Not Fast Enough
Faster, faster, faster, until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death. – Hunter S. Thompson
Pietro was not afraid of death. He had faced it more than his fair share over the course of his short life, and that was before he could outrun it if he tried. When he saw the ship speeding towards the archer and the boy, he knew that he could save them, and he didn't hesitate.
As Pietro raced towards them, he saw the archer set his jaw in grim resolve, squeeze his flint blue eyes shut and turn his back to the ship, shielding the boy with his body. Pietro strained to run faster, acutely aware that he was running out of time, but the bullets still beat him; Pietro could only catch the archer before he fell and drag his limp body behind a car.
By some miracle, the boy tangled in the archer's arms was alive. He stared up at Pietro with huge, scared eyes, and Pietro lifted him gently and set him a safe distance away, taking the time to pat him on the shoulder and whisper that it would be alright. Then, he turned his attention to the archer even though he already knew that he hadn't been fast enough.
Pietro placed a finger on the archer's blood splattered neck. No pulse. His hand had begun to tremble uncontrollably, but he managed to gently close the archer's mouth and wipe the streak of blood from his chin. "I am sorry," he mumbled as he sank down to the ground beside the archer, vaguely realizing that he didn't even know his name. "I am so sorry…I w-wasn't fast enough."
Pietro knew that he had to get the boy to the helicarrier shuttle, understood that he had to get there himself before the city exploded into a million pieces, and he could hear Wanda urging him in his mind to get moving, but he couldn't. He was frozen in place, and everything that usually moved so fast had slowed to a standstill.
Suddenly, Captain Rogers emerged from the smoke and dust, and time began to speed up again. Their eyes met, and Pietro only shook his head. Captain Rogers sunk to his knees beside the fallen archer anyway and checked for a pulse. He cursed, his voice faltering, but then he took the archer into his arms, and Pietro followed suit with the boy.
Pietro could have reached the shuttle in less than two seconds, but he stayed glued to Captain Roger's side. He waited until Captain Rogers had laid the archer's body on the ground next to two unoccupied seats and turned to face him. "It isn't your fault," he said softly, and he clapped him on the shoulder and was gone.
The boy squirmed in his arms, reminding Pietro of his presence and preventing him from truly considering the alternative. Wearily, Pietro scanned the shuttle and spotted a sobbing woman. "Is that your mother?" he asked in his native tongue, and the boy shook his head yes. Pietro couldn't help but sigh with relief.
After returning the boy to his mother, Pietro stumbled back to where Captain Rogers had left the archer's body. He sat down beside him, leaning his back against the seat, and stared up at the sky. As soon as he was settled, he felt Wanda's presence in his mind, and he told her that he was alright. His twin probed deeper, and he told her that he had been fast enough to save only the boy. He felt her grief, her rage—a memory flicked across his mind of the archer convincing her to fight, telling her that she was an Avenger, effectively absolving them both of their sins—but then she echoed what Captain Rogers had said and was gone, leaving Pietro alone with the man he couldn't save.
Pietro scarcely noticed Vision shoot out of the crumbling city, carrying Wanda in his arms. His mind had gone numb as the adrenaline drained away. At some point, he didn't know when, he had reached down and rested a hand on the archer's shoulder. He didn't know why; he could provide no comfort to a dead man, and the archer's stillness did nothing to comfort him. As he sat there, he wondered who the archer was, where he was from, mostly how he had gotten caught up in this mess.
After yanking himself from his tortured musings, Pietro registered that Vision had set Wanda down on the shuttle before flying off into the distance. It took his twin less than 30 seconds to navigate the cramped shuttle and sink down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and taking his free hand in hers. Suddenly, she flinched, and Pietro felt her panic emanating off of her. It was only then that he realized that his hand was slick with blood.
"Not mine," Pietro murmured, and he felt Wanda's panic morph into sorrow. He couldn't bring himself to look at his sister so he continued to stare up at the sky. Wanda clearly sensed that he didn't want to talk so she remained silent, only giving his hand a gentle squeeze and staying beside him as the shuttle flew towards the safety of the helicarrier.
Soon enough, the shuttle landed on the helicarrier, and the civilians began to file out. Many stopped to thank Pietro and Wanda. Few, noticing the archer lying discarded, largely forgotten, on the ground, offered their condolences. Wanda whispered their thanks; Pietro only squeezed his eyes shut against his tears.
"Oh my God, Clint!"
Pietro's eyes snapped open at the strangled cry, and he could only watch in mute horror as the notorious Black Widow rushed towards them, her eyes wild with pain and fear. For a split second, he was convinced that she was going to pull a knife and disembowel him for his failure, but she ignored him; instead, she crumbled beside the archer, her long-time partner, Pietro knew, and pulled his head into her lap. "Oh God, Clint, Clint, you can't do this. Please…"
Pietro could sense his twin's hesitation, but she still reached out and placed a hand on the Black Widow's quivering shoulder and whispered, "We are so sorry."
The Black Widow didn't respond with words; she simply began to sob and held the archer tighter, her tears splashing down on his still face. After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, Captain Rogers arrived on the shuttle. The look in his eyes told Pietro that he wanted them to leave so he hauled himself to his feet and extended a hand to his sister to help her up. Before they turned to go, Wanda whispered that they were sorry again, but nobody answered.
And, as soon as his feet touched the helicarrier deck, Pietro began to cry himself for the archer he didn't know, whose name he had only just learned, who he couldn't save because he wasn't fast enough.
Thanks for reading! I was inspired to write this piece after the tremendous response to "The Sunroom." This story can be viewed as a stand alone, or as a companion piece to "The Sunroom," which I would also recommend reading. Depending on the response, it may end up being multiple chapters.
For some context, here is the paragraph in "The Sunroom" on which this piece is based: "Pietro had gone for a run, claiming that he needed to burn off some energy, and he hadn't returned yet. Steve was starting to doubt that he would before they turned in for the night; Wanda had mentioned that Pietro kept muttering something about not being fast enough in his sleep, and Steve knew that being around the family wasn't helping."
Anyway, I'd really appreciate your reviews. Like "The Sunroom," there aren't many pieces out there that play out this scenario so I'd love to hear your thoughts. Until next time. ~Moore12