Disappeared- {Pietro Maximoff}

Chapter 31

It had been too long since Pietro's last run.

The Avengers considered it unsafe to let him use his speed in public and there was only so many times he could lap the compound before it got boring.

Despite the danger of the plan they were enacting, Pietro couldn't help but feel completely at ease for the first time in a while. Wanda was safe, he'd asked Alex to get her away without making it a big deal and she had done so. The Alex part of the plan was a bit riskier and he hated that they were separated, but he also knew that there was no way she would let herself mess it up.

He placed another bomb, set the timer and ran off again. At the next junction, he made a mark where he turned and not too far along, he reached stairs. He slid down the bannister and carried on running.

It was darker, the corridors endless until Pietro hit a dead end. He shook the last of the gasoline out of the can and was about to turn when he heard a small cry.

The noise echoed in the quiet and it was followed by little shushing noises. Pietro looked around, eyes focusing in the darkness until they caught sight of a thin line running down the wall.

"A secret door? I love secret doors!"

It opened when Pietro touched his hands to it, though not very far; hitting something just behind it. Pietro squeezed through anyway.

His foot hit something and Pietro stumbled before managing to get upright. He looked down to see what he'd tripped on and almost threw up.

It was a body. A small boy curled up, looking fast asleep. His head was facing up, mouth hung open and Pietro could now see it was because the floor was covered in excrement.

"Oh my god." he whispered, stepping back and hitting another body, "Oh my god."

He turned slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. It wasn't real darkness though, just so many bodies that all the light was blocked out. Some of them were on the floor but the further away from the door Pietro got, the more children there were, packed so tightly to one another that even if one passed out, their body would remain upright.

It smelt awful and Pietro couldn't get his hand up to his nose to hold it. So instead he spoke, his voice filling the room

"Are any of you teleporters? Or mind-readers."

"Phoenix is. A mind-reader, not a teleporter."

Pietro moved carefully, looking at the young boy who had spoken, "Which one is she?"

He nodded his head down at the ground and nudged the body at his feet. "She's mute. Can tell her what you want though."

Pietro managed to get a little bit closer to her and said, "Phoenix, can you speak to Alessandra Stark for me? Tell her the plan is off, there are mutants here."

The girl looked up through her fringe and Pietro had a random observation that if it wasn't so dark and her hair so dirty, it would be coloured vivid ginger. Maybe that was where her name came from; a creature that lived in flames. He wished he could give her the chance to be reborn.

"Did you hear me? Tell Alessandra Stark, she's in this building, that she has to teleport us out of here," He tried to crouch but felt so many bodies around him that vomit rose, "Are you alright?"

Phoenix just carried on looking at him.

He waited there for as long as he could. Out of nowhere, his phone began to chime and when he finally moved around enough to get it out, he saw it was the timer Alex had made him set. And Alex wasn't there or communicating with him.

Pietro rubbed a hand over his face, trying to sort through everything. He had no time, he just had to do something and Pietro wasn't sure if he would make the right choice. Whatever he did, someone would say it was wrong.

Alex would know what to do. She would save the children and finish the mission they planned, but Pietro couldn't. He didn't have the power too, he had to pick one.

"You can read minds, Alex," he tried to tap his fingers against his legs but there was no room to, "Help me. Get them out of here so I can destroy this fucker."

There was no response. Phoenix had closed her eyes.

Hands shaking, Pietro pulled the matches out of his pocket and tried to light one. He did it too hard and it broke. He destroyed the other four until there was one left.

"Alex," he begged one last time, "Where are you, please?"

There was nothing, no sign telling him what to do.

With a deep breath, he struck the final match across the side of the pack. It lit instantly and in the light it provided, he could see the faces of the Panfortis even more clearly. There was so many of them and yet none of them looked even close to eighteen. This wasn't what they'd expected, at any point while making the plan.

They were just children. Something terrible had happened to them, hell, he didn't even know how many of them were alive.

"Please, Alex," he began walking back to the door, moving carefully to avoid stepping on the children. At the door, he turned and held the match up,

"I'm so sorry."