Skies Clearing (Maximoff Twins fanfic)

Chapter Eight

"I can't recognise myself lately...."

RED

The light from the window pulls me out of my sleep. I lie there for a moment, watching the patterns of sunlight on the gray carpet.

Pietro is back. I don't know what to feel.

I slide my hand over my face and then pull myself from the bed. I take a jacket from my closet, and don't notice until I have it on that it's Pietro's. His favorite old black and white one. I touch the arrows on the sleeves and then pull it closer around me.

I walk down the halls to the smaller kitchen and am surprised to see Bucky, Pietro, and Natasha already seated on the stools. Sam pours batter into a waffle iron I didn't know we had.

Bucky sees me standing at the door and waves. "Morning, Wanda."

"Morning, Buck. Nat, Sam. Pietro."

At his name, Pietro coughs slightly and looks down.

"Go on, Silver," says Bucky softly.

"Um, Wanda," Pietro says, "could you... not call me Pietro?"

My heart drops. "What?"

"I mean...." He glances up at me and then back down. "I'm not exactly, him, right now. I don't know him. I've been- I mean, I'm Quicksilver."

"Quicksilver," I repeat. No. No, this isn't right. This isn't the name that belongs to my brother. I close my eyes and breathe out slowly. "Okay," I manage to say. Can he tell my smile is barely forced?

Relief spreads across his face now, and Quicksilver smiles too.

I sit down next to him.

Sam slides a plate of waffles in front of me. Nat falls back into conversation with Bucky, and I pretend to listen.

My fingers drift to the arrows on my jacket sleeves again. I try to imagine, for a moment, that it's Pietro sitting next to me. But he's too quiet, and he's too unsure, and he keeps reaching up to push back his hair. A nervous habit I've never seen before, because Pietro doesn't get nervous.

None of this feels right.

I thought that nothing could be worse than Pietro's death.

But I've lost him again, and I was wrong.

BLUE

Wanda doesn't stay at breakfast long. She excuses herself, saying the waffles were delicious, but she has to go train. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

I watch her dark hair disappear around the corner and my hand starts tapping in blue on the table.

Natasha touches my shoulder. "She understands, Quicksilver. It's hard, but she understands."

"I know," I say. "I still hurt her."

Sam closes the waffle iron. I can almost feel them searching for something to say, but there's nothing, because I know I'm right.

The previously red-armored man walks into the kitchen. Now he wears casual clothes, is barefoot, and his hair is sticking out around his head. Tony Stark, they said. And when he sees the stack of waffles, he frowns. "Wilson, I thought we were having eggs and bacon today."

"That was two days ago," says Sam. "I chose waffles today."

Tony sighs heavily and slides onto the empty seat next to me, grabbing three waffles anyway. "How do you survive with these barbarians, Maximoff?"

("Quicksilver," Bucky corrects.

"Right, 'cos you're quick. Sure.")

I smile. "I will admit, I don't know how you put up with them every day. I'm pretty sure these people are insane."

Natasha gasps and lightly smacks the back of my head.

"Cold, Silver," says Bucky. "That's cold."

Tony laughs, looks right at me and says, "I like you, kid." He takes a big bite of the waffles in his hand. "Remind me of someone I know."

"I thought you didn't like anyone," says Bucky.

"I like Rhodey!" Tony says defensively. "And Pepper. And Happy. And, ah-"

Sam laughs and shakes his head. "Whatever, man."

"And I like bacon," Tony mutters.

"Get over it," Natasha says, and carries her plate to the sink.

Tony sticks out his tongue.

Are they heroes or are they children? At this point, I can't tell.

A/N hi guys, some of you might know that this month is National Novel Writing Month. I very stupidly promised my friend that I wouldn't write fanfic for my project. So it might be a little harder to update until November is over, please be patient, I love you all ❤️