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Blood-soaked shirt.
The first thing Pietro did when he returned to the healer's hospital room was throw his torn and bloody shirt on her bed. He was fortunate enough that she was awake, but still the pale girl painted a weird picture sitting on her bed unmoving and not so much as blinking, but just staring into space. The only thing that let him know she had acknowledged his presence was the milisecond glance she made to the clothing he tossed her, and if it weren't for his powers he wouldn't have noticed.
"Look at it," He told her, approaching and only stopping once his thighs were a good five inches from touching the bed. She looked at him then, not one emotion on her face before holding the item up.
It was the shirt he had worn to the batte in Sokovia, with multiple holes from the bullets and blood stains. The weird girl stared at it for a long time, tracing the edges of the ripped cloth and the splotches of blood before looking up at him in confusion.
"That's the shirt I wore when I got shot," Pietro informed her before throwing another item at her. "And that's the one you were wearing."
It was indeed the top she had been wearing that fateful day, with blood stains as well but no bullet holes. She laid both things side by side on the bed, the blood stains and bullet holes looking almost identical, and sighed in exhaustion. "I already knew it was possible. This just further proves it."
It was the first time Pietro's heard her speak since yesterday morning when they confronted her, and now she sounded weak and confused as opposed to the defensive tone she used with the others. It was a stark contrast that he couldn't help but take note of.
"Have you always been able to do this?" The white-haired boy asked, taking a careful seat by the foot of her bed.
She finally cracked a smile. "Believe it or not, I only discovered it the same day we met."
"Well, do you know how you were able to do it?"
"I have no idea. How'd you get so fast?"
Pietro shrugged nonchalantly. "A scientist offered to give me powers using an alien stone and I agreed."
"Well I can assure you that's not how I got mine," The healer chuckles. "I just know that I wasn't always like this. I get hurt, I get sick, I get wounded. I certainly didn't heal within five seconds after those things."
"It doesn't matter how you did it," He decided, shaking his head, standing up and taking the two articles of clothing from the bed and bunching them up together. "You saved my life. I owe you now. My sister and I, both."
When Pietro had woken up on the ship, hands still entangled with the dark-haired girl, he thought for sure he was dead. He remembered covering the little boy and Clint and getting shot, after all. But then Clint appeared in his line of vision, checking his pulse and trying to stop his bleeding when they both found out he wasn't technically bleeding anymore. He took his shirt off and, like he was never injured in the first place, his torso was free of open wounds and only had blood stains.
"I didn't do it so I could get something in return," The healer told him, playing with her fingers so that she wouldn't have to look at him. "I just...did it."
Pietro simply shook his head again and repeated his sentiments. "We owe you. I'll see you around, healer."
"Lorelei," It was when he was almost out of the door when she called out, making him turn back around to look at her. "My name's Lorelei."
Pietro raised his brows before smirking. "Alright, Lorelei. I'll see you around."
