Music is "Thanksgiving" by George Winston.

Picture is "Battle of New York".

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"We are all museums of fear."

-Charles Bukowski

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CHAPTER FIVE

When I found Pietro back on our floor of Stark tower, he was huddled into a corner with tears streaming down his face. His hands were shaking. Actually, I take that back. His entire being was shaking. Fear if the memories he's held back for so long has gripped him tight and is flinging him around like a rag doll. Fear takes delight in crushing the hearts of brave men. Even heroes can be frightened. Especially heroes.

I rush to his side, as I always do, but he rushes away from me to the other side of the room. "Pietro, honey, are you okay?"

Pietro rocks back and forth on his heels, grabbing his hair in his hands and tugging. His eyes are of a mad man. "N-No. No I am not. I am having t-trouble breathing, and my head feels as if it is going to implode. My hands are shaky, and I cannot shake the feeling of helplessness." He turns to look at me with pleading eyes. "I only felt like this when I was in Sokovia, orphaned and homeless, with Wanda."

I come to sit beside him, keeping a couple inches between us as to not set him off. "Let me help, baby."

"There is nothing you can do, nothing... Nothing you can do. I cannot..." He keeps mumbling those words over and over, beginning to rock back and forth again.

I've never seen Pietro so broken, so child-like. I never knew that his childhood still affected him so. Of course it still does. Traumatic events always leave their scars, as I know all too well, and something like this... I don't know if he'll ever fully be over it. I gently reach out and place my palm on his shoulder. "I'm here."

He looks over to me, and in a flash, has me in his arms and runs us to the bed before he completely breaks down and sobs against my neck. All I can do is hold him and whisper soothing things to him. I feel so helpless. I can't even keep myself from crying right along with him. "Make it go away," he whispers, holding me as tight as he possibly can. "The nightmares, the hauntings, make them go away." His breathing is off. "W-Wanda. Wanda."

· ~ · ~ · ~ ·

{Third Person P.O.V.}

Tony Stark shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The words that Glory and Pietro fired at him not a couple hours ago were not the first he'd heard regarding the announcement he made, and they certainly weren't the last. Between Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Carol Danvers, and many other Avengers' visits, Tony knew that it would only be a matter of time before Steve found his way towards the office.

It was precisely at eight o'clock that evening that the super soldier arrived to exchange words with the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Steve swore to himself, on Peggy Carter's grave, that he would uphold the righteous standards he died for. He would make sure that the unique people of the world were treated right, that their civil rights wouldn't be tainted by the fear of ordinary people in power. He thought that Tony Stark also believed this.

Even heroes can be lead astray.

"Tony, we need to talk," Steve says, nodding to Pepper as he passes her on her way out of the office where Mr. Stark had spent his day reacting to the differentiating press opinions.

"I figured you'd come around sooner or later, Steve," he replies. "Please, have a seat."

Steve stands strong and crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw locking in place in a grimace. "Tony, this isn't a friendly visit."

Tony sighs, placing his non-alcoholic beverage down. "It doesn't have to be hostile, Rogers. I simply made a statement to aid a certain party. You do that all the time with your patriotic crap."

"You're saying you support the people who are locking the Next Gen. Mutants up, is that right?" Steve asks. "You're saying you agree that they're dangerous."

"No!" Tony corrects, shocked by Steve's choice of words as his eyes grow wide. "No, not at all. I think they should register. That's all the Superhero Registration Act says. It says that any person having the ability to use a power - whether it be the mutant gene, or an accident that gave them an ability, or even a man-made power or tool like my armour - has to register their name, age, and other information. They will also have to be trained by a government physicality to use those powers wisely." Tony sighs. "It's logical, Steve-o. It's not hurting anyone-"

"-Not hurting anyone?" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. "It shouldn't be the government's decision to make anyone give up their secret identity. People like Peter Parker can't protect themselves from people like Ultron. Imagine if someone like Black Death had known his identiy."

"You know about Parker?" Tony looks surprised, raising one eyebrow.

Steve nods. "Glory told us that he will become a valuable asset. Carol is going to bring him in soon, but he's only twenty-three, Stark. He has an Aunt, a girlfriend, family he cares for. What if someone hurt them?"

"We can offer them protection."

"All the time? No. That might happen for the first month, maybe two, but the government would pull that out as soon as they had their control, and that's all they want, Stark. Don't be fooled. They just want to control the powerful people because they fear us."

Tony folds his hands together and stares at the floor. "So you're not going with me on this, are you, Cap?"

Steve Rogers sighs deeply, the weight of his next words already weighing him down. "Tony, you are, and always will be, my friend. I care for you deeply, but I will not allow the government to take more than its fair share of power."

"Are you sure this isn't just the '40s talking?" Tony smirks.

Steve gives a small smile that quickly fades. "I haven't been like I was for years, Tony. I stand firm in this decision. As do Glory, the twins, Vision, Clint, Fury, Strange and Clea, Sharon Carter, Bucky, Hank Pym and Scott Lang, Nat, and the Next Gen. Mutants."

"I've already had Sam and Rhodey say they agree with me, or at least the act," Tony says solemnly, for he knows that Sam going against Steve will hurt him dearly. "Carol and Maria, too."

Stevie glances up at Tony through tired and sad eyes. "I'm so-"

"-Glory and Pietro will be moving back with you in a day or so," Stark adds. "I assume Nat, Wanda, and Vison will be going with them." He chuckles to himself. "My boy moving out so soon. How fast they grow up."

"There's still a chance we can work this out peacefully, Tony," Steve adds, almost begs. "War will mean people die, and I will fight you on this. This is a violation of civil rights."

