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A little picture.
When Pietro was a little boy, he dreamed of becoming a soldier. He had toy guns and plastic figurines scattered everywhere around the tiny apartment complex his family lived in, all over the living room and kitchen floor as well as the tables. It used to annoy his mother so much that she would threaten to throw them all away in his sleep. His father would only buy him more. Wanda had always enjoyed his miniature arguments with their mother; it meant that the attention would be pulled from her and the mess she always made of the kitchen with her attempts to cook.
When the first shell hit, Pietro had watched as his parents fell through the huge hole it created, his hands covering his sister's eyes so that only he would be burdened with the image forever. And then came the second shell, with the name "STARK" plastered on it proudly, and they waited to die. He remembered his whole body shaking and Wanda crying for days before they got rescued, waiting to die by the hands of soldiers from the other side of the battle. When they had gotten out safely, the first thing he did was get the little plastic solider figurine he had hidden in his pocket and threw it at the rubble that had once been their home.
"You look upset," Pietro turned around to see that his siser, Wanda had entered his room. She was wearing a big "I love NY" shirt and black tights, hair pulled up in a ponytail. "I'm just saying, It's not a good look on you."
He raised a brow at her teasing smile. "You promised you wouldn't read my mind."
"I wasn't," Wanda denied with a shake oh her head. "I just know you too well."
They were silent for a few seconds before Peitro sighed and looked down at the floor guiltily. "I'm sorry, Wanda."
"Don't."
"No, really," he continued. "I should have died out there. If not for that girl you would have been left alone. It's the one thing I promised myself I wouldn't let happen."
The brunette approached him in slow, steady steps and nudged his shoulder. "I saw it. I read her mind and I saw what happened. It's a miracle, Pietro, but it's also fate, you see? You're still here and we're still together and that's what matters."
"Yes," he nodded. "We're on Tony Stark's side now."
His bitter tone didn't go amiss by his sister who had only frowned but didn't say anything. How ironic could the world be to put him on the same side as the man he had vowed to kill since he was ten years old? The man who took away almost everything from them?
"Things aren't always black and white, brother," She finally tells him with a small smile. "For now we're in this little gray area. For now we fight with the right side."
Pietro disagreed but chose not to say anything. Instead, he pats her shoulder and moved to leave. "I'm going to talk to the healer."
