Why Did You Leave Me?
The grave was nothing very special. A simple rectangular headstone of soft gray marble with the words "Pietro Maximoff: Quicksilver" carved into it in simple, square font. Below her brother's name was the year he'd been born and the year he died. There was a large blank space where Tony had promised Wanda she could carve whatever she wanted to in the stone, and that was why she was here. She'd thought for a long time about what to put because Pietro was her brother, her safe place, her home, her best friend, her protector. He had been all she had for years, the only one she could trust. She'd struggled to put that into words, but now she thought she knew what to say.
She sent coils of energy to the stone (this would be hard, but Pietro deserved at least this much from her) and started chipping out pieces of the rock in her own handwriting. Small and careful and slow until she leaned back and was satisfied with the tribute.
My brother, and a true hero.
She studied the results, tired.
Steve had given her a ride to the cemetery on his motorcycle, but he'd decided to let her get home on her own, which she was grateful for. She didn't think she would have been able to handle having to talk to anyone. Knowing Steve, though, he wouldn't have said anything himself. He seemed to understand what she needed better than the rest of the Avengers.
Wanda wanted her brother back, desperately. If it weren't for Steve, she didn't know where she'd be right now, in all honesty. She still didn't trust Tony and the rest of the team made her nervous, and she had been preparing to set out on her own when Steve apprehended her and somehow he'd known that she just needed someone to be there for her. He hadn't talked, just let her tell him how much she missed her brother.
"He was everything, Captain Rogers," she explained. "I never had anything else. My parents died. We knew better than to trust Hydra or Strucker. Sokovia was at war, we had nothing, but Pietro was always there. Always. He took care of me and I took care of him. I was happy when he was with me; I knew I was safe. He's gone, Captain, I felt him die." She touched her chest at the memory, aching. "He should not be gone and leave me here alone." That was when Captain Rogers became Steve to her, and he seemed to take on the role of her protector.
When she and Pietro were still young, they had no real idea of the state that their country was in. Their parents, although far from perfect, loved them and had no desire to let them worry about the unrest all around them. Of course, the older Wanda and Pietro got, the more they realized that their city was in a state of constant chaos, and they were afraid. Any shred of happiness that still remained, sadly, was blown to pieces one morning at breakfast when the shells hit and their home exploded and their parents were killed. She and Pietro, both ten at the time, took to living on the streets by their own wits and resourcefulness, hoping to someday take down the man whose handiwork had ruined their lives: Tony Stark. They cared nothing for America or, later, Stark's Ironman persona. They had nothing but hatred and grief. Most of the time they were hungry and tired and frightened. Pietro, impatient, witty, bright Pietro, somehow managed to keep her fed and clothed by stealing and picking up odd jobs. They were not safe, but they were alive.
Pietro had a pocket-sized photo of their mother and father that he carried around everywhere, like a good luck talisman. He never showed it to Wanda, but she knew he had it.
They were just twenty when Hydra approached them, offering to give them superhuman abilities so that they could rid Sokovia of war and strife for good, with the added bonus of having, suddenly, the power necessary to kill Tony Stark and the rest of the murderers who called themselves the Avengers. Wanda did not trust Strucker, but her brother (why was dear Pietro always so impetuous?) was immediately hooked. His silver-gray eyes would burn with passion and excitement when he thought of it.
"We must do this, Wanda," he urged her. "This is our chance."
Neither of them trusted Hydra, but the opportunity to get what they wanted was so close and so real that they could not refuse. They, along with several other candidates, were subjected to experiments that they did not understand. It hurt, it hurt so bad. All the other candidates died, but she and Pietro, they encouraged each other and they survived. Pietro became fast, very fast, but at first it was only bad. He would injure himself by crashing into things because he couldn't control his speed. As for her own powers, they were frightening. They were much easier to control, but her mind had expanded in ways that terrified her. Somehow, though, Pietro still managed to convince her that it would all be alright, even when his new abilities left him drained and panting on the floor of his little cell.
