{Author's Note: WARNING: This chapter contains self-harm as well as mentions of past child abuse. Please find someone to talk to if you feel depressed or if you are in danger, and reach out to those who might be to afraid to ask for help.

To a guest reviewer: The fight at the airport will make an appearance. I haven't completely decided how I'm going to do it yet, and I don't want to give too much away. But I'll say I plan to have at least one x-men character be involved. I hope that satisfies your curiosity. }

ERIK POV

After the dramatic end to the hunt for Barnes, Erik had been the perfect little soldier, which had painfully reminded him of his time spent under Shaw's thumb. He'd followed Rhodes orders and used his powers to keep Barnes under his control until the metal suited man had gotten his government contacts to bring a large confining mobile cage to them. He'd also stripped Cap of his shield and Falcon of his wings, which had earned him some glares—mostly from Wilson—along with a few snide remarks, all from Wilson.

After that, Erik had ridden with Cap, Falcon, and the Wakandan Prince—T'Challa—to Berlin where Barnes would be kept for the time being, until whoever was in charge decided what to do with him.

The ride to yet another government facility, had been silent for the most part. The Wakandan Prince gave him some curious looks, obviously wondering what his story was but not caring enough to inquire, he evidently had other preoccupations on his mind, such as murdering the Winter Soldier.

Rogers and Wilson had been quite as well, though they shared quiet conversations among themselves that Erik couldn't hear. Though at one point the Captain had addressed Erik saying, 'I understand why your helping them. Don't let it weigh on you.' Rogers spoke to Erik as if he were the younger man, which technically going off birthdates he was, but by years actually awake on the earth, Erik had some years on the soldier. The man shouldn't be speaking to Erik as if he were in over his head.

As soon as Barnes had been secured in his moveable cage and Erik could let his guard down, he'd asked—which was putting it politely—Rhodes when an aircraft would be summoned to take him back to America. The Avenger had replied that Erik needed to remain with Barnes' escort until they reached Berlin. Then they would make the necessary arrangements, but hours later, they were in Berlin and Rhodes was no where to be found.

Erik had watched as a whole troop of soldiers or government officials or some sort of trained monkeys in one form or another had escort Barnes deep within the Berlin facility. Erik thought he had been very well-behaved throughout this entire ordeal, especially considering everyone seemed to either ignore Erik or shoo him away when he tried to talk to someone that looked to be in charge, but now his patience was wearing thin.

Soon he'd be likely to snap and kidnap someone who even slightly resembled a pilot to get back to the U.S. of A. The only thing that had stopped him from doing just that thus far was the knowledge that any ill-advised behavior on Erik's part may make Ross go back on his word to help his children form a safe and happy life in this world.

But as the time passed, Erik's ability to hold onto this rational was quickly fading. He couldn't be expected to wait forever, but unless someone paid him some attention soon, there would likely start to be bodies left in his wake. Being civil was getting him nowhere, so as much as Erik knew it might not be wise to do so, he was very close to changing tactics.

Erik had no idea where Rhodes, Captain Rogers, Wilson, or even T'Challa were. Obviously even the ones now considered criminals had been deemed more important than him and had been escorted off elsewhere. Whereas, he'd just been given civilian clothes—more plaid. really?—and been shoved off as far from everyone else as possible, though no one seemed to be truly worried that he'd cause any trouble for it seemed everyone had forgotten about him.

As he'd wandered through the compound every person he encountered rushed by him. Erik didn't even bother to try to stop most of them, as many looked like no more than interns who though maybe would be able to get Erik a cup of coffee, would in no way be able to get him a flight out of Berlin.

Tired of being considered inconsequential, and missing his children, he wished not for the first time that he possessed Azazel's teleportation abilities, or even that the man was still alive and in this world to assist him. But being that none of those options were actually possible, Erik decided he had waited long enough for action, and it was time he showed everyone here why they should never consider him insignificant.

Forcing his way into a restricted area in search of Rhodes or even Mac and his partner, Erik caused an uproar as he broke through sealed doors and shoved people out of his way with his powers. He hadn't killed anyone yet, but if people kept screaming at him to cease and desist in English and German, he just might.

As he walked into a new room, his destruction was cut short when Natasha Romanoff appeared as if out of thin air—Erik was impressed by her stealth skills—and walked right up to him. Thinking she might actually be able to get some shit done, like helping Erik cross an ocean, he didn't stop her.

