A/N: this one was actually really really fun to write! Btw, I know my uploading is pretty sporadic, but I try to upload the same day I start the chapter after the next chapter (i.e. I just finished writing chapter 5). Also... yay! We're finally getting Pietro and Stella in here! People who read through the first attempt at this... I'm changing her quite a bit.

Word Count: 2945

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"When will he wake up?" Her squeaky, semi-annoying voice asks. "Didn't it work?"

    "Stella, it worked. Now shut up. When he wakes up, the last thing he'll want to hear is your damn voice. Plus, he'll be a little loopy, so your voice is gonna freak him out," one of the six doctors or surgeons or whatever snaps. She rolls her eyes. She had worked her ass off to get the damn speedster's body. This is how they reward her? "He'll be awake soon. Stella, accommodate him as he requests and make sure he understands what I explained to you. If you need us, you know where to find us."

    She stalks around the body as the doctor leaves. He was pretty attractive, but the pallor of his skin made him look disgusting the first time she saw him, but since blood transfusions and a lot of other medical or magical mumbo-jumbo that Stella didn't understand, his skin had gained some color and warmth. Everything was much better after some sorcerer or something bound him to his sister. Plus, he had a pulse after the miracle transfusion. Who knew it only took two pints of blood, a sorcerer and six doctors to bring someone back?

    She continued studying his features for quite a couple minutes until he shot up at an impossible speed. The white-haired boy looks around.

    "Neredeyim? Kimsin? Bu nedir?" He asks, oddly calm but with a trembling voice. He looks at Stella and says in a louder, more desperate tone: "Neredeyim?!"

    "Pietro Maximoff," Stella says with a soft grin. "It worked."

    "Who are you?" Pietro asks, speaking English after, to Stella, far too long. His voice sounded more afraid in English, and his hands were trembling a little bit.

    "My name is Stella and I am at your service," she bows, extending a hand to the man sitting on the metal table.

    "And why am I here? Where is here?" He asks, not taking her hand and slowly getting off of the table himself.

    "Well, we can discuss your role here soon. Welcome home, Mr. Maximoff."

    Pietro visibly cringed.

    "Don't call me Mr... it makes me sound like some kind of... I don't know... I just don't like it..."

    "Well, you're a bit of a big deal around here," Stella grins. Pietro looks at her, confused.

    "You still haven't said where we are. Why did you say 'welcome home'? Are we in Sokovia?" He asks. As soon as he uttered his native country's title, memories flooded onto him in shards. A young boy, a floating city, bullets piercing his skin one at a time. He only could think to himself for a split second before the memory of her scream came to his ears, and the words practically forced themselves through his lips. "Where is my sister?"

    He felt guilty for not thinking of her before. Does she know he's okay? Thoughts of her occupied his mind. What if she had been hurt too? Or worse?

    "She's at a farm," Stella replies simply. "Avengers bonding time or something."

    "Are you with them?" Pietro asks. "The Avengers?"

    "Me? Hell no. They ruined my life. I'm not with them. I don't deal with those people," she says. Pietro could hear from her tone of voice that she was close to a rant. "The Avengers can suck a dick. Every last o-"

    "My sister's part of the Avengers, so watch it."

    "No, she's not. She's a hostage to the Avengers," Stella argues. Pietro's angry expression dissolves.

    "What are you talking about?" He looked worried.

    "Sorry, bud. She's a happy hostage, but I bet you everything that she's not allowed to go anywhere alone," she says. She sees his expression go to pure worry and she thinks for a minute. "You know what? Let's get drinks. There's a bar near here. It'll lift your spirits, bud." She paused. "Haha... spirits... like the type of booze..."

    Pietro does smile softly at the request, but not because he planned to have much fun. He wanted to get Stella drunk and get answers from her, "Alright. We'll get drinks. They're on you, though."

    Stella just shakes her head, "We'll see."

    She extends a hand to Pietro and he takes it, only then noticing his attire when he saw the sleeve of his shirt. It was quite simple, really, just some plain black pants, a pale blue t-shirt and a black jacket over it. It did, however, prompt him to ask, "Who dressed me...?"

    "Sure as hell wasn't SHIELD," Stella says under her breath. This draws a confused and slightly protesting look from Pietro before she says. "What?"

    "Did you...?"

    Stella just groans, "I only peeked. I wasn't interested, just a little curious. Don't make a big deal about it. Now c'mon. I thought you were supposed to be fast. They'll be closed by the time we even reach the bar at this pace."

    Before she even knew what happened, he had lifted her into his arms and they were traveling at the speed of sound. He stopped abruptly and set her down, causing Stella to have to take a moment to find her balance.

    "Jesus Christ..." she mutters.

    "Is this the bar?" He looked kind of excited.

    "Yeah... why are you grinning like that?" Stella asks the speedster. "You've been to a bar before, right?"

