Bound to break

The android's arms were strong as he carried the silent scarlet witch onto the carrier. It felt so wrong to be carried bridal style by another man, someone who wasn't Pietro. The silver haired Maximoff was famous for speeding up out of no where, sweeping her off her feet and whisking her to safety. Just moments after his death, someone else was whisking her to safety, and that fact alone ripped into her chest and crushed up what was left of her heart. Wanda's limbs felt heavy, she couldn't breathe. It was as if he throat had closed up and didn't want to open up for air. As if even her body was ready to shut down and die.

"You are safe now, Miss Maximoff." Vision's voice sounded so far away, though he was right beside her, gently allowing her feet to touch the ground. Standing on her own with her knees so weak seemed impossible. She trembled. There were several people on the carrier. Several people native to her home land. Several wounded mother's crying out as they clang to their children. Several fathers, several siblings and friends, an entire community of lives unsure of how long they had left to live.

For a moment, she stood very still, her mind racing from all the thoughts that screamed out from so many heads. Cries of desperation that only she could hear. The anguish of knowing their family members were gone, never to be seen again. So much of their fear, depression and suffering filled her head that it crippled her, Wanda collapsed, crashing to her knees for the second time in the last ten minuets. Dry sorrow spilled from her cracked lips in the form of painful heaving. Her own breath felt like sand-paper in her mouth, in her throat, and in her lungs.

Red embers burned in her eyes, all she wanted to do was silence them, each and everyone of them. Wanda picked her head up, long brown hair fell over her shoulders like silk and those embers that burned so bright dimmed. Pietro laid there, unmoving. Blood stained his shirt, his pants. Two bullet wounds in his right arm, three in his chest, one in his left leg. An inhuman murmur slipped from her lips and Wanda crawled toward him.

She could no longer hear the thoughts of the people that surrounded her on the carrier. As far as she knew at this point, there was no one else in the world. Only her, and Pietro. Slender fingers brushed his white hair off of his forehead as she straddled his hips. Her heart managed to break once more. Somehow, her anguish grew just a little more painful.

His blue eyes were lidded, they stared back up at her lifeless. There was no laughter or brashness left in his once vibrant now dull irises. Wanda squeaked as her fingers pulled at the corner's of his lips, every fiber of her begging him to give her that smug smirk just one more time. Slowly, she shifted backward, pulling him into a sitting position. Her arm locked around his neck, forcing his face into her chest as her fingers knotted in his silvery hair. Never once did it occur to her, that she would have him in her arms and not feel his strong arms lock around her waist.

Red burned in her eyes as she begged to get inside his head, to somehow force him back into consciousness. You weren't supposed to leave me. Was all she could think but she couldn't form words in her dry mouth. The thought of speaking was a painful one. Fear. Fear filled her to the brim. Wanda had no idea what she was going to do, how she was going to deal with this. Accept this. She'd never even dealt with their parent's death. Pietro dealt with it for her. He suppressed his own emotions to make her feel more sturdy. How could she deal with an anguish she couldn't even put into words? There were no tears. Tears would have been a relief. Wanda was far too hurt to cry. Her body only wracked with violent shudders and the inside of her mouth dried up to a degree that would rival death valley.

Her arms tightened around him, her fingers gripped a handful of his hair until her knuckles turned to pure ivory. Pietro was still. It felt so wrong, he never held still. He was always moving, always shifting about. Even his breathing was uneven and erratic most of the time. This heavy, limp shell in her arms felt so out of place. Out of place or not, she refused to let go. Give him back...The words lingered on her trembling lips but were never voiced. Please, please give him back. God please. Give him back.

At this point in her life, Wanda Maximoff had suffered a great deal and she'd asked God for help, three times. The third being right in that moment. The only good he'd ever done her, was Pietro. He'd given her a twin, someone to shoulder the memories with, and now he'd taken him away. It made her wonder if there was ever a god at all. Three times now, in her life, Wanda Maximoff had found herself asking God for help.

