Silver & Gold || Pietro Maximoff

Chapter 4

A/N: This one is from Pietro's perspective. Enjoy!

May 2, 2015

23:11

Novi Grad Church, Sokovia

The air was so frigid that the scent of it burned your nose. It was almost crisp enough that the feeling of it through your nose as you inhaled felt like the blade of a knife. You spend enough days and nights in the cold though, and the pain becomes bearable. Normal.

In a place like Sokovia, everything was always frozen. There was only a month or two in the summer when things finally thawed enough to provide a much-needed break from the cold. It was long enough to give you hope that things may be nice and beautiful. It was long enough to let flowers bloom into soft petals and vibrant colors. But suddenly the warmth disappeared and the cold came back with a vengeance.  Happiness fled as quickly as the delicate flowers shriveled from the frost.

Sokovia is not an easy place to live. Its harsh winters and crumbling economy make comfort and stability hard to come by. There is little wealth among the population while there is an overwhelming amount of hunger and sickness. The country forces its citizens to adapt to become strong and resilient, but it often leaves most sad and calloused.

Every once in a while, you might stumble across a person who breaks away from that stereotype. The kind of person who radiates a feeling of warmth similar to the way one might bask in the sunlight after a long winter. They make the coldness of the outside world seem distant, maybe even tolerable.

That was the way my parents were. Like a large bonfire in the deadliest part of the winter. Like a bright light in the darkest part of the night. Up until I was 10, Sokovia seemed like the most wonderful place on Earth. I watched sitcoms with my sister, Wanda. I learned poker with my dad at the dining room table. We mended the rules of the board games we played because we had missing pieces.

Any time spent with my parents felt like pure joy. Until they were gone. 

All it took was one bomb, made by one narcissistic billionaire, to ruin everything good. To throw my sister and I onto the streets to fend for ourselves. To deprive us of our only family besides each other.

It took some time, but since then I've learned to bury that past deep down or else it will drive me insane. The only thing I try to carry with me from the past is the way my mother and father used to make light of every situation, no matter how horrible.

I do my best to bring a smile to my sister's face because it does not come as often as it once used to. I do my best to bring happiness to others in Sokovia who have lost a lot, like myself, due to the bombings. Bringing joy and humor to other people's lives is one of the few things that keeps me going.

Not to mention, my hatred for Stark.

That's why Wanda and I were on our way to the old, abandoned church at the center of the city. Once beautiful and pristine, now fenced off and stained from lack of upkeep. It's the way most things end up around here.

"What do you think this is all about?" I asked Wanda as she stared directly at the church, most likely trying to sense the presence of others, to gauge if it was a setup.

"I don't know," Wanda admitted while continuing down the cobblestone street towards the opening in the gate. "But if it allows us to finish what we started, it's worth finding out."

I took a deep breath and nodded. We were only a few feet away so I checked my shoulder to make sure we weren't being followed.

I did my best to act unshaken by the situation, but the uneasiness of not knowing who our mystery consultant was, as well as the freaky location of an abandoned church, did nothing to calm my nerves.