Status: L O A D I N G . . .
T.A.H.I.T.I
Part Five
First P.O.V
I left Pietro alone in his room and went to my own just across the hall. I figured he would need some time to adjust and collect himself. He had a lot to work through and I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t sleep tonight, or if he slept heavily. He must be exhausted- then again he was dead for some odd months so he maybe well rested. I changed into my pajamas- ducky shorts and a blue tee- and climbed into bed. I sunk in the blankets slightly and sighed heavily as my eyes closed. I couldn’t help but run through the evening’s events and think about everything that had happened since the sun set. It was well past midnight now and I knew everyone was going to be exhausted in the morning but we had a lot to do. Dad probably wouldn’t be sleeping at all; I had a feeling he’d be in his lab trying to figure out what went wrong.
I hugged my pillow under my head and closed my eyes and before I knew it I was asleep.
The screeching of tires of wet pavement echoed in time with a wailing scream and flashing lights, a pain radiated through my body causing me to snap my eyes open with a jolt. I gasped softly and blinked the ache away as the scream faded from my head and the dream melted away into the stream of conscious thoughts now invading. Sunlight poured into my room overhead and I blinked before turning over in bed when I felt eyes on me, finding Pietro standing in my doorway chewing his thumb almost nervously.
“You were having a bad dream,” he told me around his finger, “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you.” I sat up as he spoke and slowly walked closer while I rubbed my tired eyes and tousled my brown hair that must have look a fright in the morning hours. Pietro’s didn’t look much better, it was cute though; curls sticking up at random angles and looking fluffy and ruffled. He studied me with blue eyes that were like the sea, deep and mysterious with a life just beneath the surface that only few could see. For someone who had been dead for almost six months he had a very lively gaze.
“It’s okay, it happens almost every night. Did you sleep?” I asked untangling myself from my cannula and adjusting it to fit more comfortably against my nose. Pietro watched me with a certain soft expression I couldn’t quite name- pity maybe or curiosity. He shook his head and dropped the hand he had been nibbling as he said,
“No, I was thinking.” I canted my head and patted the spot on my bed but he didn’t take it, instead he just looked at me.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“What makes you the authority on death? Why should I talk to you? Any of you?” Pietro asked watching me with a blank expression as I hugged my knees. I took a breath and looked up at my bedroom wall where pictures of me and my mother were spread out, her smile raining down from every angle. I wished I could have those memories of her. I wished I knew her voice and remembered her touch, but wishing never made anything other than wishers.
“When I was younger my mother and I were in a car accident, she died. Apparently I was right with her and saw her die, not to mention that for as long as I can remember I’ve been on Death’s Waiting List,” I said glancing at my oxygen tank and tugging it nearer the bed. Pietro looked too and then watched as I pulled my blankets off of my legs and stood, scratching a hand through my hair as I walked around around my bed towards where he stood.
“Maybe you know a thing or two then,” he admitted looking at me as I reached him. He looked me over and I noticed he was wearing the clothes I gave him the night before. He must have noticed my looking because he looked at his clothes and tugged at the shirt. “Is big but comfortable. Thank you.”
“We’ll find you clothes that fit today, if SHIELD knew you were going to be coming back they may have sent some clothes with you to Dad.”
“Did you know?” Pietro asked before I could leave my room and I paused in the doorway, turning around to face him as he stared at some fixed point in the floor again. He lifted his eyes to me and asked again, “Did you know about this? About me?”
“No,” I admitted, “I was told people who came here were injured in the line of duty but I had no idea my dad was bringing them back to life. I guess- I guess I never paid that close attention to what he was doing down there in his lab.” Pietro watched me with an unreadable expression. I wasn’t sure he entirely believed me, but he nodded after a brief moment and made a move to follow me downstairs. Pietro lifted my tank for me down the stairs and I thanked him awkwardly. No one had ever really touched my tank before. It was like holding my hand or something, something intimate and private but I didn’t want to make him feel bad or awkward about it so I didn’t say anything aside from my words of gratitude. Once we were downstairs, I took my tank from Pietro and made my way to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? We usually have French Toast,” I told him getting everything out and starting the coffee.
“What is French Toast? Is it different than toast?” Pietro asked as he sat on a bar stool on the other side of the island. I giggled and nodded my head as I turned to face him, leaning against the counter as I explained,
“It’s like a pancake toast. It’s battered and fried like a pancake, they’re really tasty. You eat em with powdered sugar and syrup, sometimes fruit and cream cheese.” Pietro licked his lips and nodded enthusiastically.
“Da! Da that sounds amazing.”
“Good morning my little biscuit,” Dad said coming in from the elevator and stifling a yawn. I watched him as he made his way to the coffee and poured himself a mug after kissing my head. “Mr Maximoff, did you get any rest?” Dad asked turning around to face our guest. Pietro glowered and just sat mutely on his stool, ignoring the question like a child. I rolled my eyes at his antics. He was perfectly pleasant a few seconds ago, but then again my dad was kind of the cause of all this so I couldn’t blame Pietro entirely for his mood towards my dad. If I had been brought back to like Frankenstein style I’d probably have a bone or two to pick with the scientist too. “Alright good talk,” Dad said looking between Pietro and I and turning on his heel to head back to the lab.
“Ten minutes!” I called after him and Dad waved over his shoulder.
“Ten, roger!”
“I mean it this time! Ten!”
“Read ya loud and clear buttercup, kisses,” Dad said blowing kisses as the elevator doors closed and left me, once again, alone with Pietro. The brunet looked at me and reached out to scratch a hand through his hair before looking at a curl he pulled straight.
“It used to be silver y’know.” I looked at him after turning the stove on and getting a frying pan ready for the French toast. “Now is brown again. Nothing about me is special anymore.”
