ᴡᴀɴᴅᴀ (scarletwitch) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2019-09-01 15:18:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | -complete, clint barton, pietro maximoff, wanda maximoff |
Who: Clint, Wanda, Pietro
What: Getting together for dinner
When: Recently
Where: 30 Warren
Rating: Green
Status: Complete
Pietro was alive. Clint didn’t know how or why. That kind of mystical magical bullshit was above his paygrade. Pietro was back from the dead. The universe in its infinite wisdom had seen fit to spit Pietro out alive and whole. He remembered the last time he’d seen the kid as they took his body off the helicarrier. And Clint had walked away and gone back home to his family. Now here was Pietro and Clint’s family, for some reason, were still missing in the multiverse. Clint fortified himself with a shot and who could blame him? He knew the way to Wanda’s apartment, making the brief walk with his hands shoved into pockets before rapping on her door. Things never seemed to slow down for Wanda or, at least, that’s what it felt like to her. She had settled into something vaguely resembling contentment and then Vision was suddenly ripped from this world, only for her brother to appear mere days later. It was wonderful, seeing Pietro again - she had never really gotten a chance to mourn him, and the hole in her heart that his loss created had never healed either. It never would, she knew that - but with Vision, it had begun to feel less like teeth and claws and more of simply a constant, dull ache. Now, without Vision, she was in her second trimester of pregnancy - with twins - and basically a blubbering mess of hormones. Luckily, she had a very good support system. And being near her (alive) brother again was monumental. She knew Pietro and Clint needed to talk, and she also knew that her good friend needed to not drink his dinner so she’d invited him over for some real food. A hearty stew, a recipe she remembered her mother teaching her a long time ago in Sokovia, mostly meat and potatoes but also spice and warmth - the salad she’d also prepared consisted of greens but also a lot of onions and radishes, because everyone could use more vegetables around here. “Pietro, can you get that?” she called - her hands were messy and it would take him literally .5 seconds to answer the door if he hadn’t already. Maybe Pietro could finally be the one to get through to Clint, when even Natasha seemed to not be able to. That was concerning, but if you asked Wanda, she believed his family was still out there - her and Stephen could find them, they really could, but apparently they weren’t supposed to mention that. Pietro, however, didn’t care about subtleties. For once, that might be a good thing. “Got it” Pietro called back already opening the door. He knew his presence was strange for those who had known him, especially hard for his sister having lost Vision so recently and then having her previously dead twin rock up but he couldn’t be sorry he was here. He didn’t regret saving Clint and the boy, Costel, but he was sad that his sacrifice had meant his sister had lost him in the process. Opening the door he smiled at Clint, “It is good to see you old man” he said, he had been looking forward to seeing Clint, they had not known each other long before but there had been a mutual kind of competition between them which, for Pietro at least, had masked a great deal of respect. When Wanda had told him about Clint’s family he’d been sad for him but would not let him give up, anything was possible. Wasn’t he proof of that? “Come in, Wanda is in the kitchen” Clint stared. Maybe he shouldn’t. But it was Pietro in front of him and not trapped in Clint’s memory in that moment before his face went whiter than his hair and he collapsed at Clint’s feet. “You too, punk. Welcome back.” Clint reached out and put a hand on his shoulder and then stepped inside. He followed his nose to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Wanda. “Hey, how you doing, Wanda?” Wanda turned when she heard Clint coming into the kitchen, her arms going around his neck as she bopped up on her toes a little to hug him in return. “I’m not fantastic but okay,” she assured, and she meant it for the most part - her body was just going through all sorts of crazy things, and she missed Vision fiercely, but she was taking care of herself for the sake of the twins, so. Overall, fine. She was sure people she saw daily, who were not her teammates or friends, were curious about the paternity of her babies but didn’t know how to explain it to everyone, nor did she really...have an obligation to? Like she told Tony, she didn’t care what people thought of her. ‘Slut’ was not the worst thing she could possibly be called. Anyway, she didn’t need to go into detail about her pregnancy emotions. “You are looking skinny,” she tapped Clint’s shoulder gently with