Word count: 2161

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Wanda was in the car again. It was one in the afternoon and she was leaning against the car door in the backseat, trembling softly. After what happened the night before, they had gone to the hospital immediately. Clint had called in Doctor Helen Cho, and she was baffled. She had actually taken a jet from New York to the hospital where Wanda was. Every single test they did came back negative. Something was incredibly wrong, but nobody had an explanation. Everything in her body was normal except for the lack of blood, since she was oddly missing exactly two pints.

She places an arm over her head, feeling a pounding headache begin along with incredible fatigue. She felt nauseous, but a different type of nauseous. She felt like she was dying, but not physically. Not to mention how sore she was... it was almost as if she had been exercising all night instead of getting tested for everything imaginable.

"Clint..." she murmurs. Clint looks over.

"Do you want me to pull over? Are you alright?" He was absolutely terrified. Helen was in the front seat, since she wanted to stay with Wanda to observe her.

"No... I just..." she pauses. "I'm scared..."

The words hit Clint like a truck. He had never heard her admit that before, and it kind of hurt. He reaches back to give her his hand.

"It'll be okay, okay?" He says. "You'll make it out of this. It'll get better."

She nods slowly, her lip quivering a little.

"What do you feel now?" Cho asks.

"I don't know..." she pauses for a moment. "I... I think I feel hungover? I've never been hungover before... but... this is what it's described as..."

Clint sighs, "You can stay in your room, okay? I'll close the blinds..."

Wanda nods. The car slowly parks as they reach the farm. Helen gets out first and Clint second. He opens the backseat and looks at Wanda.

"Sit up for a minute, okay? I'm gonna carry you to the house," Clint says before Steve Rogers runs out.

"Hey. I'll take her to her room," Steve says. "You go ahead and get her whatever she needs."

Clint sighs and looks at Wanda, "Which would you prefer?"

Wanda just gets out herself, despite the pain shooting through her muscles, "I'm sick, not injured. My legs still work, neither of you have to carry me."

She walks into the house, sighing with exasperated annoyance. They were treating her like she was incapable. She didn't like that. She winces from the light around her, since they just had to have all of the lights on, apparently. She goes to her room, going to the bed and sitting down. She then slowly lays down, the familiar feeling of dread rushing over her as she returns to the position she was in when this whole thing started.

Clint comes in and closes the blinds. Cho comes in after him, "Tell me again what's wrong right now. We can treat the symptoms for a bit until we can figure out the disease."

Disease. The word made her feel more sick, somehow. She was really sick. What if she died from whatever the hell was going on with her? At least she would get to be with her brother again, assuming they both go to the same place. He died a hero. Her? She was no hero. She didn't sacrifice herself for anyone. Pietro would be in Valhalla, right? Thor was real, wouldn't that afterlife be real too? Where would she go?

"I don't know... I have a headache... light and sound make it worse... I'm still nauseous, and... I'm just really sore, too," she says. Helen nods and walks off. Wanda looks at Clint, who was staring at her with pity in his eyes.

"I'll get you some water. Will that help?" He asks.

"I don't know," she answers truthfully. "I just think I should sleep..."

"Dr. Cho is getting you some things to make you feel better," he walks to her and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arm softly. "You can sleep after you take whatever she brings back."

Wanda just shifts a little, "You might want to get back... what if whatever I have is contagious?"

"The doctor said it's likely not," Clint says. Wanda shifts again before Doctor Cho comes back in, holding a mixture of pills and a drink.

"Aspirin for the soreness and headache, ginger ale for the nausea, and a couple vitamins just to be safe," she looks at Clint. "You also need a lot more in your medicine cabinet. You have almost nothing."

Clint nods. That made Wanda nervous. Usually, he would quip back with something defensive, but... he didn't. He was worried. Worried about her, no less. She slowly takes the aspirin and vitamins, then looking at Clint, whose dour expression remained.

She slowly lays down, "I'll feel better if I rest, right?"

"Yeah..." he walks over to her and kisses her forehead gently. "If you need anything at all, call on me. I'll bring you water or-"

"I got it," she says. "Thank you."

He nods slowly and starts leaving. Once he's gone, Helen looks at Wanda, "If more symptoms develop, no matter how minor they seem, come to me or call me."

Helen then just flashes a pitying smile at Wanda before leaving her alone in the dark. Wanda sighs and looks at the candle next to her bed, not bothering to light it.

"Do you know what's going on?" She asks quietly. "Because... I'm scared. I mean, the worst case scenario isn't death at this point, but... I don't like hurting. I probably deserve it after what happened to you... I could've stopped you. I could've saved you. I guess that wouldn't be too great either, since then Clint would've taken those..." the lump in her throat returns, choking her. "You're a hero. You were always my hero. Even when I teased you, I did nothing but respect you. You did nothing but protect me... I should have thanked you for that a long time ago. It's too late now, but... I want you to know it, okay? It still hurts a little, that you weren't here. I still have that old sweatshirt... the one I got you from Britain, the one I gave you on our birthday last year, with the little stripes on the side. It kinda hurts to see, but... it reminds me of you. I still can't stop thinking about-"

The door opens and Clint steps in, "Wanda? Who are you talking to?"