Gradually they got used to their powers, along with the new bond between them that seemed to have come with the experimenting. They were two lonely young people in a dark, dangerous place, and Pietro was truly all she had now except for her power. She needed him like she needed to breathe. He took care of her every need, and the Hydra agents quickly learned that to antagonize her was to invite Pietro's deadly fury. In turn, she defended him. His enemies ran screaming with images of their deepest fears dancing before their eyelids. They answered only to Strucker, and barely even to him. They were always together, powerful and deadly and dark with their hate and fury that never lessened.
Even hurting and angry, Pietro was never anything but gentle with her, those eyes warm with love and understanding, his lean, strong arms always supportive and kind. She helped him improve his English, and he helped her practice using her powers. She discovered that she could use them to give people good images as well as bad, so every night she guarded Pietro's dreams, making sure that he had no nightmares.
He should not be gone. It felt so wrong, being without him. There was a terrible ache in her mind and heart where Pietro was supposed to be and it would not go away. She could no longer count the nights she spent crying herself to sleep because it just hurt so much. What she'd told Ultron was true. When Pietro died, it felt as if she died too. He was supposed to help her know what to do... It was like losing her anchor. He was home, and he was gone. She was alone.
She sank to her knees in front of Pietro's grave and dropped her head into her hands, shaking with silent sobs. The wind threaded through her brown hair and caressed her cheek, but she paid it no mind. She wanted her brother back. The little girl inside her didn't care what happened, she wanted her brother back. Why was he gone? Why did he leave her alone? She couldn't do this by herself. She couldn't, she couldn't.
"Hey, hey, Wanda," someone said, and then a gentle, firm hand was smoothing her hair back from her face and touching her back and shoulders, hesitant but soothing. "It's alright. You'll be okay." The someone was murmuring kind words and she knew it wasn't Pietro but she curled up small and cried, wanting the comfort and familiarity of they words and the gentle touch.
When eventually her tears stopped coming and she sighed and looked up, she was a bit surprised to see Steve's concerned face looking at her. She was immediately conscious of the dirt on her knees and tears on her cheeks. He gently ran his hand through her hair one more time, those blue eyes so worried and sad for her.
"I'm sorry," Wanda said. She was making everyone pity her. She didn't want that.
"No, it's okay," Steve said.
"I should go back... Have I been here long?"
"No. I just thought maybe you'd like some company. Besides, I... I wanted to visit someone too. I didn't earlier because I had to get something from the store, but..." He was rambling a bit, and Wanda realized that he was nervous.
"Can I visit them with you?"
Steve's mouth quirked upward in a sad smile. "Sure. Are you ready to get up?"
"Yes."
They didn't have to walk very far before Steve pointed at a headstone that read "Sergeant James 'Bucky' Barnes". Wanda glanced at Steve, read the sadness and fear in his eyes. "He's not really dead," Steve explained. "Hydra got to him, but we all thought he was gone. You know about the Winter Soldier?"
Wanda nodded.
"Well, that's what Hydra did. They turned my best friend into an assassin and a weapon. I haven't seen him since the day we crashed those Insight Helicarriers... I assume you know about that. Anyway, I take care of the grave, even though he isn't here. I guess I feel like I should, you know?" Steve looked at her. "He was like a brother to me. I knew him since I was only eight or nine."
Wanda nodded, realizing that Steve was telling her something important. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Steve sighed, then he smiled at her again. Wanda wanted the hope that he always seemed to have. "I'm going to go home now. Would you like to come with me?"
Wanda hesitated, then nodded. She couldn't return his smile today, but he didn't seem to mind. He put an arm around her shoulders and walked with her out of the cemetery to his Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Pietro was gone, but Steve was here. He would have to be enough for now.
A/N: This has been begging to be written for a while, honestly. I just loved the dynamic between Wanda and Pietro in AoU; the chemistry (as siblings) was so real. Plus I love the idea that Steve becomes a bit of a stand-in older brother for Wanda.
Please review if you liked this!