I left Pietro alone in his room and went to my own just across the hall. I figured he would need some time to adjust and collect himself. He had a lot to work through and I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t sleep tonight, or if he slept heavily. He must be exhausted- then again he was dead for some odd months so he maybe well rested. I changed into my pajamas- ducky shorts and a blue tee- and climbed into bed. I sunk in the blankets slightly and sighed heavily as my eyes closed. I couldn’t help but run through the evening’s events and think about everything that had happened since the sun set. It was well past midnight now and I knew everyone was going to be exhausted in the morning but we had a lot to do. Dad probably wouldn’t be sleeping at all; I had a feeling he’d be in his lab trying to figure out what went wrong.
I hugged my pillow under my head and closed my eyes and before I knew it I was asleep.
The screeching of tires of wet pavement echoed in time with a wailing scream and flashing lights, a pain radiated through my body causing me to snap my eyes open with a jolt. I gasped softly and blinked the ache away as the scream faded from my head and the dream melted away into the stream of conscious thoughts now invading. Sunlight poured into my room overhead and I blinked before turning over in bed when I felt eyes on me, finding Pietro standing in my doorway chewing his thumb almost nervously.
“You were having a bad dream,” he told me around his finger, “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you.” I sat up as he spoke and slowly walked closer while I rubbed my tired eyes and tousled my brown hair that must have look a fright in the morning hours. Pietro’s didn’t look much better, it was cute though; curls sticking up at random angles and looking fluffy and ruffled. He studied me with blue eyes that were like the sea, deep and mysterious with a life just beneath the surface that only few could see. For someone who had been dead for almost six months he had a very lively gaze.
“It’s okay, it happens almost every night. Did you sleep?” I asked untangling myself from my cannula and adjusting it to fit more comfortably against my nose. Pietro watched me with a certain soft expression I couldn’t quite name- pity maybe or curiosity. He shook his head and dropped the hand he had been nibbling as he said,
“No, I was thinking.” I canted my head and patted the spot on my bed but he didn’t take it, instead he just looked at me.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“What makes you the authority on death? Why should I talk to you? Any of you?” Pietro asked watching me with a blank expression as I hugged my knees. I took a breath and looked up at my bedroom wall where pictures of me and my mother were spread out, her smile raining down from every angle. I wished I could have those memories of her. I wished I knew her voice and remembered her touch, but wishing never made anything other than wishers.
“When I was younger my mother and I were in a car accident, she died. Apparently I was right with her and saw her die, not to mention that for as long as I can remember I’ve been on Death’s Waiting List,” I said glancing at my oxygen tank and tugging it nearer the bed. Pietro looked too and then watched as I pulled my blankets off of my legs and stood, scratching a hand through my hair as I walked around around my bed towards where he stood.
“Maybe you know a thing or two then,” he admitted looking at me as I reached him. He looked me over and I noticed he was wearing the clothes I gave him the night before. He must have noticed my looking because he looked at his clothes and tugged at the shirt. “Is big but comfortable. Thank you.”
“We’ll find you clothes that fit today, if SHIELD knew you were going to be coming back they may have sent some clothes with you to Dad.”
“Did you know?” Pietro asked before I could leave my room and I paused in the doorway, turning around to face him as he stared at some fixed point in the floor again. He lifted his eyes to me and asked again, “Did you know about this? About me?”
“No,” I admitted, “I was told people who came here were injured in the line of duty but I had no idea my dad was bringing them back to life. I guess- I guess I never paid that close attention to what he was doing down there in his lab.” Pietro watched me with an unreadable expression. I wasn’t sure he entirely believed me, but he nodded after a brief moment and made a move to follow me downstairs. Pietro lifted my tank for me down the stairs and I thanked him awkwardly. No one had ever really touched my tank before. It was like holding my hand or something, something intimate and private but I didn’t want to make him feel bad or awkward about it so I didn’t say anything aside from my words of gratitude. Once we were downstairs, I took my tank from Pietro and made my way to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? We usually have French Toast,” I told him getting everything out and starting the coffee.
“What is French Toast? Is it different than toast?” Pietro asked as he sat on a bar stool on the other side of the island. I giggled and nodded my head as I turned to face him, leaning against the counter as I explained,
“It’s like a pancake toast. It’s battered and fried like a pancake, they’re really tasty. You eat em with powdered sugar and syrup, sometimes fruit and cream cheese.” Pietro licked his lips and nodded enthusiastically.
“Da! Da that sounds amazing.”
“Good morning my little biscuit,” Dad said coming in from the elevator and stifling a yawn. I watched him as he made his way to the coffee and poured himself a mug after kissing my head. “Mr Maximoff, did you get any rest?” Dad asked turning around to face our guest. Pietro glowered and just sat mutely on his stool, ignoring the question like a child. I rolled my eyes at his antics. He was perfectly pleasant a few seconds ago, but then again my dad was kind of the cause of all this so I couldn’t blame Pietro entirely for his mood towards my dad. If I had been brought back to like Frankenstein style I’d probably have a bone or two to pick with the scientist too. “Alright good talk,” Dad said looking between Pietro and I and turning on his heel to head back to the lab.
“Ten minutes!” I called after him and Dad waved over his shoulder.
“Ten, roger!”
“I mean it this time! Ten!”
“Read ya loud and clear buttercup, kisses,” Dad said blowing kisses as the elevator doors closed and left me, once again, alone with Pietro. The brunet looked at me and reached out to scratch a hand through his hair before looking at a curl he pulled straight.
“It used to be silver y’know.” I looked at him after turning the stove on and getting a frying pan ready for the French toast. “Now is brown again. Nothing about me is special anymore.”
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