Authors Note: This chapter will contain some themes of antiziganism. My purpose is not to make anyone feel uncomfortable with their Roma/Romani heritage or to be offensive towards Roma people. This is simply to highlight the discrimination and abuse Romani people still face, something Marvel has often failed to address in their own works despite it being crucial to some characters. Please leave any constructive criticism and thank you for reading!

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The sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks was calming. Something about the cool air, the warm sun, and bright laughter from the families on the public beach just felt right. That's what the grown Neve Barnick thought as she stood at the edge of the beach, staring out towards the water. A small smile crossed her face as she watched young children run straight into the ocean, jumping wildly against the waves. That type of innocence fascinated her; captured her in a swirl of nostalgia and longing.

"Yikes, girlie!" a young man's voice hollered on her left, "How're you not burning up in that get-up?" Neve glanced at the man. He was lean with long, sandy blonde hair that his pretty brown eyes peaked out of. The man looked like the typical surfing beach bum. It was true that Neve wasn't exactly dressed for the beach. She was wearing a dark black jacket, dark jeans and rubber military boots with a light backpack strapped onto her shoulders. Gloves covered her hands and arms, as if she were hiding them from the rest of the world. Neve's smile slowly faded into a stoic, annoyed scowl.

"Ich bin gut," Neve replied, her thick German accent showing, "I'm perfectly fine. The heat doesn't bother me." Neve figured speaking in joint English and German would get the point across. She was a foreigner, an immigrant, but that didn't mean she couldn't speak fluid English. There was something about sticking it to the Americans and showing her fluency off, almost like a badge of honor.

"If you say so," the man replied, chuckling as he drew closer, "I've noticed your accent. I suppose you're new around here. Need a guide?" He laid his arm across her shoulders and pulled himself in closer to her. Neve glared, trying to move away from his advances.

"I do need a guide, yes. But if you'd kindly remove your-"

"Well sure you do!" The man interrupted, his own hand slinking down to grope her waist as he pulled her closer to his bare chest, "New York is practically a maze for foreigners like you!" Neve pushed herself away from the man, sending him flying onto the sand. Once he hit the ground, he backed up on his elbows and stared at Neve in bewilderment at her strength. He wasn't too incredibly fit, but he wasn't weak either. How could such a scrawny looking woman throw him down to the ground.

"You're lucky I didn't do worse," Neve said, walking away towards the wooden walkway that led back to the city, "I can kill you, you know. Learn to keep those hands to yourself." She walked away. The man quickly scrambled up and ran away.

"Fucking Nazi bitch." he breathlessly murmured as he ran. Neve smirked at the remark and continued walking up the steps towards the city. She stared up, looking at the skyscrapers that towered over and watched as cars whipped past her as she waltzed down the sidewalk. She didn't have much purpose or direction in such a new world. Neve wasn't ignorant on American customs, but it still felt so different than what she was used to. Then again, what she was used to wasn't normal for her own country either.

So Neve just kept walking, eventually making her way to a gorgeous small park. There wasn't anything to special about it, just a simple walkway surrounded by grass and trees with a moss covered stone fountain at the center. Neve stared at the fountain with pity; such a beautiful thing reduced to grime and trash...

"Horrible isn't it?" a male voice behind her asked. Neve spun around quickly, backing away in fright. She stared at the man who also looked taken aback by her sudden reaction. He was dressed in a dark burgundy jacket and light blue dress shirt. A dark blue ball cap sat on his head, his hair carefully tucked into the hat to perfectly cover every last strand of hair. The man had dark olive skin, but oddly enough his eyes were a piercing icy blue.

"Whoa, my apologies," the man replied in a bit of a surprised tone, "Didn't mean to scare you, miss." He spoke with an noticeably thick Russian accent. Neve stared at him with hesitation, not letting down her guard as she observed whether or not he was a threat. The man seemed oblivious to Neve's defensive stance, gently smirking and attempting to coax a word from her.

"New to the city? I can show you around if you wish." Neve didn't reply. "You know...I don't understand why they keep that poor fountain so filthy, they really ought to clean it. I'd bet it'd look gorgeous...Are you an immigrant too?" Neve finally assessed that the man was just a simple idiot, and finally relaxed.

