Hey, guys! *peeks out from behind Captain Dorito* I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, life kind of happened and then I got writer's block... I tried to make this one longer for you guys, but I also didn't want to run out of things to write in the next chapter.
Pietro POV
"Please, Sokovia, go. I'll be fine." I can still hear Raelynn's words echoing through my head. I shouldn't have left, but I knew that it was my only chance of getting out and now I'm her only chance. Whatever they're going to do to her, it'll be on my head if I don't save her in time.
I could only stand by and watch as two men grabbed the potty-mouthed blonde while a third hit her over the head with the butt of their gun. I wanted to go back for her. Something snapped in me when I heard her cry out as the gun connected with her head and I could only watch as Raelynn slumped over, blood gleaming red in her ash blonde hair. Before I changed my mind, I turned and sped away from the scene, clenching my jaw in anger. Before I knew it, I was on the outskirts of town, if this tiny splotch of civilization could even be called a town. According to the green sign, we were in Plevna, Kansas, population: 98. Turning, I aimed myself in the direction I guessed northeast to be, and continued running. I knew Stark tower was in New York, and that was the first place that I would look for the Avengers. They followed Stark around like lap dogs, so of course they probably made home in his self-named tower. Three days, I thought to myself. There and back to save her in three days.
Two and a half hours later, I found myself tired and wobbly-legged in a bar in Kansas City. I didn't know much about American geography, but I knew that I still had a hell of a long way to go.
"Hey there, Puddin'," a friendly looking redhead said from behind the bar as I sat down, "what can I get for 'ya?"
"Whatever's the cheapest," I grumbled, realizing that I didn't have any money.
"Short on cash, eh, Sugar?" Something like that, I thought. Then a thought came to me. You don't have to have Wanda's mind manipulation powers to get something.
"Girlfriend just kicked me out," I said, the lie flying off of my tongue as I tried to play up my weariness. "She took my wallet and my car and left me to walk here from Lawrence," picking a random name of a town I'd passed on my way here. "All I have to my name is one dollar." The waitress's brown eyes softened and a sympathetic frown grew across her freckled face.
"Now why would she do something like that?" She asked, leaning down on the bar obviously so she could show off her cleavage. Fine, I'll play along.
"She thought I wasn't worth her time anymore." I leaned on the bar, putting my head in my hands. "And you know what the worst thing is? I came all the way from Russia to be with her, and she left me stranded with nothing. My parents are dead and my sister will not speak to me. I'm between jobs. I'm completely on my own." I silently thanked whoever was listening for my thick accent and people's inability to differentiate Russian and Sokovian accents.
"Oh, Sweetie, you don't need her. My name's Lizzie and you go ahead and order whatever you want. It's on the house."
"Oh, no I cannot just take a meal from you. At least let me write an IOU, as you call it." I argue, hoping and praying that she will insist on paying for my meal.
"I won't take an IOU, but I'll settle for your name," she flashed me a smile.
"Erik." Fake name.
"Well, Erik, you look over the menu and I'll come back and get you whatever you want," Lizzie said with a wink. Ugh, you might as well just sit on my lap and attack my mouth and you'd be less obvious with your intentions than you are being right now. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as she sauntered away, purposely trying to show off her butt. As much as I hate to say it, having girls throw themselves at me was a lot more fun before I died.
Half an hour later, Lizzie dropped the biggest plate of food I've ever seen in front of me. I didn't even have time to see how good it looked before I started tearing into it. I was currently shoving a quarter-pounder cheeseburger in my face while debating what to eat next, the corn on the cob, or the heaping pile of french fries that was left on my plate. I paused halfway through the burger to drain the entire glass of water before finishing the sandwich. I decided to eat the corn next, eating the entire cob in about two minutes, and I was eating like a sloth. I downed another glass of water before moving on to my fries, finally feeling my energy return. I ate the fries quickly, shaking my legs under the bar to keep them from cramping like they always do if I sit still for too long. Lizzie came back for the sixth time during my meal to take my glass and fill my water one more time, but by the time she was back with it, I was long gone. I had a timeline to keep.
I ran for another four hours before I needed to stop again, this time finding myself in a small town in Iowa called Waverly. I slowed to a light jog as I neared the edge of town, looking for any abandoned houses or barns to sleep in. The sun was coming up and I can't run very well with everyone being able to see me. I might set someone off that I'm here and put innocent people in danger. Eventually, I came across a farm that seemed like it might as well be in the literal middle of nowhere and while the house looked inhabited, it looked like I could hide out in the barn until the afternoon. I zoom over to the barn and open the large sliding door just far enough for me to slip in. The first thing I was met with was an old beat-up green tractor and a filthy dust and dirt floor. Better than nothing, I guess. I keep walking until I find a convenient pile of hay and buried myself as far down as I dared before drifting off to sleep.
"Don't you dare move, punk." I felt something cold on the back of my neck. "You almost gave my wife a heart attack. I spilled my coffee. Dropped it. Fucking broke my favorite mug." I know that voice.
"Hey there, old man. Long time, no see," I say, turning around slowly as not to alarm the archer.
"Speedy?" Clint Barton lowered his bow.
"The one and only." I sit up and can't help the giant grin that spreads across my face.
"But I saw you die. You took eleven bullets for me."
"I'm just harder to get rid of than your average Sokovian," I say, standing up. Before I know it, Clint attacks me in a strangely fatherly bear hug.
"I missed you, you quick little bastard," he chuckled and I joined him, remembering when I left him to run on his own back in Sokovia.
"As I hear, the Captain does not like that sort of language," I said, earning a punch on the shoulder from Clint.
"Come on, I'll introduce you to my family."
So, I tried to write this chapter from Pietro's point of view and I know it's a little choppy and sped along, but that's how I feel like Pietro thinks. Nothing moves fast enough for him, so I tried to reflect that in my writing. Let me know how you guys like it and if I should continue switching PoV's.
Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to continue following and favoriting (I don't know if I spelled that right, I've been staring at it for ten minutes and I think I've gone mad) and don't be afraid to drop a review! :)