Chapter 2: Danse Macabre

AN: Important! In my version of the this battle, Ultron is simply testing the strength of a robot army against the Avengers. The meteorite will not happen, and no part of Sokovia is floating. It's simply a fight that Ultron orchestrated by attacking Sokovian civilians, knowing that the Avengers would come to the rescue.

Other than that, I hope you like the direction this is going. Thanks to all who followed, added to favourites, and reviewed!

He saw what would happen before it did, but this time his talent brought nothing but heartache. A head of tousled hair peeked out from over Hawkeye's shoulder and a small arm was wrapped around the archer's neck. The Maximoffs were many things, but heartless was never one of them. Pietro made his decision as fast as he could run.

Barton had a job, friends, something grand to live for. Pietro only had Wanda. He would be loathe to leave her alone in the world but the speedster knew that his sister was far stronger than she realized. Somehow, she would make it.

Bullets rained down like hail, bringing with them a blinding cloud of dust. For a second, the gunfire was deafening and in the next Pietro heard nothing but the blood rushing in his ears.

He stood in shock, arms outstretched towards a disbelieving Barton and the child they had both protected. As always, Pietro could watch in slow motion as confusion knitted Hawkeye's brow then was quickly replaced with a mixture of great sorrow and gratitude as understanding dawned.

"You didn't see that coming," Pietro said with the last breath of air in his lungs. A small smirk crossed his face.

The world, forever so slow, suddenly sped up. The buildings around him blurred as life and power escaped his body. His collapse was not slow, it was not fast – it was human. In his last moment, he was no longer Quicksilver but simply Pietro Maximoff, the boy who would have given anything to protect his sister and country.

Wanda Maximoff was one half of a whole and she felt something shatter within her when Pietro fell. The very fabric of her being rent in two and something irreplaceable within her died. An inhuman scream of unimaginable pain tore from her lips as her brother was ripped from her.

Agony, rage, fear. That trio found their way into Wanda and were released through a powerful blast of scarlet magic. Robots shattered into a thousand pieces, scrap metal flying everywhere. A piece sliced across Wanda's cheek but it felt like a gentle caress compared the torture that she was suffering.

Her brother, her protector, her best friend, her twin. Wanda could feel a gaping wound within her where Pietro's mind had always pressed against her own like a perfectly matching puzzle piece. A void where once had been her one solace in the hard years they'd passed together. Wanda recoiled from her own powers, gathering the red strands of her magic away from the hole in her mind.

This was one wound that time could never hope to heal.

Pausing to put down the boy he carried, Clint rushed over to Pietro's body, praying to find a pulse or heartbeat.

There was silence, interrupted solely by the noise of crunching gravel as Steve Rogers ran over.

Clint glanced up at the other Avenger, and a single look of futility was shared. The Maximoff boy had died for Barton, and there was nothing the archer could do but close Pietro's staring blue eyes, glassed over with death.

The sharp whine of the Quinjet's engine jerked Steve's attention away from the scene before him. He looked skywards to see the familiar outline of the plane speeding closer.

"Run!" shouted Steve. He picked up the boy Barton had ran to save before turning to escape. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran only to see the archer pause and reach down to carry along the body of Pietro Maximoff. "There's no time!"

Clint looked at Steve with consuming guilt in his eyes and remorse on his face. "I–"

Captain Rogers cut off Barton's sentence. "Now, or we'll all be dead!" Urgency lent his voice fury as the jet flew ever nearer.

There was reluctance in Barton's movements as he abandoned Pietro for the safety of the ships but it didn't slow him down. He was a professional after all, and hesitation often spelled death.

They made it to cover as bullets fell where they had been just seconds previous. Barton looked out in time to see a scarlet mist surround the Quinjet and send it crashing into a building. Wanda stood a few metres away from the boats, glaring murderously towards the destroyed aircraft that held Ultron's primary body. She wove the threads of magic around her fingers, preparing for battle as a seemingly endless horde of robots swarmed over the ruins of Sokovia's capital.

"Get in the ship!"

The whirring of the engine increased in volume and Barton didn't know if Wanda had heard Steve's message.

For the second time that day, Clint abandoned the safety of the carrier crafts to retrieve someone. He ran to the younger Maximoff twin and grabbed her arm. "Wanda, let's go!"

Her eyes were red and filled with cold rage when she turned to look at him. "I am already dead," she said, shaking off his hand.

"Wanda, list–" Clint was cut off again, this time by a bolt of Scarlet Witch's magic. He went flying backwards and through the open door of the carrier.

The boat began to lift off from the ground, propellors and jets roaring madly. Clint heard nothing but Pietro's last words as he watched Wanda obliterate the first wave of robots.

You didn't see that coming, you didn't see that coming, you didn'tseethatcoming. The words increased in volume and speed the further away from Wanda the boat rose.

Possessed by some wild form of guilty mania, Clint prepared to jump off the ship and do anything to save the one Maximoff twin he could.

However, before Clint could act, a blur of red and green crossed the battle scene and carried Wanda away.

Vision. Stark's creation against Stark's creation... Clint didn't like the idea of it much, but he had to admit that the android had proved its worth several times over.

Clint backed away from the still open door of the boat, stumbling to find a seat. Fatigue washed over him as the full weight of the day's activities sunk in. Most of Ultron's robots had been easy to destroy and none were capable of flight, but the sheer number of them was staggering. There was nothing they could do right now, but Ultron would have to be stopped as soon as possible, before he created enough robots to overwhelm an army. If that happened it would be war on a global scale and Clint wasn't sure that humans would win.

Darkness.

No, not darkness. Pietro realized he could see, it was just that there was absolutely nothing there. A funny sort of sourceless grey light was present, but there was nothing to illuminate. There were no shadows and no highlights yet an impression of vast stretches of empty land was created.

