Where your loyalties lie (Two New Bartons book 2) (completed)

Bombs - Pietro

My eyes are glued the TV, which is playing the news. I normally don't care much, but this story has my attention. 

Bombing. 

Every time they replay the blast, I feel flashbacks come closer to the surface. I know what it feels like to be there. I know the terror, the hate, the grief. 

12 dead. Including King T'Chaka. A leader. A father. A husband. I remember the pain when our parents fell through the hole in our apartment all those years ago. The knowledge that I'd never see them again. That I'd have to look after Wanda alone. 

I blink, and suddenly, I'm there again. I can feel my sister's tears on my shirt. She's trembling in my arms, sobbing. I desperately want to cry, too, but I can't. I have to stay strong. For her. For my parents. For myself. If I start to cry, I won't be able to stop. But, as soon as Wanda finally cries herself to sleep, I break down. I can't hold it in anymore. I know I won't sleep, not with that name staring me in the face. 

With Wanda asleep, I feel more alone than I have before or since. I resist the urge to wake her so I can hear her voice. She's calm when she's asleep. The tears are drying on her face. There's even a tiny smile on her lips. I'm glad that, in this terrifying time, her mind allows her to feel even a tiny glimmer of joy. We may never feels that again. 

"Pietro! Pietro!" Clint's voice pulls me from my daze. Relief breaks over his face as my eyes focus on him.

"Wanda!" I gasp, "Wanda! Where's Wanda?" I suddenly notice the tears on my cheeks. I've been crying.

"It's okay," Laura says, stroking my hair, dripping with sweat, out of my face. The kids are nowhere to be seen. "Wanda's okay. She's still at the facility. She's safe."

"Safe," I murmur, nodding. But is she really? 

Disjointed images flash through my mind. Wanda crying. The gaping hole in the floor. The table half in, half out of the room. Smoke. Stark Industries. 

"Hey, calm down," Clint whispers as my breathing picks up again. But this time, I'm not scared. I'm angry.

Tony Stark's face joins the images, and I feel hate stronger than I've felt since I was lying under that bed, cradling Wanda, Stark's name staring me in the face. 

I think of Lagos, last month. I imagine Wanda having similar memories as she watches that building flaming. I picture her, sitting on her bed, fighting the flashbacks alone. The hate grows. None of that would have happened if not for Tony Stark. If he hadn't made those bombs. 

But then a word snags at me. Alone. Wanda went though all that alone. She would have been blaming herself, if I know her. She'd have convinced herself she needs to be "restrained", like those Sokovia Accords say. And she had to do it all alone. I wasn't there for her. All because I was selfish. Because I valued the peace and family of the farm over my own sister. And a new hate joins the hate of Stark in my brain. Suddenly, I hate myself. 

Only as I look up do I notice that I've slowed the world down. That the Bartons' faces are almost frozen in practically identical expression of worry. That in less than a second, I went from a mind flooded with panic to a completely clear head, clouded only by hate. 

I jump to my feet and flee from the house, into the trees surrounding the farm. I climb up a particularly large one, all the way to the top. I straighten up, take a deep breath, and scream at the top of my lungs. I have no idea how this will sound to the others, in normal speed. Maybe they won't even hear it. I scream for as long as my breath lasts, then I stop, panting.

As time speeds up again, and the birds resume singing, I sink down and sit in a fork in the tree. 

It takes several minutes before Clint arrives at the base of my tree. I've calmed mostly calmed down, now. My breathing is normal, and I have no emotions left. I'm completely empty.

"You mind coming down?!" Clint yells up, "It's just, I don't think my throat can handle a conversation at this distance!"

I scramble down at top speed. He doesn't even blink. Just reaches up and ruffles my hair. 

"You good now?" he asks.

"I'm good now."

Word count: 760

Hey guys! If you're reading this, thank you so much for the support! I'm sorry, for the very, very staggered updates, I'm not very good at just sitting down and writing. I do, however, promise to keep this going for as long as possible, so stay tuned.

This book is going to be a lot more structured than Two New Bartons, since I'm actually following the plot Captain America: Civil War instead of just winging it. If you're reading this before TNB, stop. This is the second book. Read TNB first.

Don't forget to vote and comment, I really appreciate it!

Happy reading! :)

-Ashlley