her fist. “Good thing I made a lot of food. Pietro helped too, but mostly at taste-testing,” she grinned. “And...setting the table?” Well, he hadn’t yet, but that was kind of a way to ask if he’d go ahead and do it now. Following into the kitchen Pietro watched the interaction, while Wanda herself may not care what people thought of her he was not going to allow anybody to say anything about his twin. He would protect her fiercely, not that he needed to worry about that now. Clint was not the sort who would say anything against her, that much was very obvious. He chuckled a little at her observation, “Oh you are in trouble now, she will be making it a mission to feed you” he warned Clint, shooting his sister a cheeky grin before he took her hint and laid the table, “It is done” he said nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t only just done it. Clint cocked his head at the lilt of Pietro’s Sokovian accent. Wanda’s had faded to a subtle hint some time ago. “There are worse things. We look out for each other when we can.” Clint glanced at Pietro and then away, eyes downcast and mouth set. “She hasn’t been alone.” “No, I have not,” Wanda agreed, the expression on her face - in her eyes - softening from jovial to something more...concerned. She too tried to look out for Clint, especially in this universe with so many unanswered questions regarding his family’s whereabouts. It wasn’t like that with Vision. She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there was no finding him anywhere in between universes. He had been standing in this very kitchen many weeks ago making her tea, and now he was dead. Wanda could not bring him back. Not unless she wanted to break a lot of rules about life and death. She brought one of the serving dishes to the table, the big bowl of salad, before going back for the stew - she made sure to dish up a hearty portion for everyone. “Come eat, you two,” she encouraged. “Pietro can get drinks. Water,” she added to her brother, since that seemed to be the best thing in this scenario, for all of them. “I hope it all tastes okay. Though it’s probably not the same as when mamă made it.” “Nobody is alone, you have been there for Wanda and we are here for you” Pietro said patting Clint’s shoulder, he had noticed his sisters accent had lessened and he supposed his would too in time but for now it was as strong as ever. Nodding Pietro fetched the water with a jug and three glasses, “It will be perfect” he told her with confidence, ruffling her hair as he walked behind her chair to sit at the table. Clint had wanted to make it clear: Clint hadn't forgotten his debt to Pietro. He hadn't abandoned Wanda. She had support and friends and people who cared even if it wasn't the same as having her brother. He took a seat at the table. "Hey, I'm fine." There was a meme for this situation, how did it go? ‘Well, that was a big damn lie.’ No mind-reading executed to come to that conclusion either; at this point, Wanda was sure any idiot would be able to tell. “Are you really?” she asked rhetorically, taking her own seat at the table. She started with the salad first, taking bites here and there - the steam from the stew wafted up toward her nose, and she decided it smelled the same as when her and Pietro were younger. Sometimes she missed those days - one of her most prized possessions was the photo of her twin when he was a baby. Before he could actually talk - though after he was killed, she’d yearned for those snarky comments of his. “I told Pietro that Hawkeye was...not really a thing anymore,” she added, with a glance at her brother. “I do not think this is true” Pietro told him when Clint insisted he was okay, blowing on the stew to cool it before letting the flavours wash over his tastebuds, Wanda had definitely succeeded in making it how their mother had done when they were small. “You have lost hope I think, this is not good” Pietro told him straightforwardly, “I am proof that anything can happen, you cannot lose yourself to sadness. Your family would not want that I do not think.” And it wasn’t like Pietro was speaking out of turn, as hard as it was he was pleased to know Wanda had continued living her life when she had lost him. He would not have wanted her to remain sad and distraught. Clint stared down into his stew. Oh god, is this what it was going to be like with two of them? He reached out and sipped from his water glass, wishing for something stronger. “That’s not really the same,” he said flatly. Yes, Clint, this was exactly how it was going to be. The man was getting lovingly ganged up on by a brother-sister duo who cared about him very much. One had even died for him. “He is proof that anything can happen,” Wanda insisted. She had missed Pietro everyday, every second, from the moment she felt his death and lashed out at Ultron’s forces. As she sank to her knees in