The first was the day the apartment collapsed. It had been a rather ordinary day in the Maximoff household. Until the first shell hit and ripped a hole into the dining room floor. Wood shot up through the red shag carpet in dangerous, rigid, spikes. It was loud and in the blink of an eye, the Maximoff Children were orphans. Before the ten year old girl could react, Pietro swept her off her tiny feet, in the way he would continue to do for years to come. The dark haired boy raced down the hallway, their home fell down around them as he threw his beloved Twin under their shared bed. "PIETRO!" The young girl screamed bloody murder as he ever so barely escaped the collapse of the floor above them, rolling to safety, beneath the old queen bed. His arm pulled Wanda against his body and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I won't leave you, little sister." he promised. The second shell landed just three feet from their faces. For whatever reason, the shell didn't go off. For two days, they stared at the name engraved in the side of the explosive. 'Stark.', Two days they spent hiding underneath their bed, two days they spent staring at the bomb, wondering when it would go off, afraid to breathe for fear of causing it to detonate. They were children, it was hard for them to stay so still, their limbs ached from the stiffness. Hours pressed into each other passed, neither of them ever aware of how much time had passed. Neither slept, they were too afraid to sleep. Those weren't even the worst parts of that two day period. It was Wanda who had the first accident, she soaked herself and her brother in urine. The ten year old sobbed from the embarrassment and Pietro only quietly reminded her that it wasn't her fault. To top it all off, it was unbearably hot trapped beneath the bed. For two days it felt like eighty degrees and that only caused the twins to sweat all over one another.

"Go to sleep." Pietro whispered once, his fingers gently curled around her tiny hand. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you, little sister." even as a ten year old, Pietro Maximoff wore a smirk that could put any grown man to shame.

"That isn't fair to you." Wanda rasped back. "You're just as tired as I am, Pietro."

"Look at the bigger picture, Wanda." The curly haired boy mused trying to look content. He wanted her to believe he was invincible and couldn't be bothered. In reality he wanted her to go to sleep for a bit so he could cry. "Both of us being awake isn't going to help anything."

"Except it will, we're less likely to toss and turn if we're awake...you need to take your own advice, look at the big picture, Pietro."

"I can't." The ten year old responded with a lazy, tired smile.

"Why not?'

"I only see my little picture." His gaze held hers. "It's the only picture I care to look at and I'll look at it every day."

"Little picture?" Wanda was confused.

"Yes, my little picture."

When exhaustion finally took her, Wanda slept a short while. Pietro's strong arm kept her from rolling around and eventually, he too was unconscious. After only twenty minuets of sleep, Wanda woke to a sight that hurt her more than anything.

Her twin laid beside her, sleeping, his cheek pressed to the floor, eyes seemingly glued shut with hot tears. Tears that clang to his lips and nose. Tears that shined in his eyelashes, and mixed with dried snot.

Never in life would she tell him that she saw him in such a state. Pietro tried so hard to make her think that he was indestructible. Only when she turned her back did his real emotions show. Her eyes lidded, gaze resting on his face as soft words left the ten year old's lips, "God please, make Pietro smile again...he's supposed to smile...please give him back his smile..."

Slowly, her words pushed the sleeping ten year old into consciousness and he muttered "I will always smile for you, little sister." and he did. The curly haired boy looked her right in the eye and he smiled. A beautiful smile. A light in the dark.

After the bombing, after they were saved, there was the orphanage. Wanda never prayed there, but the agony she felt was immense. The two of them were living in a state owned orphanage, on the outskirts of Sovokia. The Satis orphanage was a dirty place with little structure. There were no age groups or separation between boys and girls. The older boys would sometimes make weird, aggressive advances toward the Maximoff girl and Pietro would get in trouble for beating the ever loving shit out of them.

When Pietro fought, he would be taken somewhere in the building, usually a closet or an empty room and he'd be locked up without food for four days at max, two at minimum. The days he spent locked up, Wanda found herself hiding out in a hole in the wall. On those nights, Wanda never slept, only cried. Horrible inhuman sobs and all because her brother wasn't beside her.