"Mr. Lensherr, you do know how to make an entrance. You know, if you wanted to see me, you could have just knocked." Her lip twitched up on one side in a small smile as she spoke.

Anger nowhere near quelled, though something about her tone of voice seemed to put him at ease, Erik replied, "I didn't come here to see you, I came here because—"

"Will you take a walk with me?" said Natasha cutting him off.

Who did this woman think she was that she could just interrupt him mid-sentence without fear of the consequences?

His reason for tearing through the compound was not forgotten, but her daring deserved a reply, "What if I say no? I didn't come her for a stroll. I—"

"I'll persuade you." Said Natasha cutting him off again.

How irritating this woman was. Continually interrupting him, yet for some reason he didn't have the urge to strangle her. Nonetheless, Erik was still very much aware of all the metal in the room. He could be very persuasive too. But Natasha seemed to know this as she responded, "Come on Mr. Lensherr. You're making the nice government employees nervous. We both know you don't have to come with me, but I'd like it very much if you would. You can come barging back in here if you don't like what I have to say."

Erik wasn't sure what it was about her that calmed him down, perhaps it was Erik the note of sincerity in her voice or the obvious truth of her statement, but for one reason or another, he relented.

"Very well." He said, allowing Natasha to escort him from the room. He could almost feel the tension dimension as he left and the relief of the others in the room.

Once they backtracked through a few doors, Erik spoke up, "Are you going to assist me? Because I don't plan to waste my time on a walk with you, if you do not intend to be useful. I am in need of—"

"a ride back to the states I know." said Natasha. Erik was starting to grow use to her interruptions. "I'm actually surprised you waited this long before making an appearance. I was beginning to think they had sent you back already. Give me a half an hour, and I'll have a jet ready to take you wherever your heart desires. And I think we both know where that will be."

"Are you really going to be able to deliver on that? It seems to me you may just as easily be indulging my wishes with false promises to dissuade me from making a scene." Said Erik. He might be gaining some respect for this audacious woman, but that didn't mean he trusted her.

Natasha gave him a calculated smile, "The jet will be here. You might not be aware of it, but Tony is here too. You may not have made friends with him, but if I tell him you're willingly going to put an entire ocean between the two of you, he'd happily buy a new jet—probably even an airport—to make that happen. I think being in the presence of a man who can control metal, makes Tony a bit worried that he might have…shall we say, performance issues being that he frequently masquerades publicly as Iron Man."

Her explanation seemed reasonable enough, but he wasn't quite ready to believe her just yet, "You and Mr. Stark aren't worried about upsetting Secretary Ross? Despite doing as I was asked, the man hasn't taken the time to formally release me from my 'employment,' and I'm not sure he's done with me just yet. Yet, you're willing to go against him?"

"I'm not going against him. I'm going around him. It's very different." said Natasha calmly giving him a little shrug. "Besides, neither Tony nor I are impeccable models when it comes to following the rules."

"And yet you both signed the Accords." Replied Erik. "That seems like a move a rule follower would make, and I think it makes it pretty clear as to where you stand."

"Does it though? You oppose the Accords, and yet you brought in Barnes. I know you have your reasons for doing so, two of which are back at the Avengers' Compound. Well I have my reasons for every one of my actions, Erik…even if they might not be so visible."

Erik mulled over her words. She hadn't really revealed anything with that statement, so Erik commented on the one thing he felt she might actually reply to, "We're on a first name basis now are we, Natasha?"

"I think we ought to be, don't you? Otherwise this makes are private stroll a little awkward." said Natasha raising one eyebrow at him.

Erik should be agitated by her words, but there was just something about her that kept his anger in check, and made him accept her banter. Perhaps in another life, they would have been friends...or more. But still Erik wasn't much in the mood for jests, so he ignored her comment, "So you want me to wait here quietly until this jet arrives?"

"That would be preferable. Just try not to break anything…or anyone and getting you out of here won't be a problem. Here," said Natasha handing him a cell phone. "I'll let you know when your ride is ready, until then, just try to relax. Take a walk, though don't break down any doors to do so, and you'll be on your way back to see your children before you know it. Wanda and Vision's numbers are programmed in there too, why don't you try calling them. Talk to your kids if they're up, and the time will fly by."

Erik hadn't even thought to ask for one of this century's mobile telephones. He could have been checking in with his children all this time. Guilt rose up in Erik. He wasn't accustomed to this world/time's amenities, but that wasn't an excuse. He should've have remembered such devices existed, but he hadn't. And Natasha could have not even mentioned the possibility of such a long distance phone call, and he would have been none the wiser, but she didn't. She knew he would want to reach them.