anguish, it was all frozen in time - not something she’d ever forget. And yet she didn’t begrudge him his choice. He died a hero. They both had messed up, wayward youth on the wrong path - maybe that was his way of atoning for his sins a little, and Wanda had continued to work to atone for hers. “Please - “ She looked at Clint, with emotion welling in big blue eyes. “Let me look for your family, with Stephen? It is about time you grasped onto a little hope.” It was something Clint had no chance of escaping from, both twins were determined to help him because the did truly care about him. Pietro had saved him so he could continue to do good, to be the man Pietro had seen and known. He knew Clint was still that person, even if he had gotten a little lost recently. “Let her help,” Pietro encouraged quietly, his usual teasing gone as he looked between his sister and Clint. “It won’t make a difference.” Clint shook his head. “Strange already has spells set up to look up for them. They’re set to go off if my family appear, It hasn’t happened,” “We haven’t added my powers to the mix yet,” Wanda pointed out. “I am the only one who has the telepathic skills to find them, Clint. That’s different than a locator spell.” She could do it, she knew she could. Stephen was a powerful sorcerer, but between the two of them - with Wanda contributing - that was a lot of oomph, and that box hadn’t been opened yet. She ripped apart a soft roll and nibbled on the pices, looking at Pietro pointedly - they were close to convincing this stubborn jackass (meant with love, really), she was sure. “Convince him more,” she suggested, with a quirk of a smile. “If he does not let me try, he is an idiot, right?” “The biggest of idiots” Pietro agreed with a nod, “You should know by now to do as she says, it is much easier that way. Eventually maybe you will learn this.” "Do what you want." Clint waved a hand. "It won't do anything. But do what you want." Wanda sighed. She pursed her lips, refraining from saying anything further - this wasn’t something she wanted to argue about, so, maybe it was best if she just left well enough alone. Being on the other end of the grieving spectrum (after she’d lost Pietro, and then Vision) she knew that humans - people - always wanted to help. To fix things. To make grief disappear. She understood that it wouldn’t, not in some specific amount of time you could fit into a box, like, ‘six months to a year.’ Still, her desire to help wasn’t to make grief disappear - she only wanted the best for someone she was close to. And if it was within her power to do, she’d do just about anything. But fine, pick your battles as they say. “Stubborn,” she said to Pietro in Sokovian, referring to Clint, then got up to refill their plates - her brother’s especially (he ate like he had a hollow leg) and to add a little more to Clint’s as well. He needed the nutrition. Then she sat back down. “Can I at least have you help with the nursery?” she asked. “Both of you - putting things together. Otherwise I will cheat and use my powers.” Pietro frowned slightly but followed his sisters lead and moved onto a different topic, smiling and nodding in agreement when she said Clint was stubborn. It stung a little to see Clint so insistent on thinking the worst and giving up, Wanda too had lost so much but she battled on. But then neither of the twins would have lasted long in Sokovia had they been the type to quit. “Of course, you know I will do whatever you need me to do,” Pietro replied easily, “You do not need to cheat.” He wanted her to rest and take things easy as much as possible, she had been through enough stress lately. “That’s not cheating, that’s smart,” Clint disagreed. “Anything you need, I’m here. You need me to put stuff together, fine - I’m not sure I’d trust that one.” Clint jerked his head at Pietro. “ANything else you need, you got it. Not just manual labor. If you need someone to go to appointments or answer questions, remember I’ve been through all this. Whatever you need. Just because Pietro’s here, you and me don’t change.” “I know,” Wanda smiled fondly. “My next ultrasound appointment, you can come with if you would like. Hopefully then I will find out the sex of the babies.” She would be around twenty weeks pregnant then, so, halfway through - time went so quickly, didn’t it? But this mom-to-be was eager to find out more about her twins. She didn’t want it to be a surprise (nor would she throw some silly gender reveal party, she never understood those) - it simply seemed to be easier to know the sex, so she could better plan how she wanted to set up the nursery. “Pietro and I will be moving into the Avengers tower soon. Then we can get started on putting things together, all of us.” She was glad that she had the support she did, otherwise she’d be a lot more depressed than she was. But it was okay. It would be okay. Somehow. |