Quiver | Pietro Maximoff ✔

Chapter Three

I didn't leave the small room I'd been given for days after the attack, as Bruce called it. It seemed safest for both me and the inhabitants of the Avengers facility, that I stayed locked away for a short period, so I couldn't harm them, or cause any damage. I spent the days curled up in bed, trying to push the seemingly constant headache away, as it pounded dully through my body.

My only recollection of the actual Hulk attack was an intense stabbing pain in my forehead, far more painful than any migraine I suffered from in the past.

My body, though, was restless from not being able to move further than the width of the room, and I was beginning to grow impatient. There was an itch to run around, and release the energy that was starting to build from all my sleeping.

After a good nights sleep, that lasted almost a full twelve hours, I finally felt well enough to venture past the locked door. I washed my hair and body thoroughly, feeling infinite times better after scrubbing the stale sweat from my skin, and rinsing a fresh, fruity smelling shampoo through my hair.

I found a hairdryer in one of the bathroom cabinets, and sat on the top of the bed covers to blast the heat through my knotted, damp curls. It felt almost luxurious, after a week of doing nothing but sleeping and eating.

I brushed my teeth three times before I felt like they were finally clean, and left the toothbrush balanced carefully in the holder left on the sink to be used again.

I'd been given a supply of clothes, mainly pyjamas and jogging bottoms, but they were so comfortable I didn't mind. I pulled a huge sweatshirt over my head, before searching for a pair of the soft jersey joggers. They were by no means formal, as they barely constituted casual wear, but they were better than the pyjamas I'd been wearing the last time I met a few of the Avengers.

Bruce stayed true to his word, and sat by my side most days to keep me entertained. I felt guilty from sleeping through a majority of his visits, but he would often speak of my recent lab results and his own tests, which meant he still allowed himself time away from me.

Peter and Pietro had also barged into my room, usually accompanied with a Stark-Pad so we could watch films. They were good company, and I was glad they were friendly as they were the only other people in the facility that were around my age. I warmed to them fairly quickly, learning that Peter was continuing his studies at a top level university, whilst Pietro was settling into life as an accompanying Avenger.

Captain America formally introduced himself as Steve, and was quick to explain he'd already seen me several times, though I was unconscious or suffering a Hulk attack. He spoke softly and kindly, and I felt an immediate instinct to trust him if I ever found myself in danger. I was grateful he'd taken time to visit me properly, as I heard from Pietro just how busy his schedule was.

Mr Stark also came to visit, complete with a huge list of possible nicknames for me. So far he'd referred to me as the Mega Hulk, Green Giant, and Her Royal Angriness. Admittedly, the last one made me laugh, much to Bruce's dissatisfaction, though he was glad I was smiling again.

He told me to call him Tony, though Sir and Mr Rich Man were also acceptable titles. I found his humour quite similar to my own, and I could see us getting along similar to how an uncle and niece might.

Once I was dressed, I sat back down on the end of the bed. I didn't have a need for the walking stick anymore, and so it sat abandoned by the door frame. "JARVIS, can you let Bruce know I'm up?"

"Of course, Miss Erudite." JARVIS was wonderful. I'd grown to like him, after our first few encounters, and spoke to him after the others left my room in the evenings. He projected films onto the wall opposite my bed when I was too tired to do anything else, and answered my questions about the facility with a comforting ease.