Peter Maximoff struggles. 

He hates the way HYDRA’s marks continue to linger on his pale, snow-white skin, serving as a permanent reminder of the torture that still lives fresh in his brain and refuses to give Peter tranquility. 

It’s an itch that lives in Peter’s mind and no matter how hard he tries, the itch refuses to leave. 

Peter doesn’t like this place. It’s cold and the people here took his stuff away from him. He wants his clownfish stuffie. A sniffling ten year old Peter leaned into the inviting warmth Pietro offers as he does his very best to not freak out at the very fact that his sister lays unconscious in the cell next to the one he and Pietro shares, and her veins are glowing a bright scarlet hue. 

And Pietro’s hair has tips of white as he moves incredibly fast, like a blur of blue that was supposed to be the New York sky with white puffy clouds, filled with promise and a chance of the famous so called “golden opportunity”. Anything but this. 

This ticket of doom and forever lasting torture and pain. 

He latched himself onto Pietro and refused to let go no matter what reassurances the latter whispered into his ear as he held the former tight against his chest, wishing that he hadn’t been so naive and desperate. Because maybe, if he took a minute to fully assess the proposal handed to him, he wouldn’t be sitting wracked with guilt as his sister is unconscious from illegal human experimentation, and his baby brother weeping to go home.

The older brother, who was supposed to protect his younger siblings from the harms life would throw at them bit back a flood of tears as he fights the urge to sob at how wrecked his younger brother looks after being impaled with at least ten needles and whimpered to just be held. 

Peter sobbed, “‘ietro, I want to go home!”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell those far too innocent eyes that they don’t have a home anymore. 

That they’re too far from home. 

If you consider their nuked, burnt down house home.

And ever since they finally escaped HYDRA, Peter expected a feeling of relief like a weight off his shoulders. Except, all he felt was the continuous worry that HYDRA was still coming to take him away. He longed to be able to breathe freely, yet he’s trapped in the repetitive past on a loop. 

He’s scared to be alone, because whenever he’s alone, that’s when the bad things happen. 

He doesn’t need a look at the big picture, he prefers to take a good look at pieces of little pictures. 

He’s scared, is this going to be his life?

Trapped in the past, and unable to venture forth?

He knows he’s safe, but he can’t help the thoughts that spiral out of control when he’s alone in the dark, perfectly vulnerable to the demons of his own creating. 

….

A

loud voice brings him back to reality, “Mister Maximoff, what do you think the answer to number three is?”

Peter snapped from the horrors of his past and replied, “If we follow the y=mx+b format, a parallel line to y=5x+6 would be any line with 5x as it’s slope.”

The teacher merely nodded with a stern reprimenadent, “Please don’t fall asleep in my class. Next time detention.”

Peter ignored the tantalizing laughter of his classmates as a light pink blush crept up his cream-colored cheeks, slightly leaning forward in his seat to try and fend off the humiliation, blood running cold as he heard the echo of a heavy German accent tsk, “You’re pathetic, not even worth the blessings HYDRA has to offer.”

Peter didn’t know how long they’ve been in this scary place, but he already hates it. The people treat him like he’s mere filth, a piece of gum on expensive shoes. 

They laugh when he cries, they laugh when he’s scared, and they make sure they inflict their mark on the already terrified boy. 

They tell him that if he continues to misbehave, they’ll take him away from Pietro and Wanda, the only two people that he has left. 

And it works. The seven year old boy stiffens as the doctor he’s begun to resent plunges the needle into his soft flesh, and doesn’t even flinch as a guttural scream escaped through Peter’s trembling lips. 

The doctor harshly smacked Peter across the face, taking the latter by surprise, “That wasn’t even round one, you’re pathetic, not even worth the blessings HYDRA Has to offer. Pathetic scum.”

Peter bit down hard on his lip, hard enough to draw blood and kept the panic attack at bay. 

He gently shook his head, he couldn’t have a panic attack now, the kids would only laugh, and taunt him more for being different, an outsider as they like to call him. 

All because of what?

Because “his accent’s weird”, or “he doesn’t talk to us, he’s a freak”. Honestly, just pick your favorite reason. 

Peter hates school, he hates the people here to be exact, but in America, all the kids have to go to school, and he doesn’t want to disappoint Wanda and Pietro, so he keeps the aches all in his heart. 

He’s on the verge to another memory resurfacing and it takes everything within him not to scream. 

Needless to say, Peter was the first one out the door when the bell rang. 

He quickly rushed to his next class, accidentally bumping into the last person he wanted to see: Flash. 

