TC Stark: I am so incredibly happy about the attention this story is getting. Reading your reviews makes me beam and just want to do better! Please enjoy this chapter, as we get into fun angsty emotional stuff!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Six

Pietro had an odd routine in the morning. To anyone, it wouldn't be called a routine at all, but it felt familiar to him. First off, he always seemed to fall out of bed. Maybe it was a side effect of being an enhanced human being, but he always felt jittery in the mornings and his sense of his surroundings were warped, causing him to end up on the floor. That usually woke him up with a jolt.

Second was his routine shower. Pietro enjoyed the feel of water on his body. Sometimes, it would take him an hour just because he would stand there and let his skin prune. Of course, there was the matter of his morning wood and there were some days that taking care of that took longer than others.

The twins had been needed the day after Pietro's visit to New York City. It had saddened him slightly that he could not see Tilda, but he hoped she understood. Going to that Russian restaurant, getting ice cream; he had had such an amazing day. The Sokovian was thankful for gaining her as a friend.

After pulling a black hoodie on, Pietro pushed up the sleeves and exited his room. Steve Rogers was walking by at the time, giving Quicksilver a nod before going on his day. It could be argued that the Avengers base housed orphans who had nowhere else to go. The Cap was in a different time than his own, the twins had lost their family a long time ago, The Vision….was the Vision, and Natasha was a former KGB agent. But, out of a group of misfits, he truly felt accepted. Like they were a little family of their own.

Once Pietro stepped outside, he shielded his eyes from the sun. It was bright that day - making him rethink wearing a hoodie. The speedster was distracted, though; as he saw Tilda smoking. As much as he disliked her cigarette habit, he thought against running and tearing the death stick out of her hand.

Instead, he began trotting over and greeted happily, "Good morning, Tilda. See? It is only ten - much earlier than the other day. I don't think I'll be waking up as early as you, but I am getting better."

Tilda's body tensed at hearing Pietro. She was thankful for the Maximoff twins being busy the previous day, taking Quicksilver out of the environment and therefore making it easier for her to think. The Sokovian's happy go lucky attitude was grating on her and making it harder for her to breathe.

"Good for you," Tilda responded sharper than she would have wanted, flicking the cigarette away, "I have to go. See you later."

It was abrupt. It felt abrupt. Tilda felt like a bitch. It should have been easy brushing someone off. She had always been able to distance herself from others. But, for some reason, with Pietro it just felt wrong. Like she shouldn't do it. Like she didn't want to. It was all the more reason for her to put as much space in between them.

Tilda knew Pietro was confused and she was thankful that he didn't try to run after her. It felt like she couldn't breathe. Everything felt constricted and as soon as she got back inside, the telekinetic let out a gasp. Holding onto her neck, she frantically looked around to make sure no one saw her.

It may have seemed a little severe and over dramatic. Why should liking someone be feared? Every person experienced those kinds of feelings. They weren't abnormal. And yet, Tilda felt like some sort of freak. Like it was a disease she needed to eradicate. This was the first time for her and she needed to put a stop to it - before they both got hurt.

Pietro was confused. Befuddled really. It had been hours. And he could not find Tilda. She had not responded to his text message and the few times it seemed he would run into her in the hallway, she turned on her heels and ran the other way. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended her? They had had a good day, he was sure of that.

"Are you alright, Pietro?"

Pietro groaned, as he heard the calm voice ask him. Cracking his neck, Quicksilver turned his head to see The Vision walking towards him. With an exasperated sigh, the speedster warned, "I am busy today. I have no time for philosophy talks."

Curiously tilting his head, the android pointed out, "But, you are in dismay. Does it have to do with Tilda?"

"Why do you ask?" Pietro furrowed his eyebrows, "How do you know?"

"I saw her walking out of the gym, and she was not looking too happy."

As soon as The Vision told him that, Pietro ran off. The android shook his head gently. He was still trying to understand humans, especially Wanda's hot headed brother. He wasn't one for thinking before he acted. It was both a good quality and a bad one - for the outcomes were always random ones. But, as the female Maximoff told him, it was best not to try to sway him any other way.

Speeding towards the gym, Pietro spotted the woman in question and called out for her, "Tilda!"

Tilda was wiping the chalk off her hands, when Pietro ran over to her. Frowning, the telekinetic greeted, "Hello, Pietro."

"Tilda, is something wrong?" Pietro worriedly asked.

Poking her tongue against the inside of her cheek, the orange haired woman played off, "No. I'm just busy today."

