Solo Act

Chapter One

My hand trembled as I pulled the dirty photo from the drawer for the third time that day. I took it back to the bed and stared at it while sitting on the edge of the thick mattress. I hadn't felt this way since the first week after his death. Like my legs were too heavy to move. My mind to clouded to think. My eyesight too blurry to see straight. Probably due to the tears. I angrily brushed them away and glanced at the open door of the guest room Tony Stark had lent me. I was told this was my home. I could make the room my own. But it remained plain. I knew they wouldn't keep me here long.

Dangerous. Villain. Mutant. Unnatural. Freak. Monster.

I had been called all those things. Not only random civilians or bloggers or conspiracy theorists. On live TV. On CNN news for god's sake. Of course if the news said it was so, it must be true, right? Everyone seemed to think so. After the disaster in Africa a few months before, I seemed to be more hated than the Winter Soldier. Probably because Bucky had been proved innocent by King T'Challa. They were still fugitives for running from the law and refusing to sign the Accords, unfortunately. Bucky was still considered dangerous because of his involvement with HYDRA. I had been able to clean all those mind tricks from his head though. At least my magic's good for something.

Another tear slipped down my cheek as I glanced down at the photo again. The only one I had of my brother. He was grinning at the camera with an arrogant stance, but I saw past that. To his amused expression and laughing eyes. He was laughing at me as I took my first picture ever. That had been the first time I had ever seen or used a camera. Let's just say I had been a little over excited. I had since loved photography. That had only been a year ago. Pietro looked the same as I last saw him smiling, except a bit shorter and younger. The one thing that never changed was his grin.

"Hey," Steve announced his presence, making me jump and quickly hide both my tears and the picture. Judging by his soft dad face, though, he had already seen.

"Hello," I tried to play it off coolly. I could feel the tremble in my voice. There goes that plan.

He sat next to me on the bed. I was having serious déjavù now. "Did you want to talk about it?"

Why do you even pretend to care? I wondered darkly. Only one person ever cared. But now he was gone.

I handed him the photo regardless. The super soldier took it gently in his hand and studied it, eyebrows pressed together in concentration. He looked back up at me sympathetically. I hated that look. Whenever people have it on, they are only pushing back the thought, better her then me. I know. I've read some people's minds. I didn't dare do it to any of the Avengers, fearing that they may be able to sense me as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. But everyone thought the same thing.

"I just miss him," I let slip out. I glanced up at Steve's face again and changed the subject. "I'm kind of hungry right now though. Is dinner ready?"

"Oh yeah," he stood and reached out a hand for me to grab. "That's what I came here to tell you."

"Good," I smiled, not at all craving food. I took his hand and he pulled me up off the bed, smiling fatherly. Or motherly. Tony always joked he was the mom of the Avengers. I didn't really know the difference. My parents had gone when me and Pietro were young. Not very many memories had them with us. But I hated to think about those memories anyway. They only led to the bad ones. Which had been half my life. A bad memory.

Dinner was short. Left overs, as usual. This time I got some random spaghetti I didn't remember having the first time. You never know what you could find in the fridge. Nothing really interesting happened like the food fight the boys had the other night or the Fast and Furious marathon from a week ago. In fact it was rather serious with a bit of tension in the air. Everyone kept glancing at me, sometimes skeptically, as if they were trying to figure something out, and other times worriedly. It started to make me anxious.