"I will try that…Natasha. Thank you."

She gave him a smile smile again, "Wow. I got a thank you. I have a feeling you don't hand those out very easily."

"No…I do not."

There was silence between them for a bit, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, it just was.

"Well I should go get that ride of yours arranged. Thank you, Erik, for the walk." said Natasha as she turned around, and started heading back the way they'd come.

Erik watched her go, and was just about to head off in the other direction and to find a more private place to take up her suggestion to call his kids, when she turned back around.

"Oh, by the way, Erik. I'm glad the flannel fits. I wasn't exactly sure what size you were, but it looks like a chose correctly." Before he could respond, with a sly smile she turned on her heel and walked off.

Well at least that explained why they kept giving him plaid shirts, and who found it so humorous.

PIETRO POV

Meanwhile…

Pietro was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. He'd just woken up from a nightmare, and he had no intention of risking a return to that particular expanse of dreamland anytime soon, so sleep was off the table for the time being, at least until tomorrow night.

As far as nightmares went, it had been a pretty bad one. Not only had he been dreaming of his time at the facility when they'd force him to run lap after lap until he would collapse of fatigue and hunger unable to find the strength to move an inch, but the dream had also been even worse this time as Bryan had made an appearance in it too. Pietro's step-uncle had come over to him after Pietro had fallen face down onto the hard ground, unable to finish another lap. Then Bryan had knelt down next to him, holding Pietro's arms down to keep him from struggling. Unable to do anything, though Pietro tried so hard to get away, the boy had been forced to experience the demons of his childhood again on top of the horrors of the facility before he'd woken himself up as he fell off his bed screaming, sweaty, and tangled in sheets.

Pietro shook his head quickly, trying to physically clear away any lingering images of the recent nightmare. He wished Erik was still here. If he had been, he probably would have been at his post beside Pietro's bed, waking him up before the nightmare got too bad. But Erik was gone, and though Pietro understood why that didn't make it any easier.

He considered waking up Wanda, but then what would say. 'Umm…I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?' He wasn't a little kid anymore. He shouldn't and couldn't go crying to his sister, especially when they were the same age, though she reiterated the fact that she was 12 minutes older than him frequently enough that he had to remind himself that 12 minutes to her was just 12 minutes, it wasn't actually that long of a time.

So instead of bothering his sister, he'd come out to the Avengers' kitchen, to get a glass of water because he really couldn't think of anything better to do. Maybe he'd try drinking a glass of warm milk instead. That's supposed to help people sleep, right? Though it sounded pretty disgusting in Pietro's opinion. Milk should be cold.

Reaching to grab a glass from the cupboard above the sink, Pietro noticed someone had left a large shiny silver knife sitting in the dish rack along with a few other dishes. Glass forgotten, Pietro reached over and picked up the knife. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but it felt right in his hand.

Pietro looked at his reflection in the knife's gleaming blade. His hair was as silver as always and disheveled from sleep or lack there of. His pale face stared back at him and he noticed his cheekbones seemed more prominent than the used to thanks to the facility's extreme diet plan.

As he looked at the knife he thought about all the horrible memories held within his mind, and how much he wanted them out of his head. He'd never hurt himself before, even when he had been dealing with Bryan. He'd tried to be brave and strong for his mom and his sisters. He looked deep inside himself for that strength, but he just couldn't seem to find it, so he lowered the blade to his arm, making a thin cut across his wrist.

It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. A pain he could control. He watched the blood ooze from the cut. It was a brilliant red color and shone brightly, almost beautifully, over his near-translucent skin. As the blood dripped into the sink, he let himself imagine that all of the bad things that had ever happened to him, were going down the drain with it. On some level, it seemed to be working. As the blood flowed, he felt cleaner, and his head clearer. But then he found his eyes focusing on the branded X on his arm and then on the tattoos on his other arm, and he felt dirty and damaged all over again.

I just want to be in control of my life.

Still clutching the knife in his right hand, Pietro went to make another thin cut on his arm below the first one when red energy engulfed the knife and it flew from his hand sticking in the wall just above the counter's backsplash as a voice near shouting level cried out behind him, "What the hell are you doing!?"