"Hello?" he called out, but the void stole his voice as quickly as it sounded, leaving a hollow silence.

He had no body and there was no indication that he even existed. Nothing but the reality that resided within his own brain. Pietro knew he was dead and so, logically, whatever this strange place was, was the afterlife.

Creations of the mind had always been Wanda's field, but the absence of sense and form evoked strange imaginings for Pietro. Dark shapes shifted around him, neither near or far for there really was no distance. Sometimes he thought he saw eyes, glinting with red and gold. But what was color? He could hardly remember. Red... Scarlet... The color of his sister.

Sister? Wanda. She was the one memory he held onto even when he thought he had lost himself.

How long had it been? Time stretched into eternity and lost all meaning. What was a second? The time it took to blink? What was blinking? Though he saw, Pietro no longer had eyes.

The void tore at his sanity. Memories drifted away, words, thoughts, everything that made him human. The speed that had served him so well in life was useless in death. Even if he had his legs, there was no where to flee, and the only thing to run from would be himself.

Pietro stood at the brink of his mind, some unspeakable horror looming both behind and ahead. He was ready to fall again, this time into bottomless despair and insanity.

Perhaps it took minutes, perhaps decades, but slowly, something started to change. It came peacefully, the return of his senses. Pietro became tangible again, going from invisible to translucent to fully opaque. He was wearing what the clothes he died in, still stained with his own blood. He could feel the cold metal of the bullets inside his body but there was no pain.

Surroundings formed around him. A dark forest with a single straight path leading to a golden castle. Behind him, a choking mist crept forwards, skeletal hands reaching out.

Pietro did the one thing that never failed him. He ran.

A silver blur trailed him, marking his path down the compact dirt road. He ran until his lungs burned and his muscles screamed for air. The palace was no closer to him than before. In fact, it seemed farther away than ever.

The mist stole ever closer.

Something cold brushed Pietro's hand. He looked down in horror to see the bones of a child's small fingers reached out to grasp his own.

"Dance with me!" The voice was high pitched and eager, completely at odds with the rotting skull that spoke.

"Dance with us," echoed a whispering chorus. The mist receded to reveal an endless sea of the dead. Some would not seem dead at all if not for their bloodless skin and fever-bright eyes. Others were horribly disfigured by their cause of death.

They came from all walks of life. Men in bathrobes, women in evening gowns, children in pajamas, all hand in hand, dancing in a circle.

The skeletal child pulled Pietro into the circle with inhuman strength. "Dance with me!" He insisted brightly.

There was no music and yet the dancers all moved in synchronization. Then a melody started. The high, haunting voice of a woman. She sang in a language Pietro had never heard before but the words were soft and expressive. Pietro saw sunlight over a gentle ocean. He saw a fawn in green forest, wind over a field of red flowers, icy mountain peaks with their wild beauty. He saw life.

Those closest to Pietro must have also experienced the visions for they broke from the circle and staggered towards the lilting voice. Desperate hunger twisted their faces. A desire so strong they felt an ache in hearts that had been still for centuries.

A point of light appeared, not too far from Pietro. Some corpses close to it tried to embrace the light but were gently rebuffed. Pietro ran for the light and in less than a second he had reached it. He grabbed the tiny pinprick and was suddenly wrenched into a twisting labyrinth.

A hand was in his, but this time it was warm and solid, belonging to a woman who would not turn to look at him. He followed her up cracked stone stairwells and through the hellish maze. Her dress billowed out behind, sometimes brushing against Pietro's legs. Their pace was fast for most, but to him, it was painfully slow.

For a crazy moment Pietro thought she might be Wanda but that thought was dismissed as quickly as it came. No, this woman seemed leached of color with hair that was almost white and skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Pietro knew the fit of Wanda's hand in his own and this was not it.

Pietro paused, pulling back. What if he was in Hell and this was some cruel trick, designed to give him false hope before plunging him deeper into eternal torment?

"Well come on then, Eurydice." The woman didn't turn but Pietro could hear the smirk in voice.

Eurydice? Had she mistaken him for someone else? Pietro had no time to ponder this new development because the woman had yanked him around a corner to stand at the edge of a precipice.

Pietro's fast reflexes let him come to a stop before he fell in. He stood by her side but hair veiled her face. He felt her hand on his back, trying to push him into the dark water several feet below, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Jump," she said.

"Why?" asked Pietro. His voice was hoarse from disuse and the sound of it was unfamiliar.

She merely pointed downwards. The water shimmered and a faint image appeared. Pietro watched the scene unfold like a movie in front of him.

Wanda stood alone in the ruins of the Sokovian capital. Red magic glowed at her hands and in her eyes but despite her immense power Pietro knew she could not hope to defeat the massive army of robots gathering before her.

Without a second thought, Pietro dove into the murky depths.

AN: If you don't know who Eurydice is, I'm referring to the story of Orpheus and Eurydice from Greek mythology. Basically, Eurydice is Orpheus' wife and she dies from a snakebite. Orpheus, who is a talented musician with the most beautiful voice, loves her so much that he goes to the underworld to bargain for her life. His singing moves Hades so much that the lord of the underworld allows Orpheus to bring Eurydice back as long as he doesn't turn to look if she's following him until they reach the world of the living. They're almost there when Orpheus, unsure of whether Eurydice is behind him, turns to look. As it happens, Eurydice was actually there all along but now Orpheus has lost her forever. Completely heartbroken Orpheus wanders around playing sad music until he's eventually ripped to pieces by wild nymphs. What a life.

Anyways, I've borrowed elements of that story, but in no way should it be viewed as foreshadowing.
Please review and tell me what you like and dislike. Also if you pick up on any grammar/spelling/plot mistakes, please tell me! :)