When he’d found his sister, she was staring at the motionless body in front of her. Blood and brain matter had spilled out from his head, painting the dank dirty floor an interesting color of red and flesh.
She watched the body in wonderment, but he could see his sister also shaking with fear. She tilted her head, tearing her eyes away from the body and looking at her hands. Pietro placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she did not look back at him; it was if she were in a trance. She watched the red energy wafting from her fingers.
“It was a test,” she said simply. “He was a prisoner. They let him loose, making him believe he could escape. He ran into me.”
Pietro bit his lip and pulled his sister closer, even if she still remained frozen, staring at her hands, probably wondering if her red energy was too much like the color of blood.
He wasn’t surprised at the tests. They were getting more complex and deadlier for their foes. Wanda had ample time to test out her telekinetic powers, but her hypnosis powers were still unpredictable and unstable. Apparently, today with this man, she had been more than successful.
It was only a matter of time before Pietro had more difficult tests as well.
Finally, she turned toward her brother and he’d never seen such darkness in her eyes before, not even when they had felt the rage at the warzone in their home. “I killed him. I reached into his mind and convinced him his life would be better destroyed. He took the gun off his belt and shot himself with the gun in his mouth.” She furrowed her brow. “This power I have… it is…”
“Necessary,” her brother finished for her, and he brought her into a tight embrace. She clung to him, breathing heavily against his chest on the verge of a panic attack.
“Come, you should rest,” he said softly. She pulled away slightly and looked up into his face. He closed his eyes when she ran her delicate fingers - fingers that held so much raw power - through his hair.
“Pietro, please,” she begged. “Let me stay with you again tonight.”
He sighed, but he nodded. He wouldn’t deny her anything she asked. “They will not be happy.”
“I do not care,” she said, and she hugged him closer as he led her toward his bed.
That night Wanda cried silently as she held him, and Pietro could smell her tears. He stroked her hair, as he had when she was a child and they had huddled among rubble and debris as chaos boomed outside their shattering world.
Only this time they held each other in a warm bed, clinging to each other to keep both their demons at bay. Together, they were stronger at surviving the shadows and sins more than fighting alone.
Then, Wanda’s fingers began to travel around him, tracing lines over his body and reaching for warmth under his clothes. A pang of anxiety washed over him, but only for a moment, and then he fell into a comfortable lull as her touch deepened. Soon her hands were everywhere on him, as if she were trying to crawl under his skin and be as close to him as possible.
She shifted and he followed her move, and soon heat wrapped around them both. Wanda wanted to be close to him, inside him, on top of him, with her scent all around him. And in their joining he knew she found comfort. If they couldn’t return to the warmth of their mother’s womb, they might as well take this.
He exhaled heavily against her hair, and she trailed kisses down his neck. She moved to his side, her arm lazily falling over his chest. He wrapped them in the blankets, and soon a stark, tainted silence filled their small little room.
Pietro heard a bird outside singing, and before he fell asleep, he felt his sister grip his chest tightly, as if he would be pulled away from her at any moment, leaving her heartbreakingly alone.
But he was here, and he took her hand in his to reassure her, to quiet her fears and ease her pain from the day. He knew they would wake to another day, full of tests and challenges, but together they could get through it. Together they would avenge their home.
Together, they would also share their shame.