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You sat with your legs swinging over the edge of the examination table, eyes staring at the door that led to Pietro and Wanda. There were quiet murmurs coming from beyond it before but now there was silence. You’d gone in to check on them again with the water but Pietro was passed out and Wanda was too distracted to even notice you place the bottles beside her. Now you were just sitting there waiting for someone to come back and fill you in on what had happened.
Asking Friday had only satiated your curiosity so much. You’d learned everything that happened but it didn’t seem like enough; the robotic reports didn’t grasp the severity that the Avengers and all of Sokovia must have gone through. It didn’t seem real that all this had happened in a day, and everything before that within a week.
You sighed and swung your legs a little harder, clasping your hands in front of you and surveying the damage to the area. Glass and pieces of metal were still strewn about and the energy that was buzzing through you demanded you to do more than just sit. So you hopped off the table, found a broom and started sweeping. After moving all the debris to one area, or as much as you could get, you weren’t sure where to go from there. You’d already dragged a garbage bin from the closet but there was no dust pan. Without a second thought you formed a barrier around the glass, lifted it, and dropped it into the bin.
“I thought you were hurt,” a thick voice said. You whirled to find Pietro standing there, leaning against the wall, the door to the room next-door sliding shut.
“I-uh-you shouldn’t be up,” you stated. “You’re injured.”
“I would be dead without you.” He gave you a weak smile, arm pressed against his stomach. You stepped forward and set your hand on his shoulder, trying to turn him around and get him back into bed. He waved a hand at you then balanced himself by holding your arm. It was comforting to feel that same vibrating heat coming from him.
“I am fine,” he said, accent thick.
“You had like ten bullet holes in you,” you replied, looking at the small holes that still dotted his clothes. “Or at least I’m assuming they’re bullet holes…”
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “I saved a child and Barton. Impressed?”
“Uh, sure,” you said. “Where’s your sister?”
“Sleeping.” He held a finger to his lips. “Let her sleep. Please.” His eyelids lowered a fraction, reminding you that he was just as worried about her as she was about him. Caving, you nodded.
“At least sit down somewhere…else.” You looked around and found nothing but the hard metal table to rest on, so you began to walk him towards the elevator. He leaned on you the entire way, his weight heavy against your body. At some moments he would stumble and fall further into your arms, so you hauled his arm over your shoulder, wrapping your other arm around his waist. It was unbelievabley warm there—suffocating even, but you didn’t mind it. He smelled like dirt and sweat and blood, things you’d become very familiar with since joining the Avengers.
Once you got him into what you deemed the Party Room, after Tony’s lavish and way too early celebration at getting Loki’s sceptre back, you sat Pietro onto what was left of a couch after brushing the glass from it.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Vodka?” he suggested with a smile.
You frowned. “I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure after being shot you shouldn’t drink alcohol. Or be standing.”
“It is good thing you’re here then.” Before you could walk away and find something for him to drink he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you onto the couch. Your side ached with the jostled movement for a moment, making you wince. “See? You need rest.”
“I’m fine—or I was. Am. I don’t know; I heal fast I guess.” Pietro slid his fingers from your wrist and over your hand, keeping you in place with the gentlest of touches. There was a blush creeping across your cheeks and you hoped he would look away from you soon. When he kept those intense blue eyes on you you decided to look around the room, pretending to be interested in the mayhem Ultron had caused.
“I heal fast, too,” Pietro told you. “I do everything fast.”
Pietro’s hand slid from your hand and up your forearm, the back of his fingers barely touching you and making you shiver. His eyes finally moved from your face to where his fingers traced, drawing them up the rest of your arm to your shoulder, into the crook of your neck and then just before they could lace through your hair a voice interrupted.
“What’s going on here?” Tony asked. Pietro and you both flinched, but he didn’t move his hand away from you as quickly as he should. Instead you jumped up, looking to a freshly showered and bandaged Iron Man.
“What are you doing up?” you asked. “You need to rest.”
“I’m not the only one,” Tony said. His dark eyes narrowed on Pietro on the couch and you felt a strange sort of guilt in your stomach for being caught there. You shook it off, knowing you’d done nothing wrong but the accusation in Tony’s eyes made you wonder. You were grateful it was directed at Pietro and not you. Tony turned his attention to you, gaze softer. “Friday told me you and Speedy here were getting cozy.”
“We’ve been here for five minutes,” you said. “Not being cozy.” Although you knew what had just happened proved otherwise.
Tony stepped up the two stairs that led to the small sitting area and flipped a tablet over for you to view. On the screen was you helping Pietro into the elevator and then onto the couch. You shrugged. “Yeah, I helped him get here. So what?”
Tony pursed his lips and then looked at Pietro. “Think fast, buddy.” Tony waved two fingers in the air, signalling something. You realized it was Clint as an arrow show from somewhere overhead and into the cushion Pietro sat on, at least it shot into it after the silver blur moved out of the way and behind you. His brow was furrowed, and when you sent him a glare he shrugged with a wicked grin.
“You’re not hurt anymore,” you stated. What was with the fake limp then? Did he merely want your sympathy? You couldn’t figure it out.
“I told you, I heal fast,” he replied. You wanted to slap that smile off his face.
Clint jumped down from the second level, bow in hand. You thought he would be just as annoyed as Tony was, but there was actually a smile on his face. Any of that distrust you’d seen before they left was clearly gone, or at least most of it. Tony still kept a careful watch on Pietro.
When Tony’s eyes finally moved to you there was clear fatigue in them. You tilted your head towards him, wishing he would get more rest, although now that you thought about it you weren’t sure how long they’d left for. It felt like hours, but maybe it had only been minutes.
Tony looked at his tablet. “You’re giving off quite the readings. Both of you.” He looked between you and Pietro. “What did that little witch do?”
“Nothing,” you answered instantly.
Tony frowned and flipped the tablet over to show you spiking charts. Whatever they said you didn’t understand so he explained, “You’re normally here,” he pointed at the middle of the chart, “average person is here,” he pointed well below your quote unquote ‘normal’ point, “And right now you’re here.” He held his hand up and away from the tablet, arching his brows.
You had no way to react to that. Behind Tony the elevator doors opened and Wanda stepped in. Pietro sped over to her side as she slowly moved, holding onto her arms until she waved him off. “I amplified your power,” she told you. Her eyes didn’t even look to anyone other than you or Pietro.
“Figured,” you replied.
“What I want to know is when will it wear off?” Tony asked. “And what kind of side effects are there?”
Wanda looked down.
“You don’t know,” Clint said.
Wanda shook her head. “I have never met anyone with your kind of abilities.”
“You and me both,” you said with a chuckle. Pietro grinned at that but nobody laughed. “You can do more tests tomorrow after you’d slept for at least twelve hours.” You tried to punctuate your sentence with a piercing gaze but nobody was intimidated, least of all Tony.
“I’ll be fine,” you promised. And you truly believed it. After everything that had happened; the coma, the weakened powers, the shard that had stabbed you and then being left behind during the battle with Ultron. You felt a hundred times better than you had in the past few days. You shrugged and smiled at Tony as you walked past him. You gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, “Worst is over, right?”
Tony muttered, “Something like that.” His eyes fell on the tablet as you stepped into the elevator, and you knew he didn’t believe a word you’d just said.