Hello, wonderful readers! Here is the second to last chapter! Can't believe we're so close to the end... It's been a good run, huh? Thank you so much for sticking with this story. You're all so great; my readers, followers, favoriters, reviewers... thanks to AbilgailPeters, CrazyCountryGirl12, Saint of the Sinners for their reviews! I love reading your comments, guys! Thank you!

On another note... I'm just wondering something. I wrote in a GIANT Easter Egg for this fic. Only one person has discovered it (my best friend), and she says it was one of those that once you find it, you're like, "REALLY?!" I'm curious about if any of you have found it... a lot of you have mentioned something close to it in your reviews, and it makes me giggle a little. I just thought I'd let you know that some of you are close. ;)

That's all I've got for you! Have a MARVELous day!

Countdown to end: 1 chapter

The following morning, the tabloids came out. Surprisingly, most of them were relatively accurate with what had happened the previous day, which made Esca Rarity quite happy. Pietro couldn't help but laugh a little at her exhilaration—now that she was able to go grocery shopping without getting mobbed, she was even cheerier than before.

As the next week and a half passed, however, Pietro noticed that Esca Rarity was acting a little strange. She spent more time hovelled up in the common area, often forbidding people to come inside or else she'd not cook dinner. During this time, she would plunk away at the piano in the middle of the room. More than once, Pietro had stood outside the door, wondering what she was doing. Usually she just played that French guy's songs—Debussy, he remembered.

Naturally, he was confused. But whenever he'd ask her about what she was playing, she'd just grin and say, "Just messing around. I get bored."

He knew she wasn't telling him the truth… but he also knew she wouldn't spill unless she wanted to. He'd have to resort to other measures… other measures meaning his sister.

But asking Wanda was a dead-end, too. When he asked her about what Esca Rarity was doing—because he knew that she knew—Wanda only laughed and replied, "It's nothing, Pietro. It's exactly as she says. She's just playing the piano."

He still knew they weren't telling him something.

And Pietro was going to find out.

It was two weeks after their last mission that Pietro put his well thought out plan into place. That afternoon, as Esca Rarity was playing the piano again—the same melody as always, although she stopped here and there as if forgetting what she was doing—he stood just around the doorway, recording the song on video.

Next to him, on the other side of the doorway, was James, who'd agreed to help with Pietro's conspiracy. James was holding up a cell phone—although James called it a music box, for some reason—and had the thing called "Siri" on it.

"What song is this?" murmured James, and he let Siri hear what Esca played on the piano.

After a brief moment, the words "Unable to decipher song" popped up.

Discouraged, Pietro groaned, "Looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

James chuckled. "In case you don't remember, Pietro, I don't know many songs. You know, because I've been frozen. Remember that?"

Pietro smirked. "I'm not expecting you to know which song she's playing. I'm hoping you can help me remember it so I can research the notes later."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not a music guy. I'm more of a kill-anything-that-gets-in-my-way-or-annoys-me kind of guy."

"That doesn't mean—"

"What are you two doing?!" exclaimed a voice.

Both Pietro and James yelped and jumped backward only to see Esca Rarity standing guard in the doorway, her hands on her hips. The two men exchanged panicked glances and started stammering that they were just listening, and it was very nice, and what song is it, exactly?

With this, Esca Rarity smirked. "I see," she murmured. "You two are spying on me to see what I've been doing on the piano. Honestly, don't you two have better things to do?"

"No, not really," replied James.

Pietro nodded in agreement.

She sighed, and her eyes found the ceiling. "I'm just playing the gosh darn piano, you guys! Sheesh! Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because you're shutting everyone out while you play it!" spluttered Pietro.

Esca Rarity laughed. "That's because I'm not the best pianist in the world, Pietro," she responded, shaking her head hopelessly. "I can only play Debussy well. I don't want anyone else listening to my atrocious plunking."

Pietro started protesting about how she wasn't atrocious on the piano at all—

"Good to know," she giggled, "but I'd still like to have my peace while I plunk, thank you very much. Now if you two will please show yourselves elsewhere?"

She raised an eyebrow with this last; it was this gesture that made Pietro certain there would be no arguing with her. Knowing this, he huffed and muttered under his breath before sulking around the corner, James on his heels.

Once Esca Rarity retreated back into the common area and immediately began playing the piano again, he sighed and looked at James. "You okay with forming a Plan B?"

"No way," laughed James. "I value my life, thanks."

"Oh, come on, man!"

