A/N: Well, here's a short little one-shot for our little piece to donate to the misery. We had a death in our family this past week. We were just looking for the right way to let it out.
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Why didn't he run? He could've saved himself. He could still be alive. Dammit, why did he have to die? Why did I have to be the one to kill him?
Her thoughts were on the night that she had killed him. She didn't mean to. It was an accident. She had expected him to get out of the way...to run.
But he hadn't, and now he was dead. He would never come back. He would only remain as a memory in the heart of his sister...his murderer.
Why him, why not me? Why did he have to die, when I finally did believe him? Why did he have to leave me with so much guilt?
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Wanda had been raging again. This time it was in a restraunt, and her entire family was there. There was no one there to stop her.
Her eyes had narrowed in rage almost immeadiatly at the site of her brother and father talking. The stange cobalt blue glow to her hands alerted anyone nearby that now was the time to leave. The only person who didn't notice was her own father.
Looking to see what she could use, her eyes fell on the dinner of a couple who had already fled. The plates were empty giving her a direct idea. She had hexed the plate to crash into his head. The china was hard, but still broke, and caused a strange unconciousness.
"So, care to tell me what you two were talking about?" Her voice hinted her disgust. She was trying to calm herself, like Agatha had taught her.
"He wants to capture you, and lock you up again. I'm trying to get him to reconsider." Pietro spoke, knowing that she wouldn't believe him, especially when that was the truth. He had always tried to tell her truth, but now, she didn't listen.
"Yeah right," her sarcastic reply hurt him deeply.
"Look, I'm sorry about you being locked away in the aslym (sp?). But I had no control over anything that had happened then." Wanda just gave the non-chalant 'pfft' as a reply. "We were only eight. What did you expect me to do?"
"Fight harder."
She took and hexed four knives at her now standing brother. She had expected him to run, and get away, and avoid being killed. But no... All the hexed knive had stabbed him; one each to his shoulders, one to his leg, and one to his stomache.
Wanda's cold expression had turned to sadness then. She had expected him to run to get out of the way, but he didn't.
"Why?" was the only question able to come from her as she knelt down next to her dying brother.
"You wouldn't've believed me otherwise." He gave a faint smile as he slowly slipped away. But he managed to say one last thing, "I love you."
"I love you too." Wanda broke down into tears then. She quickly composed herself before her father woke up, and fled.
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Why did I let my anger get in my way? Why did I let it blind me to the truth?