"Is she ok?" I hear faint whispering overhead.

"Yeah, she'll be fine." The second voice responds, this one considerably gruffer than the first. Probably Carter.

"Are you sure?" The first voice asks again, sounding concerned but also amused.

"She normally sleeps like that." There's a chuckle from Carter.

"But with broken ribs?" The first voice, I think it's Charles, asks in amazement.

"I give her a tonic for pain before she goes to sleep, so I doubt she really feels it. She is stiff for about an hour or two after she wakes up though." I hear shuffling, footsteps, moving away from me. I groggily stir and let my head roll to the side before unfurling from being curled up like a human ball. I sleepily yawn and allow my eyes to flutter open.

"Is breakfast ready?"

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"Aww!" A feminine voice coos softly. I have to keep myself from jolting awake due to the soft, but startling voice hovering over me. I highly doubt the voice belongs to Romanoff.

"Shh! You're gonna wake her!" A grumbly voice shushes. 

Is that Tony?

"Would you two just shut up and take the picture?" Sokovian accent, masculine--Pietro. 

What is he up to now?

"I'm trying!" 

Tony. Totally sure now.

"Well try faster, she's stirring!" That feminine voice again. Probably Wanda. I groggily mutter curses at the people who woke me and proceed to screw my eyes shut while curling up to the source of heat that I'm up against.

Wait a heckin' second.

I crack open one eye, followed by the other, surprised by what I find. "I was going to make breakfast, but I didn't want to move." Pietro is looking down at me. Pietro Maximoff. Is looking down. At me. Pietro Maximoff.

"And by make breakfast you mean burn down the facility in an attempt to make food that we both know you have no idea how to make and cause a panic?" I ask, still staring up at him. His lips twitch before finally turning into a smile.

"Yeah, something like that." I lift my head, surprised to find out that Pietro Maximoff has just agreed with me. Pietro Maximoff. Agreed with me. Dang Winchesters at it again with the Apocalypse.

"Am I dead?" Then I turn my head, surprised to find that I had at some point fallen asleep while watching The Return of the King. My legs are stretched out across the couch and I'm curled up to Pietro's side. Oh, and to make things worse, Tony and Wanda now have pictures of it. They're laughing while scrolling through what I'm sure are tons of photos on their phones. "It would probably be better if I were dead." I grumble before giving into the yawn that had been forming for the past few seconds. I begin to pull away from Pietro, who is laughing like an idiot, when I stop suddenly, my face twisting in pain.

"Iris? Are you okay?" I feel Pietro jerk upright instead of slouching in the corner of the couch as he holds out his hand toward me. Tony and Wanda have stopped laughing as they look down at me apprehensively.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sleeping in odd positions must have really cramped my back muscles. Maybe a pinched nerve, I'll be fine. Just gotta walk it off." I wave off their concern. "So, what about breakfast now?" I kick my legs off the couch, placing my feet on the cold floor before shrugging the blanket off onto the couch. Pietro is already up and offering me a hand.

"I'm sure we can figure out how to cook some food, don't you?" Pietro questions with a grin. I laugh and shake my head while taking his hand, allowing him to pull me up.

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask Pepper for some help." I tilt my head side to side, cracking my neck, before walking with Pietro to the kitchen.

"Nonsense."

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"Pietro! Grab the fire extinguisher!." I shout, pulling the pan of what once was scrambled eggs off the stove and hold it over the sink. There's a quick swoosh before Pietro is back with a fire extinguisher.

"How do you work one of these things!?" He freaks out while fumbling with it.

"I don't know! I thought you would!" I yell before jerking my face away from the pan when the flames engulfing the eggs rise suddenly, causing me to scream. Gordon Ramsay would be ashamed at our cooking skills.

"Just put some water in it!" He yells, still trying to figure out the fire extinguisher.

"No! Carter told me that's what you DON'T do." I wheeze around the smoke and almost drop the pan when another section of eggs erupt in flames.

"Why not?! It's fire! Water puts out a fire, right?" He hollers and looks ready to smash the fire extinguisher.

"Hollywood is a lie!" That's when Clint and Steve walk into the room with eyes wider than the moon. Clint automatically starts laughing like this is the funniest thing he's seen in his entire life while Steve rushes over to our aid. He takes the fire extinguisher from Pietro before aiming it at the pan and setting it off. There's a white layer of CO2 now covering the pan, sink, and counter.

"We should have called Pepper." Pietro looks at me with wide eyes.

"We should have called Pepper." I repeat back to him, not taking my eyes off the pan.

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"You did WHAT?" Tony shouts and then Clint is laughing again. Steve shoots birdman a scowl but it doesn't affect Barton in the slightest. Cap then drops his face and rubs it with one of his hands, sighing and muttering about how he's 'surrounded by idiots.'

"We set a pan of eggs on fire because we both suck at cooking?" My response is more like a question than a statement as I sideways glance at Pietro. He turns his head and grins at me, not even phased by Tony.

"How could you manage to set eggs on fire?" He asks while the two of us follow him back to the northern section of the floor where we had been earlier. I rub my neck and chuckle.

"I might have accidentally grabbed the sugar instead of the salt and I think that made it erupt in flames? I really don't know." I casually leave out the part where I wasn't actually watching the food because Pietro and I had been goofing off and fighting like an old married couple. Yeah...good times.

