring Wanda's calls for him as he locked the door of their safe house behind him. He felt like he was going to be sick. He wasn't, though, and his blue eyes turned up to the mirror. He was shaking, and it wasn't from having just woken up. No, he KNEW why he was shaking, and he would never let himself forget why. He had saved them by diving under that bed, but that didn't stop the nightmares.
After about 20 minutes, as that felt like an eternity already, Pietro slowly made his way out of the bathroom before collapsing on the bed, burying his face in Wanda's lap, and gripping her pajamas tight as she slowly soothed him. He was calmer now, but there was no way he would be going back to sleep. Not that night, at least...