AVENGERS' WANDA POV

A few minutes earlier…

Wanda was a pretty light sleeper, and though the walls in the Avengers' compound weren't paper thin, she could still hear the doors of the rooms near hers open and close, which just a few minutes ago, one had done. It was still technically night, but she had found herself unable to sleep. It happened sometimes, not as frequently as it used to as the time since Pietro's passing grew, but it still happened.

So when she heard the door of someone else's room open, a tell tale sign that another person was awake, she figured she would go see who it was, just to have something to do. If it was the other Wanda or Pie—Peter than she could see if something was the matter. Even if Erik didn't want her getting too close to them, she wasn't just going to ignore them if they needed something. He had eventually come to accept her training sessions with his daughter, so she figured it would be okay.

Walking into the kitchen she saw the lithe outline of the boy with silver hair. Still in his pajamas—Hawkeye themed, though she guessed he probably didn't even know what/who the bow and arrow on his shirt represented—it looked like he was getting a glass of water, as his back was to her and he was leaning over the kitchen sink. Yet, she thought it was rather odd that he wasn't getting the filtered water from the fridge and the sink water wasn't running either.

Puzzled now, Wanda walked closer until she could see him from the side. That's when she noticed the dazed look on his face, the knife inching toward his wrist, and the blood dripping from his arm. Along with terror for the boy, the sight brought forth a sisterly instinct she thought had disappeared.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she cried out, using her powers to wrench the knife from his hand. She then quickly grabbed a clean towel from kitchen drawer as she made her way over to him. Reaching the boy, she carefully grabbed his arm and wrapped the towel around the bleeding cut. He flinched when she made contact, but didn't pull away.

"I don't—I didn't mean—nothing." said Pietro stumbling over his words.

"This doesn't look like nothing." said Wanda keeping pressure on the wound. "What were you thinking? Why would you do this to yourself?"

He didn't respond right away. He just stared at her then at the spot at the wall were the knife was lodged, "I just…I don't know…" He looked down at his feet before saying softly, "Please don't tell Wanda."

Wanda chose to ignore the request for the time being. He sounded so lost and hurt that if she tried to address anything other than the fact that his arm needed tending to, she might forget that she had no real connection to the boy, and pull him close to give him a hug until all of his pain went away.

"I need to clean and bandage your arm. Hopefully it won't need stitches. Come. And keep pressure on that." said Wanda nodding to his injured arm while she guided him using his him by the elbow of his uninjured arm toward the nearest bathroom where she knew a first aid kit would be available. Vision insisted it was important to keep numerous kits close at hand for the safety of the members of the team who weren't quite as durable as others.

When they reached the bathroom, she led him to the closed toilet seat, at which point she put her hands on his shoulders, gently but forcibly prompting him to sit, while she pulled out the first-aid kit from under the sink.

Pietro had remained silent throughout this entire process, which worried Wanda more.

What is he thinking? God, why would he do this?

"Okay. I need to look at it now." said Wanda kneeling down in front of Pietro and pulling the towel away, a red stain now marking its formerly pristine white color. "I don't think you need stitches. It's not as deep as I thought." But it was still deep enough to worry her. The fact that it existed at all worried her.

Standing up again, Wanda wet a washcloth and proceed to clean the cut, being as gentle as possible. "Are you going to tell me why you did this?" she asked.

The boy looked around the room, anywhere but at her. Finally, he said, "Are you going to tell my sister?...or my dad?"

"That depends." said Wanda as she focused on applying Neosporin to his cut. "Are you going to do this again? And are you going to answer my other question?"

"I was just…checking how sharp your knives are….Answer: very sharp. Top grade cooking utensils you've got here." said the boy, trying to appear chipper, but his voice cracked at the end.

"Pie—Peter…I'm being serious. This is serious." said Wanda in a warning tone.

"Look. It's—it's not a big deal. I wasn't thinking. I won't do it again. I plea momentary insanity. PleaseDon'tTellThem." Said Pietro finally looking at Wanda with huge imploring brown eyes that tugged at Wanda's heart. A single tear fell from one of his eyes, but he didn't wipe it away. Maybe he didn't even notice it.

She had the resist the urge to reach up and wipe the tear away herself. The boy really had wormed his way into her heart, and she'd tried so desperately to keep him at bay after Erik's warning.

Taking Wanda's silence to mean that she was going to tell them, he pleaded with her, "My dad would probably blow a gasket, and my sister would flip out too. She would just blow this out of proportion. She thinks she has to take care of me because she's twelve minutes older, but she doesn't need to! Ya know? We're twins. That's not how it's supposed to work."

Wanda felt a mix of sadness and nostalgia at the boy's words.

