It had, indeed, been a sucky time for the Maximoffs. Their father was dead, their lover was gone, and Pietro's daughter had disappeared into the ether. He hadn't really spoken about it much, but it all bothered him more than he cared to admit, even to himself. Around Wanda, he was better, but often he caught himself fighting bouts of melancholy and apathy. If it wasn't for Wanda, he probably would have run off and let himself waste.
Pietro leaned forward, as if he was going to walk toward her, but he stopped at her second sentence. It was because she was pregnant that he didn't surge forward, pick her up, and speed away with her before she could protest or be any more frustrating. Pietro knew better than most about Wanda's history with children. He wouldn't do anything to threaten the child growing inside her. If that meant having to be slow, he'd suffer through it and not complain.
"Oh don't be annoying," he grumbled. "I don't mind you coming with me."