"Would you like to get lunch?"

Tilda could hear the desperation and hopefulness in his voice, trying her best to ignore the tightening feeling in her chest, "Not today. I was going to shower. And rest today. Maybe tomorrow."

Frowning, Pietro nodded as he saw Tilda was already walking away, "Feel better."

Tomorrow had come and just like the day before, Tilda was ignoring him. Pietro was beginning to feel rejected. Not that she owed him anything, but he thought they were friends. They had laughed together, essentially broke bread together. Why was she being so cold to him now? He was beginning to take offense to it. If he had done something wrong, he would like for them to be adults and talk about it.

It was the reason why Pietro was at Tilda's door in the afternoon of the next day. There was a stiffness to his jaw, knocking on her door and moving back and forth in his spot. He knew she was there. He could see the shadows of her feet from underneath the entrance, frowning that she was clearly not letting him in.

"Tilda," He called out, careful to make sure no one was around, "Answer the door. Please. I don't like this cold shoulder. If I did something wrong, I want to know."

Finally, Tilda pulled the door open, a stern frown on her lips and a glare in her eyes, "Jesus, you don't give up, do you? Can't someone be busy? I don't remember signing anything that I had to be with you every day."

As much as Tilda's words hurt, Pietro knew that there was something else underneath and he pressed on, "This is not you. Just tell me. We're friends. You can trust me with whatever is bothering you."

"No I can't."

There was a seriousness in Tilda's eyes, but Pietro saw something much more. It occurred to him that she was trying very hard to remain strong. Firm. Cold. But, she could not remain robotic and when he looked deeper, he saw that there was a part of her that was...scared? And he didn't know why.

Shoulders relaxing, Pietro gently reassured, "You don't need to be scared, Tilda, you can tell me."

Fists clenching, the telekinetic looked away with a growl, "I...no, Pietro. No."

"Can I make a guess?" He asked, taking a step forward while giving her a kind smile, "I like you too, Tilda. There is nothing wrong with that. Is that what is bothering you? Because, I feel same way. This is good thing."

Frowning deeply, Tilda spat, "No it isn't. And you're wrong. Get out." She snarled, before slamming the door in his face.

Pietro knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Something was bothering her and preventing her from admitting her feelings. Whatever it was, he wanted to know so hopefully he could help Tilda. He knew she had a traumatic past, but hadn't they all? If anyone could help her through it, it could be him.

All the begging and knocking didn't do a thing, Tilda refusing to open the door. Pietro frowned and was beginning to feel ridiculous. While he didn't want to be intrusive, he also knew that he couldn't simply leave. Sighing, he reached down and grabbed the doorknob, using his super speed to jimmy the lock open.

Once he was in, Tilda gawked before snarling, "Do you not take no for an answer? Get out!" She practically screamed, sending a wave of energy to push him out of the room.

The force was enough to knock Pietro on his ass, groaning while seeing Tilda hastily run out of the room. With a frown, Quicksilver easily sped in front of the telekinetic, pulling her into a corner so no one could see them. God forbid Wanda walked in, she would take it the wrong way and think her brother was trying to force the other woman into something she didn't want.

"Please," Pietro begged, "What is stopping you from liking me? I can understand if you did not have feelings for me, I would walk away. But, I know you do and I know something is stopping you. Let me help, Tilda."

"I'm dying!" Tilda finally shouted, tears filling her eyes.

The words were powerful enough to stop Pietro in his tracks. It should have probably been enough that Tilda was reduced to tears and shaking. He should have walked away right then and there. He should have respected that he pushed too far. He should have known he crossed a line when he made someone as guarded as she was, cry.

But, Pietro was not the type to just leave things be, and he asked in a soft tone of disbelief, "What are you talking about?"

Fists clenching, Tilda worked her jaw and responded, "Dying, Pietro. I'm dying. The...the experiments that was performed...all those years...it was too much. Too intense. Too often. Too much radiation. My cells are deteriorating. It's why I get nosebleeds all the time, I have bad headaches, I'm tired...I am dying."

Eyes wide, Pietro was at a loss for words as he pulled back slightly. Searching her face for some sort of hope, all he could find himself asking was, "That is why...you don't want to admit how you feel…?"

"Why would I want to even begin loving someone, when I have ten years at most?" Tilda bitterly asked, trying to steady her breathing.

"We will find cure."