"I have a feeling she'll tell you before long," chuckled James. "After all, your birthday is in a week, isn't it?"

Pietro blinked, wondering what James meant by that. But by the time he opened his mouth to ask how his birthday tied into it, the ex-assassin was gone.

With a grumble, Pietro walked back to the common area only to see Esca Rarity was off the piano and cooking dinner. He moved toward her and asked, "What happened to the piano playing?"

"I knew you would just come back, so I quit for tonight," she replied tranquilly, facing away from him as she sliced some potatoes.

"Are you… are you purposefully keeping me from knowing what you're doing?!"

"Yes."

With this answer, Pietro clenched his fists in frustration. "Damn it, woman! I'm curious as shit about this!"

She laughed aloud, her shoulder shaking. Finally, she turned around, her face somewhat pink and an eyebrow raised again. "Is waiting for another week so torturous?"

Pietro was about to respond, but he froze. So did Esca Rarity.

"I mean—" she started, but Pietro just leapt off the chair he was sitting on and laughed manically.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, pointing at her as if he'd just decrypted the female mind in its entirety. "So! I was right! You are keeping something from me!"

Esca Rarity sighed and put her head in her hands. She muttered something that sounded like, "Why do I tolerate this child?" But then, louder, she answered, "Alright, fine. Yes, I am. But just because you've found that much out doesn't mean I'm telling you all of it. You can wait seven days."

"I hate waiting," he pouted, crossing his arms.

"I don't care. You'll have to. I've already sworn Wanda to secrecy—I'm sure you've found that out by now."

Pietro harrumphed but didn't outright let Esca Rarity know that she was right. He opened his mouth to hopefully acquire more information about whatever-it-was she was doing, but then Rogers entered the common area, and the two started up a conversation.

He huffed in exasperation. Rogers always had the most brilliant timing… It looked like he'd have to actually wait for whatever was happening.

The thought was maddening.

The following week introduced Pietro to a whole new level of curiosity.

Each night, at seven in the evening exactly, Esca Rarity would play the piano, the same thing over and over again, as if she were programmed to do so. As the days progressed, everything grew smoother and less hesitant—Pietro would sometimes listen, but within five minutes of him standing outside the doorway, Esca Rarity would shoo him away. Or Wanda would: whoever came first.

At last, however, the day came where Pietro would finally know what Esca Rarity had been doing. That morning, she kissed his forehead and murmured something about going to make breakfast, and Pietro, despite not being the most jovial person in the early morning, practically leapt out of bed to join her.

It took an hour to make breakfast and gather everyone into the common area. Esca Rarity had made chocolate-chip pancakes, knowing that they were both Pietro's and Wanda's favorites. Everyone dug in—Bruce joked about having another pancake eating contest, at which Natasha and Esca Rarity both screeched, "NO."

That effectively shut the idea down.

Despite the little killjoy there, however, the rest of the day proceeded nicely. Everyone went out for a day on the lake—somehow, Stark and Pepper managed to snag and secure a nice spot by the shore so that no one would approach them. Afterward, they went out for a late lunch at the cozy diner Wanda and Pietro went to on Thursdays. Then, everyone went back to Stark Tower to watch the first three Harry Potter movies.

By the time Prisoner of Azkaban finished—Esca Rarity was delighted by having the movie backstory to the third film—it was almost eleven at night. And apparently, that meant presents.

Seeing the boxes assembled in front of him and Wanda, Pietro stared and blinked. He'd never seen so many for him and his sister like this before.

"You guys didn't have to do this," they both started, but they were cut off by protests from all the others.

Apparently the Avengers were serious about birthdays.

And so, one by one, the boxes were opened. There were countless wonderful things: new running shoes (as his old ones still had traces of Jell-O in them), a bulletproof jacket (Pietro figured this was some sort of joke, yet it was a useful one), and a personal handgun (probably also another joke, but another useful one) were a few examples. Meanwhile, Wanda was delighted by the complete set of the Harry Potter books and a Gryffindor scarf, as well as a matching handgun. And then, given to the both of them, were two framed pictures of the Avengers in its entirety, everyone there, laughing at something. Pietro figured the picture had probably been taken by a computer sometime during the prank war, as Barton had a suspicious green liquid dripping from his head as he smirked at the others.

For a moment, Wanda and Pietro could only stare at the pictures. Then, they exchanged looks and managed to issue a strangled, "Thank you," to everyone surrounding them.