    "Wanda didn't let me drink. It scared her when I had a root beer when we were younger," he replies. This was true, but not why he was excited. "I didn't let her drink either... it was mutual, but I did go through a short series of benders when I was fifteen."

    "Alrighty then," Stella says. She leads him inside and sits at the bar with him. "Get whatever you want."

    "Shots?"

    "You really are a teenager in an adult's body, aren't you?"

    "Eh."

    The two sat in silence for a moment before Stella chuckles softly, "You know what? You seemed excited about shots. Let's do shots!"

    Pietro chuckles softly, "Alright."

    Stella smiles and nods at the bartender, "Let's start with two shots of moonshine each."

    "Sure. Can I see your ID?" He asks. Stella just stares at him, hoping he would just go ahead and drop the question. HYDRA agents weren't allowed to have IDs, so neither she nor Pietro have them. It was so they couldn't be traced, but it led to moments such as this.

    Stella groans and holds up a hand, electricity crackling between her fingers, "No. You can't. But you can still make us drinks."

    The man freezes and Pietro stares, a little surprised. The man then begins pouring the drinks. Pietro says, "You're enhanced?"

    "Yep. I was a day away from meeting you and your sister before the attack on our base. Then you and her went missing," she smiles softly. She didn't usually tell the truth about much, but something about Pietro made her trust him. She thought for a moment that they could get along.

    "Really?" He chuckles in slight surprise. She nods before their drinks are handed to them by a terrified bartender. Stella slides one of the small glasses to Pietro.

    "You ever done this before?"

    "Have you?"

    Stella takes the shot in response, cocking an eyebrow competitively. Pietro looked a little surprised, but then put the shot between his fingers. He took a deep breath before taking the shot quickly, then grimaced.

    "You haven't," Stella chuckles softly. "Wow. I didn't expect that."

    Pietro gives her a look, "And what did you expect?"

    "Aren't you supposed to be Pietro Maximoff, party animal, womanizer, et cetera?" Stella asks. She was genuinely surprised.

    "Don't believe what people say. The only woman I've ever cared about is, as you said, a hostage to the Avengers. Parties are just excuses to meet women, and I'm not interested," he says. She watches him take the next drink, looking a little saddened to his time. Hostage. The word made him angry. He should go to her, now, drop the drinks and go.

    "Hey bud, you know what? We're getting your sister back," she says. "But for tonight, you just returned from the underworld. You're gonna have a little fun, alright? We'll go to Wanda in the morning. How's that sound?"

    Pietro smiles softly at Stella, "That sounds pretty good."

    They sat in silence for a moment before they realized the bartender on the phone, talking quietly. Stella groans, standing, "C'mon, bud. We're leaving. He's calling the cops."

    Pietro stands up and nods, starting to leave. Stella follows and puts her hand on his arm, holding it gently so they wouldn't get separated. He looks at her for a moment, a little surprised. He then smiles and lets her hold onto his arm as he leads her out.

    "Another bar or a club?" Stella asks.

    "I... I don't go to clubs," he says.

    "Why? Too many girls in miniskirts?" Stella asks. "Is it too much for poor, poor pitiful Pietro?"

    "It... It's not my scene."

    "Are you seriously trying to convince me that you don't even like clubbing?"

    "I've never been clubbing," he chuckles. Stella just groans. "I'll try it. Just this once, since I'm already a bit off. What damage could it do?"

    "Exactly," she says. "Now you've got your head screwed on right."

    Pietro looked at her like she was insane, but the way she said it was oddly fond. He could really tell that they would make something pretty special, "Since when was that an expression?"

    "Since always," she says, leading him to a club nearby. "Don't dwell on it, bud. We got drinks to drink and dances to dance."

    He just smiles, opening the door for her. She walks in and he follows close behind. There wasn't even a bouncer (you'll have to thank poor regulations for that...), so they were able to enter without a problem. Stella pulled him straight to the bar, and he didn't resist. As soon as she looks away, though, Pietro speeds away, inspecting the space carefully. He then returns before Stella even knew he was gone. She hands him a glass full almost to the brim with a clear liquid and ice.

    "It's just vodka, but it's good enough. Drink up," she says. Pietro was understandably surprised after a moment, since she managed to down the whole glass as if it was water.

    "Jesus, how often—"

    "Bud, you don't want to know," she says, starting to walk away towards a mass of people. Pietro just stares after. She was completely perplexing, but he had a sudden inclination to learn every last detail about the spunky blonde.

    By the time they were leaving, Stella could hardly walk due to how exhausted she was. For this reason, Pietro carried her. She had her arms around his neck, and he didn't run so they could chat. Plus, he expected the fatigue from hours of dancing to rush onto him like a wave.

    So far, over the course of the night, Pietro had figured a couple things out, one being: Stella was the most powerful, most confident, most independent person he had ever met. No matter what he or anyone else said to her, her happiness and confidence didn't waver. While they were dancing, some American man catcalled her. He had said something along the lines of "you have nice tits", with odd aggression in his voice.

