Rose had been met with the same sense of tranquility the twins shared, and despite still feeling nervous about the coming night, she wasn’t overwhelmed with dread. It was an improvement in and of itself, and she was happy to have the time to spend with her friends without worrying about death and despair.
She snorted at Tate’s comment, the word ‘adorable’ not exactly being the first word she’d think of to describe Pietro. But as she watched the twins reunite with their home, she really noticed the softer expression that had taken hold of his face, and she couldn’t quite suppress her own smile, or the way it suddenly felt like butterflies could burst through her stomach at any time. Not wanting to betray her probably very clear affection, Rose elbowed Tate in a teasing sort of retaliation and moved to where her bag had been set down. As she did, she called over her shoulder, “Jeeze, you two. Get a room!”
He took Wanda into his arms easily, as if she fit there – two pieces of one puzzle. “I know. Me too,” he spoke softly, gaze not leaving the seemingly endless expanse of green. His smile was softer now, more sombre as he thought of their parents. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, only tilting his head when Wanda continued. Pietro’s smile actually grew at her words, and he turned into her, kissing the top of her head. “Te iubesc foarte mult, soră,” he mumbled near her ear.
All the stress in the world seemed to melt away as they stood there together, watching their home. It was as if the snow had wiped the slate clean. Evil had its place there, a deep sense of guilt and grief squeezing Pietro’s gut as he thought of Django. But it was only a moment, and it seemed to disappear as quickly as it had arrived. He knew there was no use focusing on their pain, not when their love for their home and for the good memories that had taken place there was stronger. Hopefully, they could make some more there. Rose’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, and Pietro turned suddenly, hand sliding down to hold Wanda’s as they walked back over. The man’s smile had returned, and he beamed at his two friends. “It is perfect, is it not?” Noticing Rose’s bag, his eyes glanced over the tent again, thoughts racing through his head once again. “Is zhis okay? Do we have enough food? Do we?”
Rose’s comment pulled Wanda out of her moment with Pietro, but definitely not in a way she minded. After all, this night was for the four of them, it was about the twins bringing people into their life to the fullest extent. There was nobody else she’d rather share this location with, and nothing could possibly dampen her mood now. She walked alongside her other half, her smile vibrant as they approached the remainder of their party. “Oh, Pietro! Do not worry so much, everyz’hing is perfect. As it always is here.” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, darkness had settled over this mountain before. But Wanda was too happy to notice, for the first time in a long time, she felt nothing but joy, and it showed. She practically sang as she spoke, hands moving enthusiastically. “Z’he food is plenty. But maybe we should eat some right now, yes? I am very hungry.”
“Wanda’s right, y’know.” Tate pitched in, reassuring Pietro. It was wonderful, and it was making Wanda feel wonderful, so Tate was already happy, and the evening hadn’t even began properly yet. Still tired from the walk, he went and sat beside the campfire, gesturing for the others to join him. “Girls get grouchy when they’re hungry, better get the food ready.” He actually fancied a snack or two himself, which was rare, considering his recent change in species.
Silent and still, Pietro continued to stare, the answering shake of his head the only sign that he could hear his friend at all. He knew Tate was holding his hand, touching his skin – he could see it in his peripheral vision. But other than that there was nothing. It was as if his soul had literally left his body for a moment, leaving behind an empty, numb shell. Wherever his spirit had gone, every inch of him hoped it had gone to find Wanda, because he knew he couldn’t be without her. He wasn’t living if he wasn’t with her.
Tate’s words had his own eyes suddenly filling with tears, watching as the hole in the wall became blurry. No, she wasn’t there, and the rational part of him knew that was a good thing. But he was far from rational right now, and feeling nothing, not even his twin,terrified him. He hadn’t shed a single tear since he’d been thrown into the cells; he had never wanted Coin or her guards to have the satisfaction of seeing his grief. He didn’t want Tate to get upset, didn’t want to distract Rose from her job. But every ounce of restraint and stubbornness had fled the moment it had ticked over to midnight, and Pietro’s fear and loss began to catch up with him. When Tate’s words finally registered, he actually turned his head, meeting his friend’s gaze. Blinking, letting the unnoticed tears spill down his cheeks, he chose to stare at Tate instead, trying to draw strength from the love he had for his best friend. “You will try?” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, but his words held so much desperation and hope within them, it was as if he’d shouted.
Sometimes feeling no pain was worse than feeling everything, and understanding that, Tate’s own heart ached with sympathy for his best friend. It wasn’t fair, and although he wasn’t sure because of previous circumstances, he couldn’t imagine a time where the twins were ever apart, at least not for this long. It was wrong. Everything about it waswrong. If Tate wasn’t so focused on comforting his cell mate, he’d have felt an uncontrollable amount of anger about the situation.
Guilt took Tate over when he saw Pietro begin to cry, but he knew honesty was best. So he didn’t apologise, despite feeling a need to. It was the first time he’d noticed Pietro show his intense sadness, he’d been so… strong, for lack of a better word, up until this point. He’d actually supported Tate instead, after the Capitol Gala had left him confused and uncomfortable. But now the bricks had shifted, and everything he’d been pushing away had surfaced. And Tate, being Tate, knew he had to do anything he possibly could to make that hurt go away. He’d go so far as punching a guard if he had to, although the consequences of that would be severe. “Yeah, man. I’ll spend all day tryin’. Allweekif I have to. Anythin’ for you.” Their eyes met, and he gave a small nod of determination, as if it would actually work. If not… he’d lied often enough before. And this time it would be for a good cause, right?
