It's Just You and Me, Okay?

Chapter 36

third persons pov

Disappointment.

The only thing written across the boy's face when he took a look at the sight in front of him.

Shame.

The only feeling she felt as she saw his glance between the ruckus and herself, after a moment his face contorted to more of an irritated sigh. The moment he saw what damage she had caused, the room felt as if it were closing in on her and the only people in there were themselves.
She wanted to cry. Never before had he looked at her with such a dismay expression. Before she could explain to her dearest twin, the guards already had her in cuffs, specialized ones. The set of eyes she was under made her face burn with embarrassment. Some smiled at her attempt to stand up to carmilla, knowing that someday this would've happened and others only watched the scene go down before continuing back to their activities.
Pietro's gaze never left wanda's as they calmly escorted her out of the room until they were stopped at the door where Strucker himself was standing alongside his most loyal companion, Zemo.
"I expected better from you maximoff.."He shook his head, looking back up to the guards.
"Take her to the pit" Before they managed to take a step, Pietro stepped in.

"Is that really necessary? She didn't mean to! Sh-she couldn't control it, give her a chance please!" He fought back but they only quickened their pace.

"It's okay p." she softly looks up at her brother, assuring him that she will be okay. The twins were soon separated, Pietro standing in the middle of the hallway where they had left him, where they had said their goodbyes, because who knew how long they'd keep her there. Could be for months, time will only tell but at this moment Pietro could only feel sorrow for his sister, only wishing they wouldn't put her in any more pain, hoping that the 'pit' wasn't as bad as it seemed. That's all he could do was hope.

~~~

They say the first sign of when you're starting to lose yourself is when you start to be unsure of everything. Things you want, things you need, your feelings, everything. Always questioning the little things, letting your mind over power your body. Where it goes into an automatic overdrive.
Another not- so obvious sign they say is socializing. The way you slowly begin to divert your attention to nothing but the cemented walls. No sarcastic comments, no gestures, not one of your usual comebacks, not even a nod. Feeling yourself ebbing away into the dust that hid away in between the cracks of the walls. You can't help but think that this is it. You'll never get out of here, no way you could, unless a miracle were to happen. But who believes in miracles these days? All the hope you once had died months ago, maybe even years ago and yet you were just coming to the realization of it all.
You never wanted to accept this life you call yours, but it's all you had. You didn't deserve this life. You never asked for it, you deserved better. Didn't you? You always asked yourself 'what had I done to receive such a life, an unwanted, miserable life?' The question pops up every now and then, leaving you to think of all the possible scenarios that might've led you to this moment right here. Stuck in the basement of a building, used as a labrat. A prison of sorts, a type of hell you'd never wish on a soul. No matter what they did, had done, or will do. Well maybe that could be reconsidered...

The time was ticking for y/n and she nor anyone else knew it. She'd lost everything, what more could she lose? Hope was the only thing that kept her afloat in this dreadful state, and even that was lost. Something so simple, yet life saving. What else was there left? Living out the rest of her days in this block? I think we all could name a better place than this...

The night was cold even under ground and with a little blanket was all she had to try and keep herself warm. The cemented walls and floor didn't help with the temperature either, only made it ten times unpleasant, but she's been through worse right? Through the times where she couldn't quiet her mind and to where even sleep didn't help, she occupied herself somehow. Counting the scratched out tally marks on the walls from her long overdue stay, she'd counted a total of 212 tallies until she eventually lost hope and therefore lost count of the wretched days. Wondering how long ago it was since the last tally mark was drawn. Wondering how she'd find herself here. Wondering when this nightmare could potentially come to an end. But all the wondering only came out as even more regret and scrutinizing every little thing that she could've done differently- should've done differently.