So he's the younger twin. Maybe things would've been different if I'd been the older one. Maybe then Pietro would have let me be more protective of him, and he'd still be here.

"Yes. I do know, but their concern would be warranted, Peter. This is a big deal. It's not okay to hurt yourself. If you start feeling like you're going to do something like this, you have to talk to someone. You don't have to tell me…I know some bad things happened to you before you came here, but there are so many people here that care about you too much to let you do this to yourself…"

Wanda paused hoping her words were getting through to him. "Not so long ago, I lost someone very close to me…my brother, and I—I wanted to die. I felt like I was already dead, so there was no point to keep on living. I even tried to kill myself, but Vision saved me. I wasn't happy to be saved at first, but now I'm glad he did save me. It's harder some days than others to keep going on, but I realized P—my brother wouldn't want me to die. He'd want me to live…for both of us." Wanda finished, struggling to keep her emotions at bay as she finished wrapping Pietro's arm in gauze.

When she was done she didn't release his arm, instead she took his hand in both of hers, trying to make him believe her words. She kept her gaze on his arms for a moment, taking in the sight of his freshly bandaged arm, as well as the branded X above it and the tattoos on his other arm that clearly, all of which were clearly not put there by choice. What she really wanted to do was look into his mind and see how they came to be and carry some of his pain for him, but she knew she couldn't do it. Wanda had promised Erik she wouldn't get too close to him, and there was no guarantee that if she looked into his mind, she'd be able to keep her own memories from him. Then he'd only have more pain.

Giving her a puppy dog look again, Pietro interrupted her thoughts. "I didn't—it's not like that. I wasn't going to kill myself. It just helped me feel in control…look, can we just pretend it never happened? I'm not going to do it again."

It sounds like he's trying to convince himself as much as he is me.

Wanda could tell Pietro was becoming embarrassed by the whole situation, and she figured it was time to let go of his hand, which she did rather reluctantly.

"We can't just ignore this, Peter…I won't tell them if you really mean you aren't going to do it again, but you should tell them. And if they ask what happened, I'm not going to lie to them." Then she added with the hope of distracting him, "I don't plan on giving your father another reason to hate me."

Her plan seemed to work somewhat as he responded right away, "Erik doesn't hate you. No really!" said Pietro when Wanda gave her a skeptical look. "I asked him! He even told me that I should get you if I needed help…though I don't think this is what he thought I'd need help with…He just said things are complicated, which who the hell knows what that means. I mean, he's actually a pretty great dad, but he's also a weird cryptic dude."

Wanda was genuinely surprised by Pietro's declaration that Erik trusted her enough to look out for his son, even when he knew her past.

"He just cares about you. That's all. I can be dangerous. I'm sure that's all he's worried about. How's your arm feel?" said Wanda trying to steer the conversation back toward the more important issue at hand.

"It's okay…I'mGood.I'veHadWorse." said Pietro giving Wanda a closed mouth smile.

Though Pietro meant to reassure her with his words, his comment just made her feel all the more despondent and hate the world fir making him suffer through so much at such a young age. Even when he was so obviously experiencing both physical, mental, and emotional pain, the kid was still trying to reassure others.

Who would hurt this innocent boy?

This silver-haired boy who reminded her so much of her brother, yet was also a person all his own. A person she wanted to shield from anymore pain, and protect as if he really were her little brother, because in a way, he was.

"Okay then." Said Wanda. "I'm guessing you don't want to go back to sleep?"

Pietro just shook his head quickly.

"Then, you're going to come try a taste of my cooking." said Wanda tugging the boy up until he was standing.

"I'm not really hungry actually…" mumbled Pietro.

"Peter, I know that your speed means you need a lot more calories than a normal person, so if you don't come eat what I put in front of you and have an Ensure shake to go with it, then I will personally go wake up your sister right now."

"You're bossy." said Pietro, but his tone was lighthearted and teasing.

"You can thank my brother for that. He required a lot of bossing around." Said Wanda, finding herself smiling. Glad that she'd come far enough that she could think of her brother and find joy rather than sadness. So this Pietro wasn't her brother, but maybe her brother—wherever he was—had brought this boy to help her. To help them both.

{Author's Note: So maybe Natasha would act this way, maybe not. She's a mystery to me, but I really thought Erik could use a friend, or at least an acquaintance whose presence he can tolerate. Thanks for reading! I love hearing from all of you, so please share your thoughts if you feel so inclined.}