Age of Darkness | Pietro Maximoff

Chapter Five: Museums Of Fear

Music is "Thanksgiving" by George Winston.

Picture is "Battle of New York".

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"We are all museums of fear."

-Charles Bukowski

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CHAPTER FIVE

When I found Pietro back on our floor of Stark tower, he was huddled into a corner with tears streaming down his face. His hands were shaking. Actually, I take that back. His entire being was shaking. Fear if the memories he's held back for so long has gripped him tight and is flinging him around like a rag doll. Fear takes delight in crushing the hearts of brave men. Even heroes can be frightened. Especially heroes.

I rush to his side, as I always do, but he rushes away from me to the other side of the room. "Pietro, honey, are you okay?"

Pietro rocks back and forth on his heels, grabbing his hair in his hands and tugging. His eyes are of a mad man. "N-No. No I am not. I am having t-trouble breathing, and my head feels as if it is going to implode. My hands are shaky, and I cannot shake the feeling of helplessness." He turns to look at me with pleading eyes. "I only felt like this when I was in Sokovia, orphaned and homeless, with Wanda."

I come to sit beside him, keeping a couple inches between us as to not set him off. "Let me help, baby."

"There is nothing you can do, nothing... Nothing you can do. I cannot..." He keeps mumbling those words over and over, beginning to rock back and forth again.

I've never seen Pietro so broken, so child-like. I never knew that his childhood still affected him so. Of course it still does. Traumatic events always leave their scars, as I know all too well, and something like this... I don't know if he'll ever fully be over it. I gently reach out and place my palm on his shoulder. "I'm here."

He looks over to me, and in a flash, has me in his arms and runs us to the bed before he completely breaks down and sobs against my neck. All I can do is hold him and whisper soothing things to him. I feel so helpless. I can't even keep myself from crying right along with him. "Make it go away," he whispers, holding me as tight as he possibly can. "The nightmares, the hauntings, make them go away." His breathing is off. "W-Wanda. Wanda."

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{Third Person P.O.V.}

Tony Stark shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The words that Glory and Pietro fired at him not a couple hours ago were not the first he'd heard regarding the announcement he made, and they certainly weren't the last. Between Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Carol Danvers, and many other Avengers' visits, Tony knew that it would only be a matter of time before Steve found his way towards the office.

It was precisely at eight o'clock that evening that the super soldier arrived to exchange words with the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Steve swore to himself, on Peggy Carter's grave, that he would uphold the righteous standards he died for. He would make sure that the unique people of the world were treated right, that their civil rights wouldn't be tainted by the fear of ordinary people in power. He thought that Tony Stark also believed this.

Even heroes can be lead astray.

"Tony, we need to talk," Steve says, nodding to Pepper as he passes her on her way out of the office where Mr. Stark had spent his day reacting to the differentiating press opinions.

"I figured you'd come around sooner or later, Steve," he replies. "Please, have a seat."

Steve stands strong and crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw locking in place in a grimace. "Tony, this isn't a friendly visit."