Sorry for the long wait guys! I had some stuff that needed sorting out. Enjoy, and pls leave a review! Also, I just started a Jurassic World fic, so here's some shameless self promotion...
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Chapter seven.
After their successful experiment, Pietro went around Avenger Tower more often. Sometimes he tripped and leapt forward quickly, or something startled him, causing the young man to shoot to the other side of the room, but he was getting used to his own body quickly again.
The nightmares never stopped. Every night he was haunted by a vision from his past, from his years on the street to the dreaded days at the factory.
But not every dream was a nightmare. Sometimes he dreamed of playing out on the gray streets, picking fights with his classmates and playing hide and seek or tag with the children from the block. One night he dreamed of a girl named Misha, with whom he shared his first kiss.
The days after that, butterflies fluttered through his chest every time he thought of her.
But he still felt as if he was incomplete. He had most of his memories back, but he knew he was missing some. There were gaps. Voices he couldn't recall or smells that seemed just out of reach.
He was walking outside together with Wanda, on their way back to Avenger Tower from an ice cream parlor at the other end of the street when he dared to propose what he had been brooding on for a little while now.
"I want to go to Sokovia," he said as casually as possible.
Wanda nearly choked on her chocolate ice cream. "Excuse me?"
"I need to remember," Pietro explained.
"But you do!" Wanda said. "You're going steady!"
"I feel like I'm watching a movie every night!" Pietro shook his head. "They don't feel like my memories. Wanda, I need to go there."
"We need to think about this," Wanda said. "I need it to settle, and we need to make arrangements. I'll get you there. Not tomorrow, but I'll make it work."
She stopped and looked up at him, frowning a little.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She sighed deeply, her eyes a little watery. "We went through everything together, Pietro. But now I'm alone."
"I'm doing everything I can," Pietro excused himself. He took Wanda's right hand, toying with the ring around her thumb.
She smiled. "It's okay. We're getting there."
She worked her hand out of his and licked her finger, wiping some stray chocolate from his cheekbone. "How do you even get chocolate up there?"
Pietro shrugged, playfully swatting her hand away.
They strolled back to Avenger Tower, eating their ice creams, joking around. Wanda realized, rather painfully, that this was a youth they could've had, if they had been born in a country that wasn't at war.
Watching children play in the fountains, enjoying the afternoon sun, without having to worry about the next bombing, or even dinner, was a little confrontational.
Wanda hoped that they could build that here, in the United States. Maybe if they got everything together, and Pietro was all better, they could end the war. But not today.
They entered Avenger Tower and wanted to take the elevator to the floor with the guest rooms, but saw a few unfamiliar cars in the park.
Wanda frowned. "Who could that be?"
"I wouldn't know," Pietro shrugged. "Let's take a look. Maybe Stark has invited people and they are having a drink on the fourth floor?"
Pietro and Stark was still an edgy combination, but they could walk past each other now. Stark was trying his best not to agitate Pietro, and Wanda kept saying that 'one day he'd understand'.
One day, he'd understand why Stark contributed to mass murder. Pietro rolled his eyes, trying to divert his mind to a different subject. Stark wasn't really worth it.
They went up to the fourth floor, where Stark would invite guests and hold meetings.
Pietro was nibbling on the cone when the elevator light beeped softly, and a soft, female voice announced that they had indeed arrived on the fourth floor.
"…so then I thought, why not today?" They heard the remainder of a sentence float through the air.
Wanda stiffened a little bit and lifted her hand to Pietro's chest. "Maybe you should wait."
"Why should I?" Pietro said, pushing past Wanda into the living.
Tony was sitting there, together with Pepper. He'd met Pepper a couple weeks ago, when Tony hauled her over to go take a look at the new Avenger HQ. Since Stark Inc. sponsored the whole thing, Pepper was happy Tony let her in on things.
Pepper smiled at him. "Hi, Pietro."
Tony, who was in the middle of a sentence, suddenly looked up. "Hey," he said absently. His gaze passed Pietro and focused on Wanda. "Did… did you go out?"
"We had ice cream." Wanda said casually.
"What's going on?" Pietro frowned. He could feel the awkwardness in the air.
The two people sitting on the couch turned around. The woman didn't mean much to him, but the man sitting next to her shifted something in his mind, like a spark landing on tinder.
A fire blazed through his mind. There were so many flashes, not only visual ones, he could also feel literal pain searing through his bones.
He took a deep breath in through the nose, and vaguely noticed that the remainder of his cone shattered on the floor.
"Pietro?" He heard his sisters voice, as if underwater. He felt two big hands grip his underarms, dragging him to his feet.
"Hey! Is he doing okay? Do we need to do something?" someone else asked.