"How did you guess?" Neve asked.

"Oh, I can just tell," the man replied, "When people look at me or hear my voice, and their first reaction isn't to raise their eyebrow and ask where I'm from or call me a gypsy, I can generally tell they're not an American." The man chuckled a bit, extending his hand. "Pietro Maximoff."

"Neve Barnick." Neve replied, shaking the man's hand with a soft grip. She searched for any suspicion in Pietro's eyes but only saw a glimmer of delight. For the first time, Neve felt actually welcome in a country she had no experience with. What better way to be formally welcomed by a polite, and rather handsome, gentleman.

"Want to take a walk, Ms Barnick?" Pietro asked, gesturing towards the city. He still loosely held her hand; it was up to her whether to pull away or not. Neve's cheeks glowed a soft pink, but her eyes still looked neutral and blank.

"Yes," Neve replied gently removing her hand, "That'd be fine." Pietro's eyes buzzed with excitement.

"Great!" Pietro cried out, locking his arm around hers and swiftly pulling towards her the city. Neve was surprised at how forward he was, but she could hardly pull away from him in time before she was walking alongside him, heading towards a bustling sidewalk of people. There was something about the strange man; his smile, his accent, his eccentric and mysterious charm? Whatever it was, Neve couldn't help but to blush with child-like wonder. Wasn't she too old for crushes, she thought to herself as practically dragged her through into the city.

Suddenly the calm sounds of the waves and the empty park turned into loud hollering, cars honking, and a thunder of footsteps as people went about their day. Neve stared at the buildings, the shiny windows reflecting off the warm early summer sun. Each store they seemed to pass had bright neon lights in it, showing off the latest technology or newest film. Synth music burst from radios as teens with their puffy perms, musty mullets, and bejeweled jean jackets ran out of stores and arcades, their arms full of goodies and expensive toys. Kids weaved in between the stuffy businessmen and women, their hair slicked back or held in a tight bun; Neve couldn't help but stare at the women's gorgeous heels, all sleek and sparkly, ranging in colors from white to black to lipstick red. Everything looked so bright and colorful, the hustle and bustle of the city filling all the senses with an intensity not found anywhere else. Pietro pointed at every building he recognized or could make comment on: the department store, the arcade, the best cafe in the whole city, the roller rink.

"And just down this street," Pietro exclaimed as he rushed around a corner, "we can find a farmer's market. Am I going too fast for you? People tend to say I'm too hyperactive." He looked at Neve, who stared back at him, a bit frazzled but completely focused.

"Oh no, not at all," Neve replied, "You're fine. It's just a lot of things to take in all at once. That farmer's market does sound lovely though." Pietro's eyes perked up again, Neve held her breath in anticipation at his next spontaneous move.

"Then we should explore it for a while! I have no place to be...if that's okay with you, of course, Neve." Neve nodded at the suggestion. Her name rolling off his tongue felt so satisfying. Pietro gently pulled her forward down the street, which in comparison, was far more quiet and had more space to walk. The street was temporarily closed off but lining the sidewalks and roadway were rickety wooden stands filled with fresh fruits, vegetables, pastries, and even small household trinkets. Neve felt a sudden wave of nostalgia wash over her. She could vaguely remember her parents taking her to the farmer's markets in Germany when she was younger. The joy was overwhelming at its initial peak, but soon dwindled as the thought of her parents pushes her into a melancholic mood.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Pietro, tapping Neve on the shoulder as they walked past the first few stands. Neve pulled herself from her trancelike state and looked up into Pietro's soft blue eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just thought of some bad memories is all...let's keep going." Neve quickly marched ahead as Pietro followed behind, his face scrunched into a look of concern for Neve. Neve kept walking, keeping her head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, and glancing to the side, examining each stand quickly before dismissing it. This pattern repeated rapidly until a stand of adorable little trinkets caught her eye. They were small figurines of angels and girls in traditional German dresses. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the adorable trinkets, a small smile spreading across her face. Neve lifted one up to examine the fine details. The figure was of a porcelain cherub, the little pale white body adorned in gorgeous flowers. The playful cherub was smiling, leaning against a porcelain branch with content, its bright rosy cheeks as plump and full as the figure's belly. Neve lifted another familiar figure into her hands; this one a porcelain girl with yellow braided pigtails falling onto her lederhosen as she blew gently into a flute or pipe of some kind. How merry the figurines looked, crafted into eternal bliss and joy. They reminded Neve so much of her mother who stored all her precious figurines in a small glass box hidden away in her father's study. Neve could never play with the figures as a child, only look. But sometimes, it was better to look.