"Civil righs assume that they're normal people. They aren't."

Steve nods, accepting the fact that he and Tony will be waging war over this. "Goodbye, Tony. I'm sorry."

"Goodbye, Cap, but I'm not."

· ~ · ~ · ~ ·

{Glory's P.O.V.}

To say I nearly knocked the door down to Wanda's apartment on our floor was an understatement. I could hear the hinges rattle every time I slammed my fists against the wood. "Wanda!" I shouted. "Wanda, wake the hell up!"

The brunette woman opens the door, her eyes glowing red under her tangled hair. "What do you want, Glory? It's late!"

"Pietro needs you," I say, out of breath. "He's crying, freaking out, calling for you." A couple tears fall down my cheeks. "I didn't know what else to do."

Wanda's eyes dull down to green again and they enlarge, fear entering them. She pushes past the door, takes my hand, and we run off to my room. "What happened, sister?"

I tell her everything, from visiting Tony, the paparazzi, the fight, and bad memories. She whimpers, no doubt her mind going back to those terrible days she and her twin spent alone and afraid on the rebellious streets of Sokovia.

Once we enter the room, we see my love still laying in our bed, just as I told him to stay. He's clutching a pillow to his chest and face, tears silently streaming still. Every now and then he flinches and twists, his body contouring with obvious anguish.

"Pietro!" Wanda shouts, hurrying to her brother's side. She slips in beside him onto the matress, wrapping her slender arms around his shoulders. Surprisingly, he allows her close. He doesn't even fight her, unlike he did with me. His strong arms slip around her waist and he allows her to comfort him, stroking his back and running her fingers through his bleached curls.

Soon they're speaking in Sokovian to each other, and a realization hits me: there are some things, no matter how close Pietro and I are, that he cannot share with me. Some things can only be told to Wanda, because of their shared experiences. Horror like that of being orphaned in a country in Cold War upheaval can't be told idly to another soul.

Seeing that I'm invading their twin moment, I quietly step out from the room and into the hallway, bumping into a wide awake Vision in the process. "Oh, hi Visi," I whisper, giving him a small smile. "What's up?"

Vision looks upwards. "The ceiling, Ms. Northern, but I assume that you meant what is happening?"

I chuckle softly, walking with the android towards Wanda and his kitchen in their part of the floor. "Do you mind?" I motion towards the fridge.

"Not at all. I do not require physical nourishment, so please."

"Thanks." I open it, squinting at the brightness of the refrigerator light.

"How are Wanda and Pietro fairing?" Vision asks, taking a seat on the bar stool at the island.

I shrug. "Pietro was having a panic attack, crying and asking for Wanda. Course, this isn't the first time it's happened, but this time seems... different." I pull out the milk and chocolate sauce. "I got Wanda and she seems to be helping him..." I trail off.

"Something troubles you," Vision says, not needing to be the Scarlet Witch to know when I'm being bothered.

I close the fridge and pour myself a glass of milk, stirring the chocolate syrup into it with a straw. "I just wish it was me," I sigh. "And I know that's extremely selfish. I should just be glad he's getting help, and I know the twins' relationship is extremely close. To some people, it might even appear taboo, but I know better. They went through hell together. I know that there are some things I will never know. I know I will never be able to comfort him on those subjects like she can."

"This bothers you?" he asks, softly, like the good friend he is.

I take the seat across from him. "I don't know. I just get this feeling in my chest whenever she can help him and I can't. I just wish..."

"You wish you could help, but in certain situations, you feel helpless, yes?"

I look up at him. "Exactly."

"You forget that, though Wanda helps Pietro quite often, Pietro comes to Wanda's rescue as well. I agree with what you said. I often experience those... feelings myself, if I could feel feelings as humans describe them. I am an artificial being. I... feel deeply, similar to Wanda but on a more mechanical and technological level, but there are certain things that I cannot give her. A family, a person who will always understand the complexities of human emotion perfectly-"

I cut him off with a chuckle. "Visi, no matter what anyone tells you, humans don't understand human emotion perfectly either. We make it up as we learn, and don't count out a family. Something tells me that you and Wanda will have one sooner or later."

A small smile curves on his lips. "What I mean is that I understand what ails you. Pietro and Wanda are very close, and they will be for the rest of their lives, and we should try to understand and respect that closeness. I know I have helped Wanda, especially in those years Pietro was gone. Pietro couldn't go on without you, Glory. Don't ever think otherwise. They are the only Maximoffs left, and because of that they will always have a bond that no one on the planet will be able to share with them. Even so, we are their family now as well."

A grin forms on my face as I take Vision's hand and squeeze it affectionately. "Thank you, Vision. You are more human that you care to admit."

"What will you do now?" he asks after I finish my cup of chocolate milk.

"I think I owe my family a call, don't you?" I hop down from the counter, believe me that is not an easy task for a pregnant the woman, and walk towards the empty hallway.

I've learned over the past few months that the quietest part of the tower is normally the roof. It's high up, away from all the traffic noises that come with the territory of New York City, and no one likes the cold. I guess I'm braver than most.

One at the top, I take a deep breath and pull out my cell phone. Tony had made me my own A.I. program for it, calling it E.L.F., an acronym for Elves Live Forever, but it's mainly for Aspen. She said if she were ever a superhero, she would be called Elf.

"E.L.F., call Rebecca Sokolov."

"Ms. Northern, that number is blocked."

"Unblock and call, please."

I wait as the phone rings. My heart is pounding. "Hello?"

"Hey... Mother."

"...Gloria?"

"Yeah, it's been a long time."

END CHAPTER FIVE