Pietro noticed someone dragging him towards a couch. He noticed someone grabbing his wrist and feeling his forehead.
The world around him danced up and down, as if he had too much to drink, and a nauseating panic welled up in his chest. Then he blacked out.
…
There was no clear flashback. There were images.
Wanda's face smeared with dust, blood and sweat. Her hands a little shakily in his. Face strained, pain and anger and agony. Thin air barely filled his lungs. He never got the idea of 'thin air' when he read about it in books or saw about it on television, but it seemed clear to him now. It immediately seemed to vaporize in his lungs, and it was as if, however deep he breathed, he never seemed to be able to get enough oxygen in.
He took a deep breath and blinked, and the scenery changed.
Dust filled his nose, and in a flash he saw three things. He saw a jet plummeting through the sky, like an eagle, guns blazing. His eyes followed the trajectory and on its path he saw the Hawk kneeling, big eyed, with a child in his arms.
And just a gentle two foot out of reach, he saw a car. A burnt up, blue sedan. Too far for Hawk to reach, but not for him.
There was another flash, and the world smelled metallic to him. Breathing was weird and heavy and nearly impossible, the world was blurry.
Six words dazed to the surface, and he vaguely heard himself say; "What, you didn't see that coming?", before crashing to the cold, hard ground.
…
There was a cold towel on his forehead and he was lying on something soft.
"Didn't see that coming…?" He murmured.
There was a soft chuckle in the background.
"Maybe it is better if you keep quiet," he heard his sister whisper.
"Oh, I wish the doctor was here!" Tony sighed. "This is by far the most interesting progression you have made since you woke up, Maximoff!"
Pietro sat up, shooting a foul look at Stark. He tasted blood in his mouth. "What happened?"
"I did," a familiar voice said behind him. "And I'm sorry."
"I saw an island in the sky…" He said to his sister.
She frowned and looked up to Stark. "Until now his flashbacks have been… how do you say… in the right order…?"
"Chronological," a lady breastfeeding a baby said from the other couch.
Pietro swallowed another bit of blood and tentatively felt around the cut in his cheek with his tongue, wincing a little when he pushed too hard. "I am really sorry, but am I supposed to know you already?"
The lady shook her head, and he sighed a little relieved. "Good," he said, extending his hand. "My name is Pietro Maximoff."
"Linda," she said. "This is little Nathaniel Pietro Barton."
Pietro frowned. "Excuse me?"
"Maybe this is going a little too quick," Wanda said, moving in front of Pietro protectively.
"Wait, wait, do we talk or do we let him remember?" Tony asked. He'd just poured himself another drink and was observing from a distance, with a spark of amusement in his eyes. Asshole.
"And let him crash to the ground again biting off his own tongue?" Pepper said, a little heated. "I say everyone out and let Wanda get him up to date?"
"Shouldn't someone who was there get him up to date?" The man with the familiar voice said. Now Pietro turned to look at him, he saw it was the Hawk from his flash.
"Can everyone please shut up?" he asked.
All heads turned, and Pepper grinned a little.
"Why is there a baby named after me?" he asked.
"What did you see, Pietro?" Wanda sat down next to him and took his hand. This little contact anchored him, made him feel more secure and less alone in that big room.
"The island was floating in the sky. There was a smell of dust and ashes." Pietro bit his lip. "There was the roaring of jet engines in my ears and the taste of blood in my mouth. I collapsed to the ground and everything turned black."
The Hawk sat down in front of him, next to Linda. "You saved my life there, Pietro." He said. "You did, and now you can't even remember what your mother smelled like."
"Cinnamon and sawdust." Pietro said.
Wanda smiled, "He's getting better at it."
"Can I know who he is?" Pietro asked his sister.
"Who do you think he is?" Tony asked.
Pietro glanced up at the man. Looking at him made his breath go faster and his heartbeat go up. "The Hawk."
Tony chuckled a little. "Yes, well, in fact…"
"Who are you?" Pietro asked again, staring at his hands.
There was a short silence, before he said. "Clint Barton."
"Barton," Pietro repeated. The name didn't sound familiar to him. "I don't know who you are."
"Well," Barton shrugged. "You saved my life. We thought you were dead for a bit and…" he stopped abruptly when Wanda glanced at him, sharply.
"You thought what?" Pietro looked up. There was another wave of nausea, so he looked back down again.
"Pietro, are you okay?" Wanda asked softly in their own language.
He silently shook his head.
"Could you please leave?" Wanda asked Barton. She wrapped an arm around her brother. "Keep breathing," she whispered.
When everyone had left the room, Wanda pulled him a little more upright. "What happened?"
"Wanda," Pietro said, his voice a little unstable. "Did I die?"
