AN: Like so many, I also don´t want Pietro dead, so here is one more story where he does not die!
Feedback, if you like the story or not and why, is welcome, but please don´t be too critical with my English- it´s not my native tongue.
Patience
Patience is a virtue. That is how the saying goes.
Pietro never had that virtue, not even before his power of superspeed emerged. He had always been a restless soul, wanting thing when he wanted them.
Wanda on the other hand had always been a patient one. With Pietro for a brother that was not surprising really, because it needed a lot patience to be his sister.
But at this point in time Wanda did not feel very patient. There was only one thing that she wanted... and she wanted it to happen right then. She wanted for Pietro to wake up and be himself again.
However she knew that it was not so easy. Pietro was lucky to be still alive- if one could call him that.
His chest was moving up and down, but it wasn´t him who breathed. It was a machine. His face was pale and gaunt. His eyes were closed and his body still. Lots of tubes were connected to him- for medicine, for fluids, for nutrition.
Wanda was grateful that he was still here with her, of course she was, but she wondered if he ever would wake up again and if... would he still be the Pietro she knew?
There was one thing she was sure about though. If he would wake, he would need patience. And for him to walk the long road, yes walk, not run, back into life he would need Wanda´s help, her love and her patience, because it was her alone who could calm his restless soul.
Wanda closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to find the virtue in her again. When she opened her eyes, she knew she could do whatever she had to do for Pietro. She would wait and stroke his hand or hair, she would read to him, talk to him, sing to him...whatever it was she would do it. If it took days, weeks, months, years...she would be at his side, never to leave, never to lose hope, never to despair.
With this new found determination she bent down and kissed Pietro softly on the forehead. "Good Morning, brother" she whispered. "What do you say about a bath today?"
Wanda filled a little basin with warm water and took out a fresh washcloth. Turning back to her brother she smiled. "Well, in truth it will be a "cat-wash", but if we have learned one thing, than it´s that one should not be picky, right? And besides you always preferred a "cat-wash" anyway. The girl giggled at the memory.
"This is the first time in these five weeks that I see a smile on your face," a gentle voice spoke from the doorway.
Wanda jumped in surprise.
"I am sorry. I didn´t mean to scare you." Steve gave her an apologetic smile.
In the last weeks of her life Wanda had to learn many things. For one, she had to learn to be not only a sister to her brother, but also a nurse. She had refused to let someone else take care of him in that intimate way he needed care. And she also had to learn to trust these people, she was living with now. Actually she still was learning, but she did understand that they were truly good people, who had no second motives, but just wished to help her and Pietro to heal – both in body and soul- and who might even become friends.
"Hello Steve, "she greeted the man. "It´s just... I remembered... "Wanda stopped and looked to the ground. She felt insecure all of the sudden. Should she share parts of her past with him? Even when it was only a funny memory, it still felt strange... new. She had never shared anything with anyone, only with her brother.
Steve waited patiently for her to continue and gave her an encouraging smile.
"When we were children...", Wanda continued, deciding she indeed could speak to Steve, feeling only friendliness and interest on his side.
"Wanda, Pietro! Bath-time!" Ms. Maximoff called through the window of the small apartment she and her family lived in.
The twins, who had been playing in front of the house, looked up and like it was every Sunday (they took a bath only on Sunday, because water was a limited luxury) she saw two very different expressions on the faces of her children.
Wanda beamed up at her and clapped her hands in anticipation. "Bath-time!" she repeated in a happy tone and made a beeline towards the door.
Her son on the other hand... he looked up at her in horror. "Not again!" he moaned. "I just had a bath!" he called up at her, looking grumpy.
"That was last week, dear! Now, hurry up and come upstairs, before the water gets cold. You especially need a bath!"
Pietro looked down at his torn clothes, his dirty knees shining through, his brownish hands and nails.
"Do not!" he mumbled and seeing that his mother had turned away from the window towards Wanda who had arrived in the room, he made to retreat down the street.
However... suddenly his feet left the ground and he was thrown over someone´s shoulder hanging there like a bag of potatoes.
"Papa!" the boy growled. "Let me down!"
The man just laughed. "You don´t want to miss your bath, do you?" he asked and carried him whistling into the house and up the stairs, seemingly not hearing a word of his son´s protests. He dumped him ungracefully into the tub next to his sister, clothes and all.
"Papa!" Pietro wailed, but his wail was drowned out by the laughter of his sister and parents. A pout formed on the boy´s face, but as Pietro never did things very long, it was soon replaced by a grin, when he discovered how much he could annoy Wanda with splashing water in her face.
Steve chuckled at the story. "Sounds like life is never boring with a brother like him, huh?" he asked and the girl nodded. "He can be so annoying, but now I wish he would annoy me again... 24/7... if he would just wake up."
The Captain put a hand on Wanda´s shoulder. "He is healing. But it will take time."
"I know. But what if... what if he is not Pietro anymore when he wakes...what if he is ...different?"
"Then you´ll love him just the same. He is always your brother."
Wanda smiled up at Steve. "Yes. Yes, you are right. Thank you..."
"You´re welcome. And now...bath-time I suppose," he said with a wink. "If you need something, anything, don´t hesitate to ask, Wanda.
When Steve had left the infirmary Wanda peeled the blanket of her brother and gently washed him. His wounds were healing well- soon they would be just a mere memory.
Cautiously she cleaned the areas around his breathing tube, around the IV´s that vanished into the skin of his hands and around the feeding tube that went directly into his stomach.
At last she took of the diaper around his hips and washed him there. This felt still very strange to do, but it must be done and she was rather doing it herself than let someone else change him.
Everything done she filled a syringe with his breakfast and fed him via the tube, before pulling the blanket back in place and sitting down on the chair next to his head, stroking his hair and humming a soft melody.
Pietro felt her presence. She was near, but he couldn´t see her. It was so dark around him. There was no up or down, it was all just a black night in every direction. Just sometimes far off he saw a dim red star that seemed to call him. He could feel warmth radiate from it and he wanted to go there, but he didn´t know how to reach it. He tried to call out to it, but he couldn´t make a sound. He felt trapped and so very frustrated. Anger began to swirl through his being. Why couldn´t he go to the red star? He wanted to go there! Now!
Wanda had stopped her humming and stared at her brother intensely. In the last weeks she was hardly able to get any hold of her brothers being. He was so weak and seemed so far away, but now she could feel his presence a little clearer again. She concentrated, trying to decipher what it was that her brother was feeling, to calm him should he be in pain or feel scared, but the one prominent feeling that she could read was... impatience. And that made her chuckle a little.
"Patience is a virtue, Pietro, don´t you know?" she told him and her heart felt lighter, because however strange and painful it was to see her brother so dependant and helpless, this part of him was so very familiar... so very Pietro. He was still there.