Three Weeks In

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro took his sister's arm and moved it, a fraction of an inch lower. She pressed against a painful bruise, and he did not need the pressure there. So very slowly, he exited the elevator with her.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

"I'm so sorry, Pietro," she said, seeing his face and feeling him shift her arm lower. She must have hit something painful. They continued their walk, slow by her standards, sluggish by his. He would most likely need to remain in bed for at least a few days, if not more.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::They reached their dormitory and this time, Pietro opened the door and made his way over to his bed, still leaning on his sister. When she released him, he sat heavily, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

She immediately came next to him, kneeling beside the bed. "Lay back," she insisted softly.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro did not have much fight left in him, and he complied, laying back. His shirt was already open and he pulled it off so she could have a better view.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

She inspected his chest. It wasn't good. There were a bunch of different sized bruises decorated his chest, along with lots of scrapes and cuts; some of them had bled, which she'd noticed as some bled through onto his shirt. "Oh, Pietro," she whispered softly.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro followed her gaze to his own chest; it looked as bad as he expected, from the pain. He felt his own ribs, checking to see which ones had broken.:: "I hit an oak tree."

[Wanda Maximoff]

Her face looked pained, as she surveyed him with aching eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::At least two of his ribs were broken; Pietro could feel them beneath his fingers.:: "May I see my boots?"

[Wanda Maximoff]

She hesitated, before reaching to grab his boots, which she'd carried with her. The soles were completely burned through, and thus ruined. She handed them to him wordlessly.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro pushed himself into a sitting position so he could examine them. Holes, clear through the bottoms of both. They were beyond mending; he had ruined them. He had had these boots for years, had managed to keep them in decent condition. Unlike when he had been a child, and ruined shoes so often. Boots that could withstand his speed; they were expensive. Why did it happen, why did he destroy everything he touched?

It was too much, combined with the stress, the weariness, Magneto's presence, the constant losses. He could take no more and this last reminder of the uncontrollable liability he had once been pushed him over the edge. He shut his eyes, dropped the boots to the floor and turned onto his side, curling up as he did when they were younger. He pressed a fist to his mouth, in case any sounds might try to escape.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

It hurt so much, to see the pain in his eyes as he surveyed the damage done to his boots. And then, when she saw him break completely...she felt as if something inside her, too, broke. Tears leaked, slowly trailing down her cheeks as she shifted so that she too sat on his bed. She put a hand on his arm, and tried not to let her crying become audible, just as he put a fist to his mouth to keep from letting any sound out.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Feeling her hand upon his arm, Pietro's other hand covered hers. Wanda was right; this would kill him. Moments passed and he struggled to calm himself; no tears fell, not a single sound passed his lips, but it was a struggle. Finally, he spoke in a low, quiet voice, hard to make out around his fist. That he admitted it at all was a testament to how true it was.:: "Wanda, I'm tired."

[Wanda Maximoff]

She bit her lip for a moment, and then shifted, without having to remove her hand from his arm. She moved until her body was next to his. "Rest," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. Her hand was still on his arm, with his own hand covering hers. They had slept together like this when they were children, for comfort, and the feeling of protection. She would be here, be his protector.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro felt his sister shift on the bed, curling her body so she pressed up against him. He could not fall asleep yet, even with his Wanda's calming presence and soothing contact.:: "What about Hank?"