One night, when she had no more fight left in her. When the beatings had been especially cruel and her lungs burned from screaming, she curled up in the wall. Not caring that the space was cramped, full of rats or damp. The twelve year old pulled her knees against her chest and burried her face into her hands and let out sobs that cracked her dry throat. Where is he? Her thoughts snapped bitterly. Why isn't he ever here? She knew why, because he was locked in a closet somewhere. Because he'd tried to protect her.

"I am here, Little sister." Pietro's hands pried her own away from her face. "Your lip, it's cracked." he muttered, the laziness in his eyes turned to rage. "Does it hurt?"

She looked to the side.

"Wanda." Pietro demanded. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes." She squeaked. "Yes it hurts. Why are you not-"

His lips pressed against hers ever so softly, a chaste innocent kiss. A silent way of saying 'Feel better'.

"You did not have to do that." the younger twin stated quietly as she looked down at his hands. His knuckels were laid open to the bone. "Did you beat your way out of that room?"

"Kinda." Pietro offered her a small smile.

"What if they-"

"They won't."

"How is it you are so sure?"

"Because we are leaving. Tonight."

They did. They ran with no questions asked. No looking back. Not a care as to what would happen next. Never fearing the worst. They were only children, they couldn't possibly have imagined they would end up being Strucker's lab rats.

In Stucker's cell, Wanda prayed. She thought she'd never pray again because it never helped. Praying didn't ease Pietro's mind. It didn't keep him from treating his body as a battery ram, persistently charging the bullet proof glass as if it would do anything. Though she couldn't see her darling twin, she could hear him. Wanda knew that each time that glass didn't crack, Pietro died a little more inside.

She laid back against the wall of her cell, the wall connected to Pietro's. Closing her eyes, red embers glowed beneath her lashes and as her voice filled his head, Pietro slowed down and fell to the floor, laying against the wall, mirroring his twin.

Can you hear me? Her warm voice was a whisper in his mind and it brought him solace. Something he hadn't had in months, maybe years.

"Yes, baby sister."

Hurting yourself is not going to help.

"I know." His lower lip quivered and he thanked god that she couldn't see him.

Rest? Won't you please rest, Pietro?

"Wanda." He quipped. Tears lined his bright blue eyes. "Don't go away."

Rest, for me. This will not be forever.

"You want me to sleep?"

Yes.

"Crazy girl." he whispered as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Her throat felt hollow. At least he'd stopped charging the glass.

The day they broke free of Strucker's faciltiy was also the day they met the Avengers. Strucker thought she and Pietro would be able to take them. From the moment they were allowed to leave their cells, it was never either of their intention to ever go back in. Pietro picked her up and ran like hell. Of course they had their altercation with the group but it never mattered, until Ultron. That was when everything went wrong.

In her head, Wanda thought that she could probably have cracked the glass back then, if she really tried but she was too afraid of what would happen if she did. Now she was thinking she should have, she should have fought her way out of the facility, if she'd done that maybe she would never have met Steve Rogers or Ultron. Maybe they wouldn't have been caught up in the fight. Maybe Pietro would be alive. It was her fault.

Steve watched from a distance as she clambered over Pietro. Her hair fanned over his chest and her body trembled. The pain she was in was unimaginable. Even for Steve who had lived seventy-five years, it was too much to process, too much to bear. The leader searched his head for words, anything he could say to make it just a little less painful and found nothing. He felt awful, going back to the comment he'd made earlier. If you die, walk it off. How could he have said something so insensitive?

"Steve, you didn't know." Natasha said softly, placing her hand on her good friend's shoulder.

"I just don't know what to say, Natasha...this wasn't her fight, or his."

"They made their choice."

"He's a kid. That girl has already suffered so much..."

"None of us know what to say, Steve. There are no words."

It was the truth. There were no words. No way to apologize or console. Wanda's life had changed forever. Her worst nightmare had come true. The Scarlet witch whispered frantically, soft nothings that meant nothing for they fell of the ears of the dead.

