Picture is Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver in Avengers: Age Of Ultron by Marvel Studios.
Music is "I'm Sending You Away" by M83 from the Oblivion OST.
All rights go to their rightful owners.
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"Okay, this looks bad. You cowboy around with the Avengers some. Guys got, what, armour. Magic. Super-powers. I'm an orphan raised by carnies fighting with a stick and a string from the Paleolithic era. So when I say this looks 'bad'? I promise you it feels worse." ~Clint Barton
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CHAPTER TWO
By the time I get Mr. Clumsy inside my apartment, he's delirious to say the least. His eyes are rolled back in his head, barely open, and his body's limp. I get him to the living room couch, letting him fall onto it with little force to his head. I place a pillow under his head, and a blanket over his body. I feel sorry for the guy. I'm only 5'3", so a small sofa works for me. This guy's feet are hanging off at least six inches.
Checking his forehead for a fever, his skin feels icy and chilled. I kneel down on my knees and listen to his breathing for a moment. "Don't die on me, okay?"
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When the sun starts to peak over the houses and shines into my window, my eyes flutter open. Being an extreme morning person, my friends have given me the name Morning Glory.
I sit up, realizing that sleeping on the living room chair probably wasn't the smartest idea. My back is killing me. And my hair is a sight for sore eyes.
All the memories from last night come flooding back to me, and I remember why I'm here in the first place. My head jerks over towards the couch, and my mystery guest is still sound asleep. Sighing in relief, I get up, deciding to make breakfast. I'm hungry, and I think my mystery guest will be too when he decides to join the land of the living.
Humming to myself, I flip the stove top on to medium and scramble some eggs and bacon. Just as I'm finishing the coffee, I hear a thud from the living room around the corner. I go to see what made the strange noise.
Laying on the floor beside the couch is the strange man that I rescued from my front lawn. He's awake, barely, and he looks as if he's surprised to be here. Can't say I blame him. How would you feel if some weird girl took you into her house and let you sleep there?
"Are you okay?" I ask, looking him over for signs of injury. He looks different when he's awake. More like, he looks like he's not dead.
The guy rubs the top of his head, probably where he pumped it in the fall. He starts talking in a foreign language. "Uh, great. Just my luck I get an tourist." I place my hands on my hips. "Do you speak English?" He keeps muttering to himself in a foreign language, looking around my apparent. "What are you, Russian? German?"
He looks directly at me when I say this. "I am not Russian, I am Sokovian."
Why does that country sound familiar? Wait...
I shake my head. "What's your name, Sokovian?"
He sits up straight, looking at me with a questioning stare. "Where is my sister? Where are my friends? This is not where I remember being." He begins to talk very fast.
"Hey, hey," I say, sitting down in front of him, trying to calm him down. His forehead is beginning to sweat and his body is starting to shiver. "Slow down. I'm trying to help. If you tell me your name, maybe I can help you find your family."
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Age of Glory | Pietro Maximoff
FanfictionAGE OF GLORY Book One · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · "Pietro," Wanda whispers to him in Sokovian, "Pietro, come back. Dear brother, I need you." His vitals come back on, only a moment passes before he flat lines again, but there's still brain activity. "Tony, mo...