Peter felt a harsh shove send him flying past as he crashed into a row of steel lockers, letting a small wince form on his face as he felt his Spidey Senses tingling. He groaned as he tilted his head up and found a sneer scrawled over Flash’s features.

Peter didn’t see Flash just his fist into his abdomen, but felt the collision, and certainly the pain that followed after. 

Flash spat, “Watch where you’re going Maximoff.” The last word rolled off like venom as he spat, “Or, I’ll have to teach you a thing or to.”

Peter felt his heart lurch, he heard those words before, and they only meant one thing: punishment. 

Peter clutched tight to Pietro’s shirt, tightly fisting the cotton material as he sobbed against Pietro’s unconscious body. The seven year old sobbed, “Pietro! You have to wake up!” He furiously tugged on Pietro’s sleeve, cries intensifying as Pietro still remained unconscious next to Wanda who was in a similar state pleading, “You have to wake up, or they’ll take me away to the scary room.”

No response. 

The sobbing seven-year old kicked away the men who were attempting to pry him off of Pietro crying out, “Pietro, Wanda, please! I don’t want the needles, they hurt! Pietro, please!” A heart-wrenching sob tore through the seven year old as he was forcefully lifted off his siblings and dragged to the experimentation room. 

There, guards restrained him down as Peter tried to squirm away when the Head Doctor came in with disgust scrawled over his Russian features. He spoke in a heavy German accent, “Tie the vermin down. It looks like I’ll have to teach him a thing or two. Leave us.”

Peter blinked as Flash’s fist rammed into his abdomen, sending a groan to escape his lips as another punch was soon to follow. 

The doctor leered over Peter, hands tracing the outline of Peter’s fragile frame, causing the child to kick the doctor’s hand away in fear as the tears welled up in his eyes. The doctor tsked, and harshly slapped the boy across his face, taking him by utter surprise. 

Then came a kick to the shin as Flash taunted, “You’re such a loser, with your weird accent, you’re not from here, so why the hell do you still show up?” 

The doctor venomously chuckled, “Just who do you think you are you mewling quim? You are nothing but insolence, when you signed up for us. You know, I could kill you right now if I wanted to. So if I were you, I’d shut my trap.”

Peter mumbled loosely, “Jeez Flash, I’m sorry. Just leave me alone!”

Flash merely chuckled, “Sure thing.” He sent a harsh smack against Peter’s pale skin and continued to kick Peter harder in the ribs, making sure he left bruises that would serve as a reminder of their encounter. 

As if Peter didn’t already have enough. 

Flash chuckled, “Nah, I don’t think so. You’re so pathetic, it’s a crime if I don’t put you in your place.”

The doctor tsked, “You will know your place pathetic boy.” He plunged the needle into Peter’s flesh, barely flinching at the scream that followed not too long after. If anything, he looked bothered, “You don’t deserve the greatness HYDRA has to offer.”

Flash continued his taunting as he kept beating the crap out of Peter.

“Look how skinny you are, either fucking eat like a man, or fucking die.”

A swift kick to the ribs. 

The needle immediately sent it’s contents spurring through Peter’s veins, bringing a sense of ache that Peter had never felt before as his body felt like it was lit on fire. Peter’s tiny arms trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks. His face was contorted into an expression of pain when the doctor slammed another needle through his skin. The doctor merely chuckled at the boy’s discomfort, “You are weak young one. You will break the easiest.”

“You’re such a dumbass, it’s a fucking wonder that you’re here.”

Peter had only been living in his new Avenger-American life for about a month, and somewhere along the past few days was the phrase “school” mentioned. Peter quickly shot down that idea, wanting to stay with his siblings because truth be told, he didn’t feel safe. He missed Sokovia, even though he was here to live a better life and finally get the “golden opportunity” they were owed so many years ago. But Peter didn’t know much about this lifestyle, he was an outsider. He didn’t fit in anywhere. 

The first day of school sent Peter home in tears. What he told everyone else was a completely different story. Peter preferred to tell them what he wished would’ve happened. Maybe, if he told it enough times to himself his dreams would one day become a reality. 

“You know why you have no friends, it’s because no one here wants you. Go back to your country, and don’t ever come back.”

The same German accent rang through Peter’s trembling ears, “You keep resisting the inevitable. Quite frankly, we don’t want you, your siblings on the other hand, have proven quite remarkable, miraculous. I’d love to send you back to your country to die, but then your siblings wouldn’t cooperate, but remember, you’re only alive to keep them in line.” 

“Pathetic loser.”

“Freak.”

Once more than enough damage was done, Flash merely spat on Peter’s face and sauntered away, chuckling about how much of a freak Peter was. 

