Moving Too Fast (Quicksilver X OC)

Chapter Four: Confessions Of An Apocalypse Magnet

Pietro

  Helen's worried that Wanda might've seriously messed with Violet's — it's strange to be calling my mystery girl by a name — head. After getting a little bit of medication to help calm her down, Violet had passed out like she hadn't slept in six weeks. That was a day and a half ago, and she's still not awake. I haven't told Helen, but Wanda apparently used her abilities on Violet for almost two hours straight. I think she suspects, though, and Helen's told me point blank that she may even keep Violet under for a while so that she can give her a better chance at keeping her sanity.

Since our parents' deaths I don't think I've ever been as furious at my sister as I have been for the last 36 hours.

We haven't really spoken since she'd told me the extent of the torture she'd put Violet through — well, other than the subsequent argument we'd had in Sokovian. No one's asked me exactly what was said so far, but it's clear to everyone that's in the compound that it wasn't pretty. I have, however, had Natasha and Clint ask why I care as much as I do about what's happened to the girl. They probably know that Wanda crossed a line — if Helen hasn't spread that piece of information then I have no other explanation for the question — but they know there's little that gets between Wanda and I. It's hard to explain without telling everyone exactly what happened, but I gave them what I could. It's not just my story.

She'd saved me when she didn't have to — she probably shouldn't have saved me. Violet's not the one with the powers that are supposed to help make her better, but she still risked herself and did what she could for me, of all people. I'd helped put the creation of Ultron into motion in the first place. And if she hadn't kept me safe, none of this would've happened to her. So, that makes everything that happens to her my fault. Or, at the very least, my responsibility.

I don't like owing people, but I take my obligations seriously. When you've never had much, it's pretty much all you can do. The absolute least I can do is get her out of the thing helping me caused.

Violet

"Try now," a female voice directs. Bright light is immediately shone into my eye, through a closed eyelid, and I flinch like I've been burned.

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, Violet." a hand is placed in mine. "Now."

I do as I'm told.

"She's awake," the second voice calls, presumably to the first, then she resumes talking to me. "You probably feel groggy right now and that's okay. Within a few minutes that should wear off."

True to the woman's word, my mind begins to feel less clouded as time ticks by and eventually I can blink open my eyes and lift myself up onto my elbows. I seem to be in a medical setting. I can barely name anything in the room, but it's clear that that's where I am. A woman, I think... I think Helen is her name? Anyway, Helen sits at a computer not three feet away from my cot, smiling a little with exhausted circles under her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." And disoriented. What time is it? I glance outside and see that it's probably the wee hours of the morning.

"Do you know where you are?" she continues, gently pushing the screen of her laptop down while getting up from her chair. I shake my head. "Do you remember how you got here?" Again, no.

But as soon as I shake my head I hesitate and slowly nod, pieces of things coming back to me. It feels more like a dream mixed with a nightmare more than anything else though, so I question whether or not I'd just made it up. I could've sworn I'd seen the boy... Pietro, I want to say.