    Pietro had heard this and had become livid. He was ready to fight this man, since Stella was his friend. So, when she didn't change a thing about how she moved, when she called back a swift "I know!", it made him stop completely. She didn't waver. She barely even reacted, only getting more confident. He had never seen anyone react that way.

    "That was fun, mm?" She asks close to Pietro's ear and bringing him back to reality. He just smiles softly.

    "That was fun..." he agrees quietly. The alcohol had come and gone from his system, leaving him surprisingly sober. He wasn't even tired. "Should we go back to the facility?"

    "Mm..." she hums softly. "And let's go to a hotel. I wanna try something..."

    Pietro nods and keeps walking until he reaches a nearby hotel. It was one of those hotels that seemed to be in every city, no matter if it was on the map or not. He walks in and Stella pulls out a handful of crumpled bills, throwing them on the desk. She was still kinda drunk, since she had continued drinking for the duration of the night. He had made sure she put good distance and a glass of water between each drink, though, since he didn't want her to drink too much.

    Pietro takes something that looked like a credit card from the man at the front desk, but with the hotel's logo on it instead of... any information. The number on the card said 412, so Pietro walks with Stella to the elevator. He lets her down, standing her up.

    "You know, you never told me how you and those other men brought me back," he says, keeping an arm around her so she wouldn't fall. Now that she was drunk, he was sure that she would be an open book.

    "To be fair, I don't know either. I did what they told me to and you sprung up after a couple hours," she says, leaning into him. Pietro nods, gently rubbing her arm. "I honestly didn't expect you to wake up... the others always said you would, though..."

    Pietro remains silent, letting her talk.

    "Some connection to your sister, I think..." she says. "That's why you're back..."

    "Wanda?" He asks. Stella nods. The elevator doors open and he brings her inside, pressing for the fourth floor.

    "Mhm... Wanda..." she says. Pietro purses his lips.

    "Oh..." he then bites his lip. "And what you said earlier, about wanting to try something, what was that?"

    "You'll see."

    Pietro sighs and holds her against him. They sat in silence for a few minutes before the elevator doors open. He slowly rests his head her shoulder, just thinking.

    Wanda didn't know. He had come back to life and instead of telling his sister, he went on a goddamn bender. He went clubbing. Good brothers don't do that. A good brother would've gone to her first thing.

    "What's on your mind, bud?" Stella asks, letting him stay where he is.

    "Nothing," he lies. The elevator dings and the doors open. Stella starts walking out, with Pietro following. Her soreness failed to hinder her, as everything else that night had done. She leads him to the hotel room, then takes the card from between his fingers and inserts it into some contraption on the door. A green light comes on and Stella opens the door. Pietro was too distracted by the curious little machine that he was only pulled out of his thoughts by Stella grabbing his sleeve, pulling him into the room.

    Stella goes to the bed and sits on it, then says, "Hey Piet?"

    "Yeah?" He asks. Nobody really called him Piet, so the nickname was a little new to him.

    "Wanna make out?"

    Pietro just stared at her for a moment, "Uh... what?"

    "You know what that means," she says. "You know you do."

    "I just... didn't expect that from you," he says.

    "Who? Me? The partially drunk girl who you've spent the night dancing with?" She says.

    "You are not partially drunk. I'm pretty sure you're wasted."

    "You're missing the point."

    "Just... not tonight," he goes into the bathroom and finds some complimentary makeup wipes, then returns to Stella. She was wearing quite a bit of smudged makeup, since she had dolled up with free testers at a makeup store halfway through the night. She stands up when she sees him.

    Stella crosses her arms sternly as he gently pushes her to sit on the bed again. "What? Are you... you know?"

    "Am I what?" He asks, confused as he wipes off her makeup for her.

    "You know what I'm talking about," she says sternly.

    "Stella, you should go to bed, okay?" He says. He finishes removing her makeup, then walks to the bed she was sitting on, since there were two in the room. He pulls down the covers and looks at her. "You've had a long night."

    "Just answer my question," she says sternly.

    "You have to do something for me first, okay?" He says. "Lay down under the covers and close your eyes, then count to 100. After you do that for me, I'll answer your question... whatever it's supposed to mean."

    Stella huffs and gets in the bed, closing her eyes and starting to count quietly. Pietro pulls the covers over her and hears her trail off right after managing to mutter thirty-two. He then goes to the other bed and sits, just watching her for a moment. She was kinda adorable when she didn't have a scary amount of pride in her expression.

    Pietro oddly didn't feel tired at all. He wasn't sore either. He had an odd amount of energy, though he wasn't so energetic that he knew sleep would require work. Sleep used to be a problem when he was with HYDRA. He never could sleep, and sometimes Wanda would have to manipulate his mind, though he only resorted to that after a week or so without sleep.

    There he was. Back to Wanda.

    He decides to sleep. Stella said they would see Wanda in the morning, and he trusted her. Therefore, he slowly lays down under the covers and closes his eyes, falling asleep only moments after.