Now the night is coming to an end,
The sun will rise and we will try again.

Stay alive, stay alive for me.
You will die, but now your life is free,
Take pride in what is sure to die.

I will fear the night again,
I hope I'm not my only friend.

Stay alive, stay alive for me.
You will die, but now your life is free,
Take pride in what is sure to die.

~Truce, twenty one pilots

Pain

There were some days where Wanda wanted to give up. To somehow kill herself, to end this nightmare. There were some days when she was in so much pain that she didn't have to think about killing herself, some when she thought that she really was dead. She could hear Pietro's screams, her younger brother's screams. Two minutes, but that made no difference when it came to sibling love. Even if he protected her like he was years older, even if he usually said that he was twelve minutes older, even if she could do nothing about his pain, she still wanted it to stop. Just like hers. Hers was like she was being frozen and burned at the same time. Hers was like dying, again and again and again. She wanted to protect her little brother, who was bigger than her, but if his pain was even half as bad as hers, she would be ready to kill her brother, just to put him out of his agony.

But there were some days, some days when she was happy to be in pain, happy because this was a good cause, it had given them a purpose, a reason to live, a reason which meant that they weren't useless, that being born, that wasn't a mistake. They were doing something what was helpful, that was not entirely useless. When she'd finally got her powers, it felt like a triumph, but the thing is they were still in cages, they couldn't actually do anything useful. But still, Strucker had given them purpose, not leaving them to be drug addicted low lives, like the majority of the cities adult population.

But what was the point of having a purpose, if your purpose was just to be locked in a cage, what was the point of having a purpose at all? What was the point of not being addicted to drugs, if you were couldn't even take painkillers because they could mess with the treatment, which meant that you could be in agony for days and days and days. What was the point of not being a low life, if you didn't have a life at all?

She could barely even speak to Pietro. Their cells were both soundproofed. Their cells were next to each other, so they couldn't even see each other, only when they were being led to their different procedures, when they had their separate training sessions. But she could still hear his screams.

Screams. There were so many screams.

She'd never heard him scream before. Not even cry. Not when the bombs hit when they were ten. Not when they got kicked out of the orphanage because they didn't have enough money to feed them. When they almost died of starvation or when he got pneumonia from sleeping rough. She cried. She cried her little heart out every time. But he, he was strong. Strong enough to be her rock, and strong enough for the both of them. Except now, he was screaming too.

She didn't know what the purpose of this was. He said he would make them powerful, but for what? Sure, to beat the American circus freaks, but in the long run? Would they be prisoners forever? Would they ever be free again? They didn't think of these things when they signed up. They didn't realise what they were getting in to. They were getting a roof over their heads, and power. They were so power hungry. They were so hungry for power that they didn't stop to think about the consequences. They wanted vengeance for their parents, a chance to get back at one of America's costumed heroes for killing their parents. They didn't know what they were getting in to, it was just an opportunity. An opportunity to get the opportunity to kill Tony Stark.

But was that ever going to happen? Were they going to get the chance to ever leave the facility? The chance to even talk to each other again? She loved her brother, but she had no idea what he'd even become. She knew he looked the same, she'd seen him being marched past. Except that his hair had grown a little longer. Quite a lot longer. He kept banging in to the walls of their cells as well. It was like he didn't have control.

She had control long before he did.

Eventually, they were allowed to see each other again. They'd been hurt just as badly, been in just as much pain as each other, but now they were together. She learnt about his powers, how he could run faster than a bullet, how he could have run away so many times, but he stayed for her. He learnt about hers, how she could manipulate minds and objects, so they could do what she wanted, be what she wanted them to be.

And they were still in cells and they still didn't see each other a lot, but they didn't want to kill themselves to end the pain anymore. They had a purpose now, they had missions, however small. They took down small targets for HYDRA. They knew that they were still just training really, but they were doing this stuff, getting ready for the American's when they came.

And they would come. They would come because it was HYDRA, and HYDRA hated the Americans, and the Americans hated them. Maybe they would kill them. Maybe they would be killed. But she would make sure that she showed Tony Stark his worst fears. His worst fears and then kill him. Kill him like he killed their parents.

Maybe it would be a year. Maybe two. Maybe more, maybe less. Maybe they wouldn't be able to kill him on the first try. Maybe they wouldn't be able to kill him on the second. But they would be on his radar. He would come back and find them. He would find them and try to kill them, but they'd kill him. He was nothing without the suit, but they were a speedster and a sorceress.

They were Scarlett Witch and Quicksilver.