TC Stark: Thank you again everyone!

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 Seven

Bruce had been working on his computer, when Pietro suddenly marched into the lab the next day. There was an angry expression on the runner's face, as the doctor pushed away from the desk and looked around - unsure of what he did wrong, "Ugh...can I help you, Pietro?"

"You fix her. Now."

Confused, Bruce asked, "Who?"

Threateningly stepping before the man, Pietro demanded, "Tilda. She told me what is wrong with her. Stop playing games and get off your ass. Help her."

It would have been easy for Banner to get angry. Pietro's chest was puffed out and his eyes were bearing down. Instead, the doctor sighed and stood up, removing his glasses as he did so, "Pietro...please...understand when I say, I am trying. We all are trying. Dr. Stygar was not a careful man and he played fast and loose with his daughter. I can see that you like her and, she's fond of you. But, you need to understand something."

Stepping closer, Bruce tried his best to make sure he got through to Pietro, while also being stark and sensitive, "Tilda is going to die. There is no cure. Not that we know of. And if you're looking to start a relationship with her, you need to know this. Now, it can be ten, five, or even one year. And...it's going to be ugly...she will shut down. You need to be prepared for that."

There was a serious tone to Bruce's words and Pietro found all his anger diminishing. It instead was replaced with a frown; an upset feeling bubbling inside of him. None of it truly made sense to him. They were all enhanced in some way. They were able to do things ordinary humans were not able to. He couldn't grasp that there was no solution to Tilda's situation; surely there had to be an answer.

"I'm sorry, Pietro, it's just...reality." Bruce apologized gently.

Attempting to remain stoic, Pietro gulped dryly while proclaiming, "Then I will make her final years the best ones. It will not change how I love her."

Bruce wished there was some way to slow down Tilda's death sentence. It had only been a few months, but Pietro clearly cared deeply about the telekinetic. The doctor didn't know if his general nature was to love intensely and fast, or if it was because time was of the essence, but what he did know, was he would be loyal and do right by her.

Which, would probably make her dying all the harder for both of them.

"So, you are dating my brother now."

Tilda hated chess. To her, it was boring and time consuming. But, he father had forced her into the game at a young age. Not only to use her mind in the sense of making sure she was sharp, but also to always move the pieces with her powers. There were so many things she was prevented to use her hands for and she certainly didn't want her arms tied behind her back like he did once…

Still, Tilda found herself in a pseudo rec room, playing chess when suddenly one of the opposing pieces turned red and moved on it's own. Considering Wanda and she had similar powers, you would think they would interact more, but truthfully they didn't. There wasn't anything she had against the female Maximoff, she was just usually preoccupied. Sometimes, she couldn't help, but think her father would have loved to have the two together. To see who could outdo the other.

Sitting back in her seat, Tilda watched as Wanda made her way around the other side of the table and sat down. The chess pieces reminded the telepathic of her first few weeks in Strucker's division. How he would give her objects, such as building blocks, to practice her skills with. It was like being reborn, having to be taught everything all over again, only in a much different way than before.

"Is that what it's called?" Tilda lightly snorted, reaching out to gingerly play with the Queen, "I'm twenty-five. Most women my age have had…experiences with dating. I haven't. Sure Pietro will come to regret this."

Red energy moved all the pieces on the board back to their original spots, as if wanting a match between the two, "Pietro can be messy, you should know that."

Tilda looked curiously at Wanda, seeing that she was going to be the one to make the first move, "Why are you telling me this?"

"He also snores at night. At times, he can be stubborn. And he does not have the best table manners," She continued without being asked, adding finally, "But, he also is kindest man I know. Generous. Loyal. He does not do things he does not want, and he never has any ulterior motive. So...if Pietro wants to be with you, he already knows about who you are and he accepts that. You do not need to worry that he will become frustrated with you," With a final tutt, Wanda smirked, "And, if he does, I smack him upside head."

Every word Wanda spoke swam inside Tilda's mind, finding home within her brain so she could truly think it over. It was obvious the twin was trying to tell her that the speedster was not the kind of man to only be nice, to get something in return. To trust that when he said he wanted to be with her, that he truly did. It was strange and comforting at the same time, even if it was new to her to have a conversation about dating someone with their sister.

"So...where's my don't hurt him speech?"

Smirking, Wanda teased, "I look inside your head already. I know you have no ill intention."

On top of the Avenger's base having a track outside that surround the building, it also had an underground course that Pietro frequented. Agents from the former SHIELD used the aboveground area, but it was those who were part of the group that used the more hidden away area. It allowed them to freely use their powers, without the threat of paparazzi catching them on camera.

As Pietro jogged to a stop after his 200th lap, Tilda came up to the man with a bottle of Gatorade, "Wow, they don't call you Quicksilver for nothing."

"I could go faster. But, I don't want to show off," The Sokovian smirked in a playfully smug way, "Sometimes the Captain comes down here. He can run fast, but not as fast as me. I try to be faster though. I do not want to be shot again."

Tilda frowned slightly at that, but decided to take the opportunity and use it to play around, "If I had been there, you wouldn't have been."

"Oh?"

"I can stop a bullet."

Arms folded, Pietro was beginning to sense they were approaching a challenge, "Oh, can you? I know you have strong powers, Tilda, but a bullet is very fast."

Tilda tilted her head, slightly confused. If anything, she would have thought he would be concerned or something along those lines. Instead, he was playful about it and joking around with her. Was this what it meant to be part of a couple? Was accepting challenges something two people did together?

An arrogant smirk then crossed Tilda's lips, as she reached down to her thigh holster and took out her Glock 17. Pietro was used to being around guns. Not just due to his association with Hydra, but long before that. Working for the Sokovian mob, associating with Russians, and just everyday civilians, firearms was something he was no stranger to.

After Tilda cocked the gun, she handed it to Pietro. Quicksilver stared strangely at the weapon, as the agent stepped back. She continued until she was about ten feet away, opening her arms and welcoming, "Go ahead."

"What!?"

"Pull the trigger. I'll show you."

Pietro gawked. She could not possibly ask him to willingly aim a gun and shoot it at the woman he had just professed his feelings to. He wasn't sure if it was because she was so confident that she could stop the bullet, or her lack of value for her own life that made her fast and loose. But, something about it got his own adrenaline pumping and he decided to go along with this crazy idea.

Holding the gun up, Pietro pointed out, "This is very strange, but I like it."

Before Tilda could blink, Pietro aimed and pulled the trigger. Time slowed down temporarily, as the agent put her hand up. The bullet was speeding towards her and yet, when it came close to her palm, it stopped. As if there was some force field, it could not penetrate that barrier that she had put up.

Pietro watched at the bullet fell to the ground - Tilda unscathed. Tucking the gun in the waistband of his pants, the Sokovian jogged over to check the telekinetic over. Seeing that she indeed wasn't hit, he pulled back and chuckled almost nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"You really did stop the bullet!"

"You didn't see that coming?" Tilda mischievously smirked, arms folded.

"Hey, that's my line," Pietro playfully scolded, "You know, you are quite the devious one when you open up. Now, I am scared."

Snorting, the orange haired woman warned, "Maybe you should be."

As she began to walk away, the Sokovian followed after her and proposed, "So, now we have that arm wrestling match, yes?"

"I do not like apples."

Tilda and Pietro had ended up at a nearby diner - the runner deciding he really needed a strawberry milkshake. The man was clearly a fan of ice cream and he insisted that the Avengers facility wasn't perfect because they didn't provide any. Not that the agent minded; it was nice getting out of the house, so to speak.

Unfortunately, the pie of the day at the dinner was apple pie and Pietro was not having any of it, "You don't maybe have blueberry pie? Blueberries in season, I think."

The waitress shook her head and walked away, as the Sokovian sulked. Tilda smiled gently at how...cute he looked when pouting. Had she actually had those thoughts? It was the first time she even felt that way about someone, but Pietro was definitely the type to grow on you - probably why Clint had come to like him so much.

"You're in America and apple pies are as American as they get." Tilda pointed out.

Grumbling, he explained, "I no like apple texture. Never liked apples. Do you like apples?"

Tilda shrugged, "I don't think I've ever really liked them. But, I ate them. Doesn't every parent try to get their kids to eat vegetables and fruits? I'm assuming."

A small smile pulled at Pietro's mouth, as he told, "Mama and papa always fed us vegetables. We no have lots of money for meat. So, they always tried to stretch what we had with vegetables. Wanda never like them. Mother would always tell her to finish her food, but she only eat the meat. One day, father tell Wanda that monsters will come take her away at night, because she no eat vegetables."

It was clear that it was a fond memory of Pietro's, both because it was of his childhood with his sister and with his parents. But, Tilda coughed slightly while pointing out, "That sounds a little traumatic for a kid."

"Sokovian parents always tell children of monsters whenever they need something done," Pietro shrugged, "If you no brush your teeth, monster get you. You do not say spasibo when you are given something, monster. One time, I was walking down the street and saw young boy stealing from food cart - I told him, monster will come get you in your sleep. He ran away crying."

As devious as the story was, Tilda couldn't help but put her hand over her mouth and try to suppress a laugh. Pietro was looking at her with that toothy grin, clearly wanting to use the tale as a joke to amuse her. He liked hearing her laugh, it was a nice laugh. Life, for some more than others; was too short not to smile.

"Maybe having kids is not for you." Tilda laughed, obviously meaning it as a joke.

"I will be good father. But, I will not make my child eat apples," Smiling, he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "But, oranges, yes."

Raising an eyebrow, she mused, "You called me an orange once. Apel'sin?"

Pietro nodded, "Good pronunciation! I like your color hair, but I wonder what your real hair is? It is okay that it is dyed - you see my hair was altered by experiments."

"Hmm...no."

"No?"

"No, I'll keep you guessing." Tilda smirked, causing Pietro to laugh.

She realized then that around Pietro, she felt alive.