"Would you like to buy them, Fräulein?" The elderly man behind the stand asked. Neve stared at the figures a bit longer and nodded at the man. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some coins. If there's one thing that was a pain in the ass, it was having to convert all of her money—what little she had—into American currency. She gave the older man her money, and he smiled gently, wrapping the figures in soft wrapping before securing them in a box with a blue bow tie wrapped around the lid.

"Danke mein Herr." Neve said, taking the gently wrapped box, giving the man a warm smile. Though the man seemed slightly taken aback at her sudden German, he quickly chuckled and waved her off as she began walked towards other little stands.

"Bitte schön, meine junge Dame." the man called out after her. Neve gave a small wave back at the man and quickly searched for Pietro, who was occupied at a nearby stand, lifting an antique mirror, glaring at his reflection. Pietro lightly brushed the little tufts of hair peaking from his hat, trying to shove the impatient curls into the ball cap. He mumbled curses under his breath as he pushed the tufts away. She couldn't catch what color they were though they looked to be more blonde. Neve approached slowly, a perplexed look on her face.

"Why do you hide your hair that way?" She asked Pietro suddenly, who jumped at being startled. He held the mirror up towards his face, as though shielding himself from her with it. "What a silly man," Neve thoughts herself, gently tapping Pietro's arm. "Hey, I asked you a question, Mr Maximoff." He peaked his head from behind the mirror, a smirk on his face and a chuckle escaping his lips.

"I'm not hiding my hair," he claimed, "Just adjusting it. A man has to preserve his fashion, no?" Though Neve hadn't noticed it before, Pietro was dressed rather dapper for a seemingly younger man.

"Wouldn't you want to show off your hair then?" Neve questioned, getting closer to him, hands on her hips. "After all, fashion is more than just the clothes on your back. Wouldn't you agree, Mr Maximoff?" Neve smirked right back at Pietro, and watched as he stared back with admiration, though obvious surprise.

"You're pretty snappy, Ms Barnick."

"So are you. And rather secretive too. Tell me the real reason you wear that hat."

"Is this really any way to speak to a strange man you just met?"

"Oh, so I suppose grabbing my arm and flinging me about through the city is a normal American introduction?"

"You'd be surprised."

"I guess I would." Neve continued to look intently at his blue ball cap. "So, you won't show me what's under that hat of yours."

"Why do you care so much about my hair?" Pietro asked, defensively.

"Look, Mr Maximoff, I don't mean to pry, but you're the first person to be decent and welcoming towards me. I want to be able to trust you. To know that maybe you could help me find somewhere to stay or at least help me get settled."

"What, you don't trust me enough as is?"

"I'd trust no one at this early of a meeting." Neve said firmly. Pietro sighed.

"Look," he began, "I'm a bit ashamed of my appearance in public, my hair most of all. If you'd like to go somewhere private where we can talk and arrange a place for you to-"

"There's the bitch!" A male voice behind them cried out in surprise. "The one from the beach, it's her!" Neve and Pietro sharply turned around. Oh great, Neve thought, that douche from the beach. It was in fact the man from the beach, only this time he was accompanied by a group of tough looking, thuggish teens. Neve clenched her fist as the group approached.

"What gives you the right to humiliate me that way?" The blonde man asked, getting up close to Neve's face, his eyes full of rage. "You gonna say something, you little-"

"Step back...now." Pietro interrupted in a terse tone, standing in front of Neve as he shoved the man aside. The man seemed to recognize Pietro and a more rage filled scowl painted his face.

"You've got a lot of nerve." The man replied, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Stay out of this Gypsy Davy, unless you want us to kick that shit out of you again." In the blink of an eye Pietro threw a punch at the guy square in the jaw. The man fell almost as soon as he had finished speaking, landing on the ground with a hard thud, yelping in pain. He glared at Pietro who now towered over him, Pietro's eyes piercing the man with a stubborn, violent anger.