A broken-hearted and bloodied Peter lay unconscious by the lockers, blood trickling down the side of his face, and bruises littering every inch of visible skin. He heard someone calling out to him, but he was too weak to respond. The next thing he knew, his eyes fluttered into a dark abyss. 

When his conscious returned, he heard hushed whispers and light glaring against his closed eyelids. His eyes slowly fluttered awake to find himself not where he had fallen unconscious. He slowly moved to sit up but heard the thick Sokovian accent of his brother who spoke, Peter, I’ve got you, just lie down, okay?” 

He stifled a groan as he felt warm hands graze his face, reminding him of the simpler times as he realized that he was on his bed, snuggled in his red and blue comforter.  

A femimine voice that he recognized as Wanda asked concerned, “Peter, what happened, mysh?”

Peter slowly sat up as the day’s events came flooding through him as he shook his head, “Hm? I’m fine, must’ve just passed out or something.”

Pietro flashed him a concerned look, “Pete, you covered in bruises and blood, something happened. Talk to us, we want to help you Peter.” 

That was all it took for Peter to melt into sobs as he threw himself around Pietro’s neck. 

Both twins looked equally shocked at Peter’s outburst, but Pietro wrapped his arms tightly around his younger brother, softly cradling the hyperventilating teenager and guiding his head into the crook of his neck. 

Pietro softly stroked Peter’s trembling back asking gently, “Peter, what’s wrong?”

Peter didn’t respond for a few moments before hiccuping, “Everything.”

Wanda and Pietro shared looks of concern. Wanda’s fingers intertwined with Peter’s, “Peter, what do you mean?”

Peter replied in a somewhat angry tone, “I hate this! I hate how I keep remembering HYDRA and I keep getting nightmares! I hate how no matter how hard I try to fit in I can’t and everyone hates me! I hate this place! I want to go home!” 

The waterworks combusted once again as he melted into Pietro’s chest, not caring how babyish he sounded. He was so tired of keeping all the ache inside his heart, and he needed to let it out. 

Pietro carded his fingers through Peter’s stubborn curls, “Peter, what do you mean everyone hates you? We love you, along with the team. So, so much.”

Wanda added, “Mysh, we’ll make it better, what nightmares?” 

Peter chose to answer Wanda’s question first, “I know we’re safe from HYDRA but I can’t help but think that they’ll find us, and they’ll take us away and kill us. I know we’re safe with the Avengers, but I can’t help being scared.”

He thickly swallowed, continuing, “I hate school. The kids are so mean and they make fun of me because I’m not like them. I’m weird and different. I hate school and I never want to go there ever again!”

The tears started all over again as Pietro rocked him gently, whispering soft reassurances into his ears as he clutched his brother tight to his chest. Either twin could only look helplessly as their younger sibling melt into the ache that had consumed him for God knows how long. 

How many fake smiles had Peter put on for them?

Pietro cupped Peter’s face forcing him to meet his eyes, “Peter, why didn’t you tell us? We would’ve helped you and tried to make it better.”

Peter lowly replied, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Pietro wiped Peter’s tears with his thumb pads, “Peter, you’re not a burden.” 

Wanda rubbed Peter’s back as she hugged him tightly, “Peter, we’re your older sister and brother, it’s our job to make sure that you’re okay. Who are the mean kids Peter, what are they saying?”

Peter shook his head, “It’s stupid.”

Wanda hummed in disagreement, “Peter, if it’s bothering you, then it’s not stupid.” 

Peter asked in a far too childish tone, “Do you think I’m weird? Or dumb?”

Wanda shook her head, letting Peter rest his head on her lap while Pietro traced patterns on his feet, “Never Peter, you’re not weird or dumb, so what if you’re from a different country. You’re special Peter, in a way that they can never compete with.” She moved her hand to run through Peter’s locks of curls, “Whatever mean things those kids say to you, they’re wrong, you hear me? You, Peter Djando Maximoff are the strongest, bravest, and smartest person I know. Smarter than Pietro, but that’s everyone. Got me?”

Peter let out a watery chuckle as Pietro exclaimed protest. 

Pietro finished, “And don’t worry about HYDRA bud. I know it sounds easier said than done, but trust me, trust your big brother that you’re safe now. And if HYDRA does try to take you, or us again, they’ll have to go through the entire Avengers, got me? The next time you get these nightmares, you can come to either me or Wanda, anytime, even if it’s in the middle of the night, okay? And so what if you’re different, that doesn’t give those punks any of an excuse to treat you like that, me and Wanda will handle that, alright? Want us to lie down with you?”

Peter nodded, adjusting himself so he was leaning against Pietro’