Of course, they were met by exclamations of "you deserve this," and "you're family now," which is what Pietro rather figured they'd say. At least, he couldn't say he was surprised. He certainly felt like this place was home, but it was only things like this that made him really realize and remember it.

Once everyone was done smothering them with gifts, Esca Rarity walked over. She first gave Wanda a ginormous hug and exclaimed, "I hope you like the scarf," to which Wanda began grinning and assuring Esca Rarity that she did, and very much. Afterward, however, she walked over to Pietro.

"I think it's time I showed you what I've been doing," she declared, a light smile on the corner of her lips.

Pietro grinned, unable to help it. "The hour I've been awaiting! What song did you learn?"

Esca Rarity giggled softly. "I didn't learn it, Pietro," she murmured, looking at him over her shoulder. "I wrote it. For you."

He froze and stared at her, wondering if she'd just said what he thought she said. "You… what?" he asked, swallowing.

"I wrote you a song," she replied, shrugging. "I know it's cliché, but… I figured… I've never sung for anyone before, much less written a song for them… so I thought I'd do it for you. Only for you. So everyone else get out."

By this point, only Tony and Steve were left in the room, as the others had followed Wanda out. Seeing that they were being dismissed, Tony stuck his tongue out and left, followed by Steve, who was shaking his head at Tony's childish behavior.

Satisfied that the room was completely empty, Esca Rarity exhaled shakily and sat at the piano bench. Pietro walked behind her and looked over her shoulder; she inhaled sharply and squeaked, "Sorry, Pietro, I—I'm nervous enough as it is—would it be alright if you stood on the opposite end of the piano?"

"Of course," he replied, still hardly believing that she wrote a song. For him.

Once that was done, she smiled again and moved her hands over the keys. And then she began to play.

It started out as something soft, the familiar song Pietro had heard countless times the past week. He watched her face as she played and noticed that as she concentrated, she narrowed her eyes slightly.

And then she began to sing, and he couldn't help but stare in shock. He'd never heard her sing much—just bits here and there when she was healing, and the one time he'd convinced her to sing and she accidentally affected everyone present.

But this was different. This was Esca Rarity's real voice, and it was beautiful. For a minute or so, he was focused entirely on what her voice sounded like… he felt what she was feeling because of her power, and he almost forgot there were words to her song. Pietro only really registered them close to the end:

And I was blind

There was no light

For me to see

Just what I was missing

And ever since

Ever since that September

You've given me a life

I will always remember

So only you

Will you hear

The depths of my heart

Finally laid bare

Only for you

Only for you

I hope you know now

How much I really love you

And then she was done.

For a moment, she was silent, staring down at the piano, her face red. She blinked once or twice before stammering, "I hope—I mean—I started on the words rather late—they probably could've been better—"

"No," contradicted Pietro, finally able to speak. He shook his head slowly and murmured, "No, they couldn't have been. Just this is perfect. Just hearing you sing. And you really… wrote that… for me?"

Esca Rarity blinked again and nodded, some of the embarrassed color vanishing off her face. "Of course."

Pietro sighed and moved back toward her, standing behind her. He placed his hands on her arms and murmured into her ear, "Thank you, Esca Rarity."

"Thank me?" she laughed, shaking her head. "No. Thank you. For changing my life. For saving it, actually," she added with a halfhearted smirk.

"I could just as easily turn this back around at you," he retorted, reflecting her smirk.

"Today is about you," she protested. "You would not do such a thing. That being said, I have one more gift for you."

She stood up from the piano bench and kissed him lightly—so softly Pietro almost didn't register it. Then she wrapped her arms around him in a hug and murmured into his shoulder, "I hope that wasn't cliché too."

He laughed at that. "It wasn't. Not to me, anyway."

"Oh, great. Thanks. I feel loads better."

Pietro laughed again and kissed the top of her head before keeping his arms around her back. After a moment, however, he said her name. "Esca Rarity."

"Yes?"

"Is that the only time you sing for a while?"

"No," she answered immediately. She moved her head off his shoulder and looked into his eyes as she continued. "No. I will sing whenever you want me to."

He smiled and was surprised by how relieving her answer was. "Okay. Thank you."

"Of course," she sighed, her response muffled because her head rested in the crook of his neck. "But only for you. I'm still nervous about singing…"

"I'd be insulted if anyone else got to hear you sing now."

Now it was Esca Rarity who laughed—Pietro smiled at the sound of it. He was very happy with what he'd finally uncovered, with what he'd heard, what what'd she'd sang and said… and, with a shock, he realized that everything had been completely worth the wait.