"I said back off." Pietro emphasized. "Call me that again and I'll knock the wind out of your lungs." The blonde man heaved in anger and pushed himself off the ground.

"Get 'em, boys!" He hollered at the teens, who all clamored to take a swing at either Pietro or Neve. Neve's fight or flight instincts kicked in and she could feel the energy rising in her, ready to fire when suddenly she felt herself being lifted into the air. In a flash she felt herself zip past each thug at inhuman speed, weaving between their poorly thrown punches and wavering attacks. Before she could process much else it all stopped and there she was, slung over Pietro's shoulder in a narrow alleyway just past the farmer's market. She could hear yelling in the distance from bystanders who had witnessed the fight, as the teens began their hunt, yelling where the fast bastard had run off to.

Pietro gently put Neve down, and caught his breath, leaning against the brick wall. He stared at Neve waiting for some kind of reaction, not paying attention to anything else. Neve stared back at him, her mouth agape and her eyes wide with shock. Pietro sighed.

"I'm sorry I had to carry you that way." He said a bit embarrassed. "I couldn't let those thugs hurt you and I couldn't think of any other way to escape. I suppose you think I'm some sort of freak...but that doesn't matter...this is who I am, and I feel no shame for it." Pietro lifted his head, proud of his mutant status shame, but he suddenly heard Neve chuckling sweetly.

"Is that your natural hair color?" Neve asked, pointing at Pietro's head. Pietro looked back at her, confused, and that's when he saw it. Neve was clutching his blue ball cap in her hand; she must've grabbed it when I was carrying her, Pietro thought. Pietro tried to cover his hair but Neve quickly stopped him.

"Ah, ah! Don't cover it, it's such a pretty color!" Neve exclaimed. Pietro removed his hands and his face became flushed. His hair was a short, messy tangle of curls as white as freshly fallen snow; the type of white you'd only see on the very old. Two little curls made up his bangs, but the peculiar thing was that they looked as if they stuck straight in the air like antenna, separate from the rest of his wavy hair. It was gorgeous.

"Yes, it's natural." Pietro said softly, looking deep into Neve's eyes. "You...you really think it looks good?" Neve's smile only grew wider.

"Of course!" She exclaimed. "It matches your eyes perfectly. You look so...wonderful." Pietro's eyes gleamed with a loving wonder, as though he'd seen an angel before him. He'd had experiences with women before, but not for a long time. He was older, more mature now, and yet, the feelings of his boyhood romances overflowed. Neve started to blush a bit. It made her feel stupid feeling attracted to a stranger, internally kicking herself for being so impulsive in that one instance. Don't be an idiot, Neve. You're not allowed to have weak emotions. But as Neve's eyes met Pietro's, that girlish crush came flooding back into her mind.

A crush. A small glimmer of affection. A spark. Too early to be called love, but too intense to be ignored.

"There they are!" The teens screamed, rushing towards the alley where the two stood. Pietro grabbed onto Neve's arm but she stepped away from him.

"Don't worry," she said, "I got it this time." She stood in front of Pietro and removed her black gloves. Instead of skin, a shiny metal appeared on her hands, a blue wiring running down from the arm onto her hand. Pietro backed away in horror as a blue light began to emit from Neve's hands; he could feel the heat of the burning laser from where he stood as Neve charged them up. In an instant Neve raised her arms towards the thugs and set off a blast of our cyan. The teens tried to dodge, rolling and jumping out of the way to no avail. The blast was small, clearly not at full power, and while incapacitated by the blast of raw, burning energy, they seemed uninjured. Slight burns charred their clothes but not much else. Neve could hear the screams from bystanders, sending her into a trance state once again. She could hear the screams of children again, ripping her mind apart. Her mind grew heavy with regret as she remembered all the blood on her hands.

"You...have powers." Pietro's voice said, breaking through to Neve. He looked shocked but oddly pleased, Neve gazed at his expression, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. "You're like me." He finally said. Neve looked at him blankly. You could never be like me. Before she knew it, Pietro grabbed her hand excitedly. "I have the perfect place for you to stay." Police sirens erupted in the distance. "That's our cue, Ms Barnick." With that, Pietro lifted her up once more and ran off, faster than anyone could comprehend.