"All of it." She whispered. "I'd endure it all, over and over again if you could be beside me." she tried to make sense of everything, "This isn't real, Pietro...please...wake up...you promised...you promised...every day..." tears soaked her red cheeks and he long dark hair clang to her wet flesh. "Your little picture, remember? You said you'd look at it every day!" She screamed and it turned the heads of every human being on that carrier.

Steve turned his head, wincing, squeezing his eyes shut as the carrier found a safe place to land.

It took an hour to escort the civilians off the strip of land, three hours to get everyone ready to receive the medical care they needed. The sun was going down and Wanda still clang to Pietro where he laid on the carrier, they were the only ones left now. Steve feared that moving her would make the moment more real for her, and he could tell she wasn't ready to face the facts just yet.

"It's time to get going, someone's going to have to move her." Tony stated rather bluntly as his mask retracted from his face.

"I will try." Vision was calm as he slowly made his way toward Wanda. Kneeling beside her he said "It is time to depart, Miss Maximoff."

"I can't." Her accent paired with her shaking would have made it hard for most to understand her, but not for him.

"Why not, Miss Maximoff?"

"I can't leave him." she quipped, slowly sitting up to look into the android's blue eyes.

"You can, Miss Maximoff. He is dead."

"So am I." she whispered.

"Yes but you can still rejoin the living." He tipped his head to the side. "You cannot stay here forever."

"I can't stand." she whimpered.

"I will carry you."

Pietro did that. All their lives, Pietro carried her. Physically, emotionally, in every way one could carry another.

Her tears blinded her. "I can't see."

"I know."

"I can't breathe."

"You will, Miss Maximoff."

"It hurts." She squealed wrapping her arms around herself as she fell forward, her face hovering over Pietro's, her hot tears splattered one by one on his fair skin.

"And it always will."

"Why are you telling me this!?" She barked not looking up.

"Because it's the truth, it will always hurt but it will hurt a little less with each passing day."

"I don't want it to get better with time!" She cried. "I want it to hurt. I want to stay here. In this moment. I don't want anymore time to pass! I want him. I want him here."

"That is impossible." Vision soothed. "He wouldn't want this for you."

"How would you know what he wants?" she hissed.

"I wouldn't, and seeing as humans are still strange to me I cannot explain it very well but...he did care for you...and seeing as he cared for you it only makes sense that he would want you to be happy...with or without him..."

Wanda felt her heart drop. Her organs felt heavy.

"Tell him goodbye and close his eyes." The android said quietly.

Wind caused her long hair to cascade over her shoulders, she looked down at Pietro, staring into his pailing eyes as she bit her lip. Gently, she stroked his long dark lashes with her thumb, ever since his hair had gone white there were small glimmers of silver in his eye lashes, glimmers only she'd ever been close enough to see. They brought a small, broken smile to her quivering lips. "That is what you want, isn't it?" her voice cracked. "You've always got to have your way." Her delicate fingers moved downward, closing his blue eyes forever.

"Are you ready, Miss Maximoff?" Vision asked as he watched Wanda press a kiss to her brother's forehead.

"Yes." she quipped. "I'm ready."

The android moved to help her up only to have Wanda place a hand on his chest. "I think he'd want me to walk." the beautiful brunette said quietly as she shifted to her feet. "If I'm going to deal with this, I have to deal with it myself."

"That's fine, but remember, you're not alone." Steve said pointedly as he walked past the two of them, lifting Pietro into his arms.

"I won't forget." She nodded slowly.

"Good, you're an avenger now. You've still got family."

"Dead or alive. He will always be my family." Wanda drew in a deep breath. "I do not want to speak anymore. Can I not be silent for awhile?"

"No one's going to force you, take as long as you need." Steve said with his usual confidence.

Wanda only nodded and though the damage in her eyes was great, she was no longer bound to fall apart. She would heal, with time and reassurance and care. One day, she would be alright again.