"I'm just... talking to myself," she lies, awkwardly sitting up.

"You can talk to me," he says. "I don't want things to get worse. Emotional pain is still pain."

"That's the last thing I want to hear right now, believe me..." she sighs. "Right now, I just want to be alone."

"You keep saying that."

"Yeah, I mean it."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Now, can I be alone please?"

Clint sighs again, "You can't stay in this stage of denial forever. Let us in and everything will be easier."

"I'm not in denial, Clint. And I don't need anyone to talk to."

"Four seconds?!" Pietro exclaims, panting a little.

"That's only 25 a second," Stella says, holding the monitor. "Cool down and stretch. That's the last one we have to do today."

"We?" Pietro nods and sits down on the bench. He was running laps to test his speed. He would run one hundred laps, stepping on a pedal in the middle of every lap so a machine could time him. He had slowed down by about half a second on his fourth time around, and he was mad about it. They were supposed to go see Wanda, but higher-ups had requested that they check his speed and endurance.

"You're still fast, okay?" Stella smiles friendlily at Pietro.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, drinking some water. He watches her write some things down on a piece of paper and Pietro watches, a new thought arising. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean?" She asks, a little confused.

"You're normal, right? You don't have super speed or... whatever my sister has, so... why are you here? To take notes? I know you have those sparks, but wouldn't that be smoke and mirrors? What could they do?" He asks. At that, Stella rolls her eyes.

"Listen. I was an experiment after you. I have my powers too," she says. "They're pretty weird, weirder than your sister's."

"Prove it," he leans against the wall behind the bench, reclining a little in the seat to watch. Stella rolls her eyes.

"Fine. But no questions about my powers because I have no idea how to answer them, okay?"

"No questions."

Stella nods. She briefly looks around before her eyes settle on the metal bench Pietro was resting on. Her skin quickly fades into a new color, silver and metallic, and she freezes up, not moving. Pietro watched, a little in awe. He stands up and walks around her, seeing that every inch of her body was covered in or transformed into the metal. After a few seconds, she stops and takes a deep breath, like she wasn't breathing during that time.

"Wow... that's amazing," he marvels.

"Yeah... I can copy properties of objects, animals and, sometimes, people. I also just gained the sparks thing you saw last night accidentally. You were right about that, that's just for show," she nervously rubs the back of her neck. "I'm glad you like it."

"You said you were an experiment? Why didn't I meet you before?" He still had an awed expression on his face as he gazed at her in wonder.

"I said no questions!"

"You said no questions about your powers."

Stella rolls her eyes.

"Fine. You've never met me before because I was still in the works when you were deployed to Sokovia," she says. Pietro nods and the girl walks over, sitting next to him on the bench. "I wish I had met you before, though. You can be really fun when you're sober, and you're twice that fun drunk. Plus, you took care of me the morning after."

"You mean this morning?" He rolls his eyes, though he started thinking about that night. He thought of how Stella had acted. He hadn't really thought about it, but it was worth thinking about. Stella was beautiful, and she was confident, but he hadn't even thought for a moment about her romantically. He never thought about "making out" with her. Should he have? Maybe he just saw too much of his sister in her to see her like that. Was it something else? Stella had asked if he was 'y'know'... but what does that mean? She didn't say it with stigma, but he had an odd feeling that she should have. What the hell was she talking about? Was it a bad thing?

As he digested these thoughts, his expression looked a little more pensive. Stella immediately took notice, "Hey, Piet?"

Pietro looks at her again. Of course she had to call him that. His mind was a tangled mess and he couldn't think of anything to respond with.

"Are you okay? What's on your mind?" Stella gently puts her hand in his.

"What do you remember from last night?" Pietro asks. "Do you remember what happened in the hotel room?"

"What? Wait, did we-"

"No, we didn't, but do you remember anything from then?"

"Um... no. All I remember is dancing some and getting crepes and coffee in the morning," she says. Pietro takes a deep breath. "Why?"

"You just... you said some things," he says. "I'm just thinking about what you said."

"What did I say?"

Pietro doesn't answer, knowing that he would either say the truth or a lie. He didn't know which was worse.

"You know what? Let's have a drink and a cigarette. We can talk about this after that," she says.

"I don't smoke anymore."

That was true. When he was on his bender phase when he was fifteen, he also started bumming cigarettes from his friends, who stole theirs from their parents.

"It'll calm you down," Stella says. Pietro gets mad and raises his voice.

"I said-"

"Then we won't smoke. Let's just get a drink to calm you down," she stands up but Pietro grabs her arm and makes her sit again, still angry and wanting answers. Stella just stares him, startled and a little bit frightened. His grip on her arm kind of hurt, since it was so tight. Pietro sees her scared expression and looks away, the guilt being enough to calm him down. He lets go of her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have grabbed you. Just... I don't want a drink. I want to know what's going on."

"You're the only one who knows what's going on, Pietro," Stella says. "That's all I know. I was drunk. You were not. I don't know what I said, but if it's this important to you, then you should think about it some more, okay? I'm gonna go. If you change your mind, I have something to calm you down. I'll see you."

Stella stands and walks off, leaving Pietro alone to think.