In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

Pietro

Because I figured Wanda was still hurting, as I was, although hers was about ten times more painful, since that was her brother, I decided to do something for her. I thought it was a nice gesture, although after I saw it made, I knew I needed someone else's opinion to feel okay.

"Steve!" I called around the Compound. "Has anyone seen Steve Rogers?"

"Clara!" Natasha called from the balcony above me. "Gym!"

"Of course," I muttered, rolling my eyes, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Shifting the box into my arms, I opened a portal into the work out room.

A thump went through the empty room; his fist hitting the punching bag. Multiple hits followed, harder than usual.

Just by the rough hits I felt as though I shouldn't have been bothering him. I turned to exit, but Steve had already spotted me.

"Clara!" he called, stepping out from behind the bag. "What's up?"

I balanced it in my hand, popping open the lid. On top of his jacket neatly folded-- cleaned of the blood and sewed the bullet holes-- was a golden plaque that read:

Avenger
Pietro Maximoff

Steve's smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. "What's wrong with it?"

"Everyone has a superhero name now. Wanda got drafted as an Avenger, and I know in my heart, he deserves it too, but I just can't think of a darn name."

Steve furrowed his brow. "Do you have any in mind?"

"Sonic, but I'd like to keep that to myself. I had Blue Streak, or for short, B.S.--"

"What?" Steve asked, his true smile showing.

I paused, then nodded. "I now realize the flaw with that."

"Clara, I'm so lucky to know you."

"Aw," I said, patting his cheek in admiration, but quickly getting back to the point, "So, the other one was Quickblue."

"That's not terrible," Steve said, "Why?"

"Because he's quick, and blue comes off of him when he runs. Well, silver, too, but--"

"Quicksilver," Steve interrupted.

I cupped his face in my hand, giving him a fast kiss. "You're the man, Steve."

•                •              •              •             •             •

Days later, I approached Wanda and Vision as they sat together on the front lawn of the Compound.

"Hey guys," I greeted, raising the box in my arms. "Sorry to interrupt, but Wanda, may I steal you for a second?"

Wanda nodded her head. She softly smiled at Vision, then followed next to me as we distanced ourselves from Vision and the Compound.

"You have a box," Wanda observed when we came to a halt.

Quite embarrassingly, my hands started to shake with nerves, fearing rejection from the girl. I took a deep breath.

"Look, I don't know if it's too soon, or too late, but it was finished, so I thought I'd do it now," I rambled, shrinking under her confused gaze. "We hadn't known him long before he passed, but I'd like you to know that he was as much Avengers material as the rest of us are. He died a hero. An Avenger."

I passed Wanda the box, which held the jacket and plaque that now read:
In memory of an Avenger
Pietro Maximoff
Quicksilver

Wanda stared at his jacket, blinking wildly. She then sighed shakily and met my eyes. "Thank you, Portals."