[ 𝟐 ] 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 | 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

𝟎𝟎.

[ THIRD PERSON POV ]

[ NEW AVENGERS FACILITY, NEW YORK ]

"Stella?" A muffled voice started to pierce through the veil separating dreams from reality. "Stella? Time to wake up, dear."

Stella's eyes slowly fluttered open, meeting the harsh glare of the overhead lights in the medical room. She squinted and emitted a soft groan before discerning the blurry silhouette of a dark-haired woman. It wasn't until she rubbed her eyes and adjusted to wakefulness that she recognized Helen Cho, meticulously filling an orange bottle with small white pills.

"Good evening," Dr. Cho greeted. "When you're ready, you're free to leave."

"Wait ... Evening?" Stella questioned, beginning to sit up while using her arm to shield her eyes from the brightness.

"Don't worry. Everyone has been catching up on sleep since the Ultron incident. Well, everyone except Vision. I suppose he doesn't actually need to sleep."

Stella chuckled, anticipating some bodily discomfort but feeling surprisingly fine. "Who's still around? Last I remember, everyone was heading out."

"Wanda, Vision, Natasha, Steve, Rhodey, and Sam," she replied casually, then nodded toward the Cradle. "And Pietro, of course."

Stella's gaze followed Dr. Cho's, landing on the Cradle across the room. She could only discern the blurred outline behind the frosted glass from her vantage point. Slipping off the bed, she felt a chill as her bare feet met the floor. Tentatively, she approached the Cradle, a sense of trepidation gripping her. There lingered the fear of encountering Pietro's haunting gaze, a specter that haunted both her waking moments and nightmares.

With each step, her heart quickened, the Cradle looming larger. Its presence served as a poignant reminder of the events in Sokovia, where the fleeting joy of butterflies in her stomach was abruptly snatched away. It was a sensation she hadn't even had time to register before the harsh realities of pain and grief replaced it.

Reaching the Cradle, she placed a trembling hand on the cold glass, peering inside. The mist within swirled, yet Pietro's form was discernible. Alive. Most of his wounds had vanished, and the lingering ones rapidly faded. Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes stung as she desperately tried to overwrite the memory of his dying gaze with the living face before her.

Alive. Pietro is alive.

"I'll be heading out for the day," Dr. Cho interjected unintentionally, seizing her bags. Approaching Stella, she set the orange bottle of pills on the Cradle within reach of her trembling hand. "Take these if you require them. They're painkillers."

"Thank you once more, Dr. Cho," Stella smiled sincerely, attempting to conceal the slight quiver in her lip.

"No trouble at all, dear," Dr. Cho reciprocated the smile and then made her way to the door. Before exiting, she glanced back at the blonde. "I've been informed that Wanda is waiting for you in your room."