"How could you have grabbed the sugar instead of the salt?!" He asks, absolutely confused with our stupidity, well, my stupidity.

"Maybe because I was too occupied with sassing him." I point at Pietro and he smacks my hand down, causing me to grin.

"I guess that's a totally legitimate reason then." Tony huffs and I smirk sideways at the Maximoff twin.

"I told you." I beam. Pietro grumbles at me before forking over five dollars from his pocket. I quickly shove the bill into my back pocket.

"Holy crap. Pepper is gonna be pissed." The three of us stand looking at the messy kitchen with a half burnt pan with eggs and a thick layer of white foam in the pan and on the counter.

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Not long after the fiasco in the kitchen, I find myself in the basement level of the compound with the rest of the team. Doing you guessed it...training. I'm not completely sure how long we've been working or what time it is now, but it's been long enough that I've circled around working with each member of my team. Except for Tony, who's just been tinkering while keeping an eye on us. 

"Hands up, Iris." I sigh dramatically.

"Steve, c'mon. We're been doing this for an hour and there's no way I'm fast enough nor strong enough to punch you." I see the tiniest of smiles light up his face.

"Iris, you managed to land a few blows on Natasha not but two hours ago. You are fully capable of hitting me." I glare at him with hunched shoulders before standing fully upright. He's right. Natasha and I may have a similar fighting style possibly thanks to our Russian heritage, but Steve is a larger more bulky target. I'm much smaller in stature and size, not to mention a bit quicker on my feet than them. I should be able to do this, right? 

"Alright, alright." I lift my hands after closing them into fists before the two of us begin to circle on the training mats. Steve quickly lunges forward, swinging with his right fist just as I duck to the side and wrap my arm around his outstretched one. I swivel on my heel and force my back into his chest before I bend over at the waist and try to pull Steve over my shoulder. But I quickly find he weighs a freaking ton. Instead, I quickly find myself in a headlock with one hand grasping at Steve's wrist and the other trapped against my side. 

I...remember this.

My knees grow slightly weak before I steel my nerves. I lift one foot off the mat and bring my heel into Steve's toes, causing his grip to falter only momentarily. It's just enough time for me to free my arm before bringing my elbow into his gut harshly. I feel him cave into the pressure before I throw my head back. Rogers' grip disappears and I spin on my heel before forcing a burst of energy to knock him back. My hands shake without control as a look of panic crosses my face. Even while holding his nose, thankfully unbroken, he looks at me with concern. "Iris?" I know the rules of training included no using abilities, and I know that Steve knows I know this. 

"I'm...I'm sorry." I look at my hands frightfully before running them through my hair. A shaky exhale escapes me as I scowl to myself. I turn and fight the urge to punt the water bottle sitting at the edge of the ring across the room. 

"I've seen that look before. What happened?" Steve drops his hand and approached me cautiously. 

"The headlock...it triggered a memory during my time in HYDRA. During a near fight to the death." I glare at the floor, determined not to let Steve see how rattled I've become. "It was against the Winter Soldier." I shut my eyes and breathe deeply. I hear Steve stop abruptly. I finally turn to look him in the eyes sadly. "He nearly beat me to death. I still don't know why he didn't. The following week I was moved to Phase 3, which is when I got my abilities." I try to fight the haunting memories that threaten to surface. "I know he's your best friend Steve, and I don't blame him. It's just the memory that haunts me...being so close to death." 

"It's alright." He looks around the room at the rest of the team who are still training. "Okay guys, let's call it a day!" The Cap calls out, much to everybody's relief. "I'm here if you ever need to talk about it. About anything." He tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I smile at him gratefully. 

"Thanks, Steve." 

"No problem." He lingers another moment before he leaves my side and intersects Sam Wilson. The two of them begin to discuss in hushed tones as they begin to exit the basement. I'm about to follow everybody else out when Pietro saunters up to me with a grin. I offer him a nod in greeting.

"Hey, Speedy. What's up?" I sit down on the edge of the mats and begin to unwrap my hands. Pietro plops down next to me. Oh, the sight we are. Hair disheveled, sweat beading on our foreheads and drenching our clothing, and not to mention the deep breathing. It's certainly been a long day.

"So, I was thinking about that date..." He grins sideways at me. I chuckle. 

"While we were training?" Pietro shakes his head.

"Well, no. I was talking with Wanda--" 

"You mean you were asking Wanda for suggestions." I correct with a short laugh. Pietro feigns shock as he places a hand over his chest.

"...yeah." He finally admits before laughing along with me.

"Alright, how about this--" I toss the wraps to the side.

"No, no no no. It's not romantic if it's not a surprise." He shushes me.

"Ooooh, romantic? Are we on that level yet, Maximoff?" I tease before picking up my water bottle and taking a swig.

"I-I mean, if you don't want it--" I hold up my index finger to stop him.

"Pietro, dude, I'm joking. I'll be pleased to go on a date with you, even if its romantic." I tell him sincerely. He beams at me.

"Well, in that case...how do you feel about going for lunch and a stroll in the park?" I narrow one of my eyes at him.

"Do I have to dress up?"

"Not if you don't want to. It can be casual."

"Alright. You had me at lunch. When should we do it?"

"How about tomorrow?"

"Sounds like a plan."