TC Stark: As usual, thank you for the amazing support! I am a few chapters ahead and I am just so excited seeing this actually fleshing out ^^

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 Nine

A few weeks had passed and life was passing as usual. The sun rose and set each day, just as it always had. There was a debate of who was going to be the new governor of New York City, but besides that things hadn't been that eventful. There had been a Hydra base deep in Wisconsin that a few of the Avengers were sent to, but that had been easily taken care of and they brought the winnings back with them.

Tilda and Natasha had been rock climbing that one day. Not on an actual mountain, but they had just installed one in the Avengers facility downstairs. It was good to have a pseudo friend who liked being active as well. So much of their jobs consisted of physical activity and even though the telekinetic used her powers in most missions, she still didn't want her body to get weak. Well, anymore than it already was doing on its own.

While the two agents did that, Pietro and Wanda were simply sitting down on an outside step. It was bright that day and the sun felt good on the telepathic's skin. It hardly ever shined this brightly in Sokovia and she realized that like a flower, she brightened up when the morning star danced in the sky.

"You look happy." Pietro pointed out in their native Sokovian.

"I am happy. This place is nice. We have good home. Good food. Friends." Wanda answered, smiling as she said it.

Pietro had noticed that the dark circles had almost completely disappeared from his sister's eyes. He had forgotten what her face looked like when she wasn't plagued with fatigue. She was so full of life now and it made him realize that they had only had each other for so long. That revenge was all that had filled their hearts since they were ten. It made him sad that he had robbed his sibling of being happier in the past.

Bowing his head down, Quicksilver asked, "And this Vision….he make you happy?"

"Yes, Pietro, he makes me happy," Turning to her brother, Wanda reached to hold onto Pietro's hand and squeeze it, "You must trust me. I am not child, and he is good man. You do not need to worry about being replaced."

There was a deep sigh, but ultimately Pietro wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against her hair. He deeply loved his sister and the idea of anything happening to her hurt his soul. He could not imagine a life without her around, nor one where she was put in danger. Taking care of her was no longer a responsibility, it was a privilege and one he took seriously.

Running his fingers through Wanda's hair, Pietro rested his forehead against hers before getting up, "I love you."

"I love you too, moya lyubov'."

Pietro then sped back into the Avengers facility, heading towards the cafeteria. There he found Tilda, eating what looked like a sausage and pepper sandwich. Figuring he had walked in on a golden opportunity, Quicksilver stopped and joked, "So, you like sausage, eh?"

"What?" Tilda asked, eyebrow tilted up.

"When we went to Russian restaurant, you order kielbasa. Now you eating sausage," Circling his hands, he eventually sighed, "It is bad joke."

With a smile, the agent put her sandwich down and agreed, "It was, but good effort."

Taking the seat opposite of her, Pietro smiled before remembering what he needed to tell her, "You have plans tonight?" When she shook her head, the Sokovian asked, "I thought maybe it would be nice for us to go to movies? I look at the times, maybe you would like to see new Jurassic World movie?"

Raising an eyebrow, Tilda asked innocently enough, "What's it about?"

Pietro blinked in confusion. For a moment, he thought maybe she was teasing. but it seemed she was serious. The girl really had never seen a movie past the 1940s. With an almost nervous laugh, he answered, "It is about dinosaurs."

"But, dinosaurs were during the Triassic period, not the Jurassic period," Tilda argued, before seeing that maybe she was taking it too literally and that Pietro simply was trying to plan something out for them to do. It was nice, he had paid attention when she spoke about not watching any modern day movies. Nodding, she changed the subject, "That sounds great. I like dinosaurs."

There was a look of happiness on Pietro's face, as he explained, "It is sequel of first one, we could watch it before tonight, yes?"

"That sounds great."

Tilda was admittedly a little more excited to see Jurassic World than she would like. Jurassic Park was a fantastic movie, despite its historical inaccuracies. The movie was made in the early nineties and yet, the graphics were just as good if not better than modern day films. It could have just been her inexperience of actually seeing current pictures, but she had been around computers enough, she knew how much technology improved throughout the years. So, yes, she was happy to be seeing this one with Pietro.

After paying for their tickets, Pietro turned to Tilda and explained, "At movies, you get popcorn. It is like tradition."

"Did you and Wanda ever see movies together?" Tilda asked, as they made their way to the snack line.

