002 - Memory Share

[minus1twin]

The scene that began to play was an innocent one.

A family sat around a small table in a small one room apartment. They aren't rich by any standards but they were happy. Two children sat at the table, twins, laughing and eating as they told their mother and father the story of their adventures that day. The boys arms were up in the air as if to indicate that it was 'this big!' while the young girl giggled at the exaggeration.

The point of view flickers between the girl and the boy as if unable to make up its mind on who to watch. Static echoes gently as a soft whistling sound begins to rise above the laughter.

That's when the first shell hits.

A loud bang reverberates through the building as the floor beneath their table quickly cracks. Screams could be heard as the table tilts, the floor quickly falling, disappearing in a cloud of rumble. The scene is now from the little girl's point of view. She's reaching out towards her mother and screaming, nearly falling into the large whole in the floor in the process. There is a hard tug on her waist as her brother picks her up but she doesn’t notice. She just watches as her parents disappear into the hole.

The view point switches again, now looking out from the boys eyes as he rolls him and his sister beneath the bed. The entire building is coming apart and you can feel it beneath your palms and knees, hear your sister's cries, "MAMA! PAPA!" You hold her tight and hold back the tears stinging your eyes. For a half second the echoes of the falling building seem to settle. You wonder if it's over. If your parents are somehow alive.

That's when the second shell hits.

It slides through their home and stops three feet from their faces. The crying has stopped but voices rise in the distance as people begin to search for those who haven’t died. The bed is covered in debris. There is no way out and the air is choked with dust.

You both lay there. Ten years old. Reading the one name that haunts your nightmares for years to come, 'STARK' painted in large letters on the side of the shell. You both call out and there is a rise of voices speaking in another language trying to find you. The rumble shifts and the little girl curls beneath her brother's arm as the shell remains in view. Another shift of rumble and another. Each one sending trickles of dust and cinder down on top of you.

You know that it will take time to clear away the rumble and at any moment the shell can go off.

The views switch again and you hear your brother's voice speak gently in your ear. The words are in another language but the meaning is clear. "I'm here."

Comments

un: walkeditoff

[soundspeed]

[it’s one thing to talk about what happened - pietro hadn’t hesitated to recount this story to ultron as an explanation for why he wanted tony stark dead, why he didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to spend any more time on toying with him and the other avengers instead of simply destroying them. but it’s another thing to see it happen all over again, to see through his sister’s eyes, to relive the fear and the grief for their parents that he’s never fully processed. and it’s even worse to know that everyone else in this place can watch the worst day of pietro’s life, on display like some american film spectacle.

wanda is older than pietro. she’s had years to make her peace with stark, work with the avengers, let her anger fade. pietro isn’t as forgiving. his voice is taut, smoldering with barely contained rage and sorrow and pain.]

It won’t help.

[alcohol does nothing for him, thank you speedster metabolism. well-meaning words and wishes don’t soften the pain of loss.]

[doubled_speed]

Yeah, the downside of our damn metabolisms. If I had something Asgardian I could at least get us buzzed. But I guess that's something we have to live with.

[See, there's some complication there, right? Has to be, because that is what their family is.]

Not going to offer to talk. That so isn't us. But seriously, I could see about maybe teaching you how to blow things up with your speed. See if you can do that.

[soundspeed]

I don't want to blow anything up.

[he's had enough of things blowing up, as this memory has shown. and hey, trauma flashbacks might be a thing.]

[doubled_speed]

Okay. It's just another possible aspect of your powers. How about going through things? I feel like doors can be a pain, and walls.

[Little sense of privacy? Him? Nah.]

[soundspeed]

[there's probably a lot pietro doesn't know about the full extent of his powers - he's fairly new to them still, hasn't had them as long as tommy has, because he's not a mutant and didn't come by his super speed naturally the way tommy and other mutants typically do. he and wanda are experiments, created by the stone in loki's scepter, and none of this matters at the moment, because pietro can't use his powers to get the revenge on tony stark that he's sought for more than half of his life.]

Didn't you say you weren't going to talk? And here you are, still talking.

[his words are spit sharply, and some part of pietro knows tommy is just trying to help, because he accepts wanda and pietro as his family and that's what family does, but pietro is too immersed in repressed anger and pain to care at the moment.]

[doubled_speed]

There's a difference between being mute and not talking about all that stuff. But you're right. No point wasting breath on this or you.

[He's used to not being wanted anyway. Especially used to not being wanted by people he could theoretically claim as family. So he doesn't bother to try any further.]

I'm off to get Mom ice cream. Just tell me what her favorite flavor is.

[soundspeed]

Ask her yourself.

[doubled_speed]

Somehow I didn't think someone could be a bigger asshole than the Pietro Maximoff in my world can pull off, but damn, gonna have to make you a trophy.

[And with that he just disconnects the contact. Seriously, fuck this guy. Can't even be bothered to share ice cream flavors.]