Pawns | Pietro Maximoff

Small Talk

  (Eloras POV)

It was over three hours before a guard finally ambled by. Despite the impulse to be returned to my cell, when I glanced back at Pietro's sleeping form, I decided on something different.

"Can you bring me a bucket of water, some rags, and bandages please? Oh! And two water bottles?" I asked.

The guard seemed shocked at my use of the word please. I suppose a HYDRA agent is not meant to be polite. The look of surprise fell from his face and was almost instantly replaced with a scowl as he stiffly nodded before walking away. 

I'm truly not sure I consider myself an agent of HYDRA yet. For one, it was difficult for me to believe that SHIELD was evil. Phil was always so kind to me and even Natasha, the famous assassin, was more than all that were here in HYDRA. For all I know, the deaths of my parents was an mere accident. My blind rage was what made me join, and lately it had been fading. After all these years, common sense began to return and plant doubts in my mind. Soon, I will get out of here. When I do, I will find answers myself. Perhaps I'll try getting information out of Phil. The main issue was, there was no direct evidence to prove who was to blame. The entire case left my head spinning wildly.

"Ms. Branton. I've returned. Will the Maximoff boy try to escape?"

"No you imbecile. He's asleep." I hissed.

Nodding sharply, the gaurd unlocked the door and entered with a bucket of water, two water bottles, bandages, and a few clean rags. I gave him a small smile as he rushed out of the cell once more. Of course, he did not acknowledge me. He simply walked away. Rude.

"Alright. Time to clean you up," I murmered, walking over to where Pietro slept.

Under normal circumstances, I would've poured water on him to wake him up. However, I did not want him to start freaking out and running again. Instead, I lightly shook his shoulder.

"Pietro. Wake up," I ordered.

The boy's eyes shot open and he leapt to his feet.

"Hey. Calm down. It's just me," I stated, holding my hands up in surrender.

The look of panic disappeared as he recognized me. 

"You're still here?" he questioned hoarsely.

I shrugged.

"Well I'm standing here aren't I?" I said.

He chuckled slightly before coughing. Sighing, I handed him one of the bottles of water.

"Thanks," he muttered, drinking a little more than half of it before setting it down.

"Alright. Your arms are a mess. I need to bandage them. Also, I need to clean the cut on your forehead so it doesn't get infected," I stated, grabbing a rag and dipping it in the bucket of water as I spoke.