Pietro poured them both drinks when she’d brought over the glasses, though they lay forgotten at the moment once they sat and Wanda took his hand. A serious conversation then. A very serious one. Pietro wasn’t a fan of those; they’d had far too many in their lives, and the outcome never felt net positive. He still squeezed her fingers and tried to put aside too much judgement for now. There was a story for her to tell, and now was the time to pay attention and hear it.
But of all the things he expected to hear her say first, that was not one of them.
“What?” He stared, not entirely sure if she was joking. Should he have laughed? The look on her face was so serious when she didn’t need to look like that anymore. They were in a new country in a new world, and there was no experimenting on them anymore. There was no Ultron to fight against. There was no crumbling nation and flying island and terrified people…
Two years. He knew this world was strange, but he didn’t know being separated for that long in time was possible. He shook his head lightly. “I saw you… hours ago. We were fighting Ultron.” But his sister had mentioned she’d been here for weeks, and that didn’t make sense either. How had they been apart so long? Why hadn’t he been there for her all this time?
“I wouldn’t leave you alone for two years,” he insisted, heart pounding unnaturally fast. It felt as if he were running when he was just sitting in one place with her. But even before she kept going, Pietro lost his words as an idea clicked. The child he and Barton had saved – the bullets that struck him in the process. Of course he wasn’t made of armor. He was fast, but he was protecting them.
He was in Sokovia, and now he was here. He didn’t remember how.