With a bitter laugh, the telekinetic angrily explained, "There is no cure. Why do you think I see the doctors every day? They monitor me all the time. And they all say the same thing. I am okay with dying. I have accepted it. I was only brought on this Earth for experimentation," Tears forming once again in her eyes, Tilda pointedly warned, "Don't you dare make me begin regretting my fate. I don't want to leave this world begging for mercy."

Feeling that sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, Pietro refused to believe it, "No, we will find cure. This is the Avengers. You will not die. You are stronger than that."

"Just let me die in peace."

Tilda went to move, but Pietro caught her by the waist. She never realized how big his body was. How built and defined his muscles were. She wasn't sure if it was due to being enhanced or if he had always been this in shape, but his arm locked her against him and it was clear he was not letting her go.

Something happened to Tilda in that moment. Something odd that she had never experienced before. All her fight instincts were melting away and while she knew she should have been pushing him away, she found herself moving closer into the embrace. As if she were looking to him for...comfort. For support. Was she even gripping onto his shirt? What was happening to her in that moment?

Pietro held Tilda close to his body, allowing her to curl into his chest as he rested his chin against the top of her head. The Sokovian had a feeling that she had never cried on someone's shoulder before, if she had ever cried at all before. All he wanted to do was provide some kind of comfort for her, even if he wanted to weep along with her. So much of it he didn't understand, but it wasn't the time to be concerned about his needs.

"Why are you still here?" Tilda muttered, feeling scared and relieved in his arms, "Why waste your time with me?"

Trying to push back his own tears, Pietro gently kissed her face while whispering against her forehead, "I am selfish man. I want to be with you. Every minute of your life. I cannot let you go and I know that is unfair to you, but I do not want to bring regret to you. I only want you to live a full life...to experience what others experience...even...even if it is...not very long. You don't...have to give up on finding love."

Involuntarily leaning into the kiss on her forehead, Tilda quietly expressed, "This is so strange to me…"

"Strange can be good. I will be good to you."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Pietro frowned, brushing her hair back while tilting her head up to him. Everything inside of Tilda was telling her to push him away. To resort back to being aggressive. To running. But, there was a comfort she found in his arms that she had never found before. A need to be held that she didn't previously believe existed in her. Somehow, held against the Sokovian, she felt safe. When had feeling that way become a good thing?

There was a small nod. Pietro didn't know if it was Tilda accepting the truth of how she felt, or if she was telling him yes. Either way, he took it as a good sign and cupped her cheeks affectionately. A small whine escaped her lips, feeling as if she were on the edge of a ledge ready to jump off. Though, admittedly, she would view that as a normal day on the job. This was much more frightening.

Slowly, Tilda felt Pietro's lips touch her own. Subconsciously, she gently flinched back, but upon remembering that he was not a threat, she moved back into him. The telekinetic let the buff man pull her closer, her neck craned back as her mouth was practically exposed for him to do whatever he wanted with it.

She could feel his finger slipping into her orange hair, gently holding her in place as his mouth once again pressed against hers. Tilda felt sappy; she had just been crying. There was a big dramatic reveal. Perhaps all those old movies had influenced her, because surely she had seen this same scene play a thousand times on scene.

But, there was nothing sappy or outplayed when it was in real life. In reality, a kiss like this one felt comforting. Warm. It was much more than just two body parts pressed against each other. Within the spectrum of their connection, Tilda felt relaxed and at peace. Even if she was a little unsure of what to do, Pietro was perfect at guiding her through it. The man was gentle, capturing her lower lip before remaining firm against her mouth - not wanting to overstep any boundaries this fast.

With a deep sigh from both parties, Pietro pulled slowly away from her. Their lips remained touching for as long as they could, Tilda whining gently when she finally felt air hitting her skin where he once was. It may have been a small kiss, but to her it felt monumental. As if they had entered a room that now there was no escape from. There was only moving forward, no going back.

But, in the mean time, they could just stand still, "Was that alright?" Pietro gently asked.

Tilda hadn't realized she was in fact smiling, "Yes...yes that was."

"I like seeing you smile."

With a small snort, Tilda subconsciously lifted her hands to touch the large biceps on his arms, "I'm sorry...if I was overly dramatic."

"It's okay, I am dramatic too," Pietro smiled, affectionately stroking her cheek. Sokovians were actually very touchy people and he hoped that he was not pushing his luck. But, she didn't seem to mind, "Perhaps we should get out of this corner? We could perhaps get something to eat in cafeteria?"

Feeling his hand slip into hers, Tilda looked down for a second before squeezing his fingers and nodding, "That would be nice."