Sidelined (an Avengers Story)

Chapter 2: Boundaries

Wanda Maximoff

For a while, I thought there was nothing worse than Pietro's obsession with the show Grey's Anatomy, until last week when he discovered Once Upon A Time. Damn Tony Stark for his iPads with their built-in unlimited Netflix subscriptions and wireless cards that never falter. Pietro brings that thing everywhere. He's currently sprawled out on a bench-seat in the quinjet's small lounge area, staring at his iPad and eating a granola bar.

I cringe at the opening theme to Once Upon A Time.

"Pietro, don't you think you should be reading up on the mission?" I ask, and then sit beside him on the bench, covering the iPad's screen with one hand. "I could read it to you." Because God knows he hadn't been paying attention to Steve at all, and he never mastered reading in English. English lessons in Hydra had come after Pietro's powers had emerged and he'd had no attention span for much of anything. It's a wonder that he's fluent in any language but our own.

He grunts at me and pushes my hand away. No matter. He'll turn off the show and start playing some video game in a minute. Maybe I'm being unfair to the shows. It's not them I'm annoyed with; it's how Pietro watches them. Thirty seconds here—change the show—thirty seconds there—turn it off, play a game.

"Dragă, please turn it off. I want to talk about the mission."

Pietro groans and, in a blur of motion, the iPad disappears. His blue eyes are clear and focused solely on me. I smile, glad to finally have his undivided attention today. It didn't used to be so hard, but ever since that day, it's been a struggle.

"I want to keep an open mind-link with you," I say. "I know we agreed that we'd only do it for emergencies, but I won't be able to concentrate on what I'm doing if I can't feel that you're okay."

"And if you get hurt, because you're distracted by me?" Pietro asks, eyes darkening. "Anything can happen, soră. I don't think it's a good idea."

I hate that phrase: anything can happen. "Then maybe you shouldn't do anything to distract me. You should play safe."

"I won't do anything Clint won't," he says.

"I wish you'd stop making jokes."

"I'm not joking." He shrugs. "Will you play safe? What does that even mean? Run from trouble? We're here to stop the trouble."

"No, you're here to get people out of the way."

"While you fight?" His expression goes as dark as his eyes. "And when Steve calls in the Rescue team for backup, what should I do? Leave you and run? You know that's not going to happen." He sighs, and turns on the bench to fully face me. I mimic his pose.

He sighs. "Months ago, before Ultron, you wouldn't even be talking to me about this. You would trust me to take care of myself."

"No, I wouldn't!" I snap, and then bite my lip. Yes, I would have. In fact, I did. With Ultron, we'd separated a lot, but that last time—I cringe, guilt heavy in my chest. I'll never get over it. I'll never forgive myself, but... I promised I'd try.

And I'm trying.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

He shrugs and after a beat asks, "Would you really read the mission report to me?"