[ 𝟐 ] 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 | 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

𝟎𝟑.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

I groaned as I silenced my alarm clock, its digital display showing "4:58 A.M." just in the nick of time. Shifting onto my back, I rubbed my eyes, waiting for the fog of sleep to dissipate before rising. Nightmares plagued my mind throughout the night, envisioning the potential challenges awaiting me in the confrontation with Claus. One scenario featured me attempting to engage him in combat, only to find my punches feeble. Another depicted me imprisoned in one of HYDRA's cells, beyond the reach of the Avengers. The most unsettling nightmare had me battling Claus only to realize I had left my pants behind in New York—most heroes can fight in their underwear, but not me.

Suppressing thoughts of other nightmares involving Pietro's vulnerability, I finally summoned the will to get up and prepare for the day ahead. I combed my hair, washed my face, and brushed my teeth—the customary ritual for anyone gearing up for a typical day. Yet, today promised to be anything but ordinary. By day's end, I would have confronted the man responsible for my parents' death. I was about to face the very person who had taken away my family. It was an undeniable reality.

Inhaling deeply, I compelled the rising tide of anxiety to pause momentarily, allowing me to proceed with my preparations. As I swung open my closet door, my gaze fell upon the suit I had worn in the Sokovia battle. It appeared just as pristine as it did the first time I donned it. I assumed Tony must have arranged for a replacement, a logical choice given the scratches, rips, and bullet holes my previous suit had accumulated.

Like my previous attire, I opted for a black leather tank top bearing the Stark logo on the left side of my chest, paired with black pants and black boots adorned with pink laces. I armed myself with two pistols and electric brass knuckles. Considering the nature of my upcoming encounter, I decided to carry fewer weapons this time, reasoning that dealing with a HYDRA adversary would be more straightforward than facing an army of robots.

⋯

Natasha awaited me at the door leading to the field, where a sleeker and enhanced Quinjet was being readied for my impending and anxiety-inducing venture. Approaching her, I realized the universe wasn't affording me much time to process recent events. From my escape from HYDRA to joining the Avengers in the battle against Ultron, reliving the trauma through nightmares, and witnessing Pietro's near-death experience—everything had unfolded rapidly. And now, the imminent confrontation with the man who killed my parents loomed. While I harbored no blame, acknowledging it as one of the costs of being an Avenger, I couldn't help but wish for a moment to step back and heal.

"You ready?" inquired Natasha, reassuringly smiling, crossing her arms.

"I suppose so," I sighed, reciprocating her smile. "Turning down this opportunity would haunt me forever. I don't need more ghosts, especially when preventing other children from enduring what I did will help me sleep better."

Natasha nodded, glancing out the window toward the jet. "Remember, Wanda, Sam, Pietro, and a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be with you. You'll have constant backup if things take a turn for the worse. Keep in mind anything can happen. Stay focused and trust your instincts."