Piece By Piece

Part 1

Two months after Pietro's death.

All around me was the sound of chatting and laughter, except none of the laughter or chatter was directed towards me. I sit at the bar, alone, again. Tony had yet another charity gala event thingy tonight and as I expected, I am talking to nobody, laughing with nobody, and just drinking some fruity cocktail that I don't even like, all by myself. I sighed heavily, slowly sipping as the night wore on. As an Avenger, I was still expected to show up and look all pretty, whether the team wanted me there or not, so here I was, in a silky black dress that fell too far down in the back, exposing my skin. The strappy heels were uncomfortable to even sit in, and my long y/h/c locks settle on my exposed back, tickling the skin. All I wanted to do was lay in bed, in a hoodie four sizes too large with a bag of chips, and some old movies. I stared at the cherry stuck through on the straw and glared, zoning out into my own thoughts. Hours later, a voice broke through my thoughts.

"Come on Y/n, we're playing a drinking game," Sam called. I frowned. He must be way over the drinking line if he was talking to me, much less inviting me to hang out with the group. I tentatively headed to the seating area where the group was sitting, all with various drinks in hand. I took a seat on the floor by Clint and leaned my back on the wall, shivering as the cold wall touched my back.

"Truth or dare. Rules: You do the dare, or tell the truth, or you drink. Put your pansy little drinks down, we're doing shots," Natasha explained from her perch on the arm of the couch. A caterer brought over a large tray with nearly twenty shot glasses, and set them down on the glass table.

"Alright losers, let's get started. I'll go first." Tony said from his spot on the couch. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Thor." Thor let out a deep chuckle, and nodded.

"Dare, and don't go easy on me little man." Tony rolled his eyes at the description, and thought for a moment.

"I dare you to streak down the street carrying a speaker playing 'milkshake.' You also have to sing the song as you run." The group bursts out laughing, and Wanda squeals with glee when Thor nods. Tony gets a camera out as we all rush to the elevators. We split in half and meet at the main floor, where Thor is already undressing. I turn around to avert my eyes- not that he isn't good looking- he is. I'm just not comfortable seeing all that. Hoots and hollers are heard throughout the group, and I hear the large glass doors slide open and turn back around. At some point while I was turned around Tony had handed his a huge speaker, and had set up the music. Thor wandered out onto the street, buck-ass naked, pressed play, and began to sing and run. Tony recorded while the rest of us laughed. The night went on like this for a couple hours, all chaotic and fun. My sister even smiled at me. I longed to hug her, but as soon as the booze wore off I knew that she would go back to hating me. It was Wanda's turn and we were all around five or six shots in, when the fun abruptly came to an end.

"Y/n, truth or dare?" I blushed under the attention and decided to go with what i thought would be the safe route.

"Truth." Various sighs were heard around the group, and a couple mumbled "boring"'s were heard, but I ignored them and looked at my triplet. She slurred her words as she spoke, but her words were registered loud and clear.

"Did you, or did you not, watch as my brother sacrificed his life, and was killed, and did nothing to save him? Even though you could have used your abilities to protect Clint and the child, and my brother? Did you consciously let my brother die for no reason?" Her eyes burned holes through my head. My brother. Her words echoed painfully in my head, and heat built up behind my eyes.

"I didn't mean to," I whispered, my throat catching. "I couldn't move. I couldn't think." Wanda scoffed and glared at me.

"You are the reason he's dead. You basically killed him. Pietro's blood is on your hands. Don't forget." I stared at my strappy, achy shoes, feeling a hot tear drag down my pale cheek. Nobody spoke. I wished somebody would speak. Take the attention away. I wanted to curl up in a hole and die. I stood up abruptly, raised my chin, said a quiet 'goodnight,' and walked to the elevators. I walked in, not letting my chin fall, they could still see me. They were still watching me. As soon as the doors closed I let out a shaky sob, and sunk to my knees.

You basically killed him.

Hot tears stung my skin as they fell, one after another.

Pietro's blood is on your hands.

Her voice rang in my ears.

I'm the reason our brother is dead.

The word 'dead' echoed in my brain, forcing another sob to wrack my body. The elevator came to a stop and I stood up from my shaking crouch, and walked quickly to my room. I shut the door behind me harder than I meant to, and the slam shook my walls slightly. I walked to the bathroom and leaned the hands on the vanity counter. Mascara trails streaked down my cheeks, and my eyes were already red and on their way to swollen. I grabbed a makeup wipe from under the sink and hastily rid my face of the stuff, and tore off my dress. I kicked the uncomfortable heels off, and grabbed a hoodie I had thrown to the side earlier.

I curled in a ball on top my fluffy white duvet and cried myself to sleep. I knew Wanda blamed me for our brother's death- I blamed myself too- but I hadn't realized how deeply the hate and blame sat in her. I cried myself to sleep that night. That night, and every night for four months after.