"Movie theater not as big as anything here, but we used to sneak in because we had no money," Smirking, the enhanced winked, "Many movies we never finished because we were chased out. I buy many bootleg on street corner when I worked with Sokovian mob."

With a light snort, Tilda teased, "I wonder if anyone knows the Avengers is made up of a bunch of former outlaws."

"I do not think of myself as outlaw. Um...more Peter Pan."

The two laughed at the reference, finally reaching the cashier. After grabbing a medium popcorn and a drink for them, they headed towards the theater. Tilda was thankful Pietro told her to grab a jacket, since it was usually cold at the movies. She zipped up her thin hoodie and took the soda from him so he didn't have to hold everything.

It was evident from the look on Tilda's face that she was enjoying the movie. Pietro couldn't be happier, having a hard time paying attention to the screen when it was so important to him that she have a good time. He considered putting his arm around her shoulders, but decided against it, as it didn't want it seeming that he took her to see Jurassic World as a ploy to cop a feel.

Halfway into the movie, Tilda coughed. It wasn't loud, but she still put her hand in front of her mouth. She had felt something wet touch the skin and when she looked at her palm, she saw blood had painted it. The telekinetic frowned. Pietro was having a good time, he was watching the film with a boyish glimmer in his eyes and she didn't want to disrupt that. He had been so nice to pick this date out, she didn't want her sickness getting in the way.

Excusing herself, the agent ran out of the theater and into the bathroom. It left Pietro concerned, as Tilda was holding her mouth while leaving. Did she need to throw up? Perhaps the 3D aspect of the movie had made her nauseous. He should have known better - 2D would have been better for someone inexperienced at going to a movie.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself by running at superspeed, Pietro simply jogged out of the theater towards the bathroom. It occurred to him that it would look strange for a man to step into a woman's restroom, hopping from foot to foot in front of the door as he thought about what to do next.

Sighing, Pietro decided he would deal with the consequences, while letting himself in. The theater was a small one and had only one stall per bathroom. Tilda was hunched over the sink when she saw the Sokovian come in, demanding, "What are you doing in here?"

"You ran out of theater so fast, I wanted to make sure you were okay," Pietro explained, seeing the few droplets of blood in the sink, "What happened?"

Shaking her head, Tilda looked away from Pietro while attempting to shoo him away. Catching her in his arms, the Sokovian smoothed her hair from her face as she explained, "It's...it's nothing. Just like the nosebleeds, this happens. I...please, just go back to the movie, I'll be right there."

With a worried look on his face, Pietro cupped Tilda's cheek and brought her attention to his eyes. Looking deep into her own orbs, the man insisted, "I am not leaving you. You need to let me help."

"There's nothing to help," With a sigh, she held her forehead and cursed under her breath, "I ruined this date."

"You did not ruin anything. You are not feeling well, I will not get mad. It is just movie. You are more important." Pietro assured her, stroking her face while begging her to believe him.

Tilda bowed her head and allowed herself to be brought into his embrace. An overwhelming dark cloud was taking over her, feeling stupid for being so dramatic. Dealing with her sickness had been only her problem for so long. When her condition didn't affect anyone else it was easy to remain calm, but when she had someone as caring as Pietro around, she felt the need to be better. To not inconvenience him with her disease.

The warmth from his lips against her forehead calmed Tilda down, holding onto his shirt as she asked, "I'm okay...can we go back to the movie?"

"You do not want to go to doctor?"

"It's not going to help with anything," Looking up, Tilda found herself touching his cheek. Pietro moved into the contact, smiling at the sign of affection, "I just...want to be normal. For a night. We can...if Bruce is up, we can go to him afterwards."

Nodding in understanding, the Sokovian bent down to lightly peck her lips. His hand held onto hers, as he guided her out. Pietro was still wary over them going back into the theater. Every protective instinct wanted to take her to Banner. To shake him and tell him to do something. But, he didn't. Tilda wanted to feel normal. Experience was couples did and he was going to give that to her.

Because he loved her.

After the small incident in the bathroom, Tilda was free of any accidents for the rest of the night. The movie was very entertaining and Pietro enjoyed hearing about how much the other enhanced liked it. It struck him that it was the first time he had seen her so animated before, using her hands to describe every moment that she really liked and apologizing here and there when she felt she was talking too much.

It was dark by the time the two got back to the base, everyone presumably sleeping. Tilda preferred it that way. She was not one for attention, and if they were all in bed, Pietro couldn't insist they go see Bruce. Besides the minor hiccup, she had had an amazing night and didn't want to spoil it with bad news.

As they stepped into the clean halls of the base, Pietro turned towards Tilda, "It is late...perhaps...you would like to spend night in my room?" After seeing her hesitation, the Sokovian quickly assured, "Not to do anything you don't want. Just to sleep...it gets lonely...and...I do not want our time to end."

"I don't either." Tilda's words came out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think them through. It was dawning on her that it was her emotions that were starting to make the decisions, instead of her brain. She wasn't using logic anymore and that was a dangerous path to go down.

Tilda's heart pounded against her ribcage, as they entered Pietro's room. With a blue and silver streak, he ran around quickly picking clothing up and made the bed, so that perhaps his place could look more presentable to her. Sheepishly grinning, he apologized, "It is mess, I know. But, I do know where everything is in this apartment."

A small smile pulled at her lips, "I'm not judging."

It had seemed they were stalling. Both making small jokes, simply standing around. Tilda's eyes were fixated on the bed. Pietro wished he knew some way to let her know that he did not intend on forcing her into anything she didn't want to do. It was easy with everyday media to assume everything was about sex, but he didn't want it to be that way with her. How could he convey that?

"You want to take shoes off before getting into bed," Pietro decided to start, already reaching down to undo his shoe laces, "I hope you don't mind, but I like to sleep without shirt. It feels more comfortable. Do you have sleep routines?"

Eyes still focused on the bed, Tilda shook her head once before reaching down and taking her boots off. Her gaze was fixated on Pietro's shirt being pulled off his body, trying hard not to stare at the muscles beneath. Sure, being an agent in a densely male populated field, she had seen plenty of men shirtless. But, none of them had been Pietro Maximoff. None of them had been someone she actually was attracted to.

Pietro eased himself down on the bed, watching Tilda approach it gingerly. He didn't make a sound or any movement. He wanted her to know that there was no rush. No pressure. They were just two adults, sharing a bed together for the night. Many would take this as an opportunity to make a move, but he wouldn't. He simply wanted to feel her near him.

Finally kneeling onto the mattress, Tilda slipped her body onto its side - facing Pietro. His smile eased her worries, forcing her to smile back. How could someone be so patient and understanding? That was not the world they lived in. Everyone wanted something for something, but not him.

"You know...I...I've never been with anyone before." Tilda admitted, feeling the need to tell him practically ripping from her chest.

Pietro eased down more onto the bed, turning his own body to face her, "No boyfriend?"

"No...father always wanted me to reproduce. I remember in studies that it was the reason he never removed my uterus. He wanted to see if my powers could be biological. There were men who came around. Who he inspected. Interviewed. One of them kissed me once…" With a shrug, Tilda added, "After SHIELD took me in...I had no desire to get to know someone. To bother with human relations. I know...being in my position, many would be sleeping with anyone they could...and that's fine...but, I never could. I just wanted to be alone."

With a sad smile, Pietro reached over and gently stroked the line of her neck. The simple touch brought Tilda closer, instinctively moving into his hard body. The natural aroma of the Sokovian filled her nostrils, easing her mind so to feel more comfortable. There were somethings you just couldn't fake, and him sincerely caring for her emanated off his very being.

Pietro's lips politely found hers, catching onto them with light force. Tilda remained still for that moment, closing her eyes and thinking how nice they felt. They were full and soft. She wondered if he had a lot of experience kissing women. He was a handsome man, personable, and kind; what woman wouldn't be eating out of the palm of his hands. And yet, it was her. She was the one fortunate enough.

Instincts were kicking in, as Tilda held onto Pietro's firm bicep and parted her lips. With a shaking breath, she mouth her mouth to push more into his, asking him for guidance. The man's large hand cupped his partner's cheek, holding her steady as his tongue came out to gently glide along the span of her lower lip.

The tiny hairs of his moustache gently scratched her skin, but she didn't care. As his tongue entered her mouth, Tilda met his with her own wet appendage. It was a completely didn't sensation than just a closed mouth kiss and the telekinetic wondered if maybe Pietro was also able to manipulate thinking. The way his essence was transferred through a single, gentle make out was intoxicating.

Closing his mouth back up, Pietro pressed one last kiss onto her lips before slowly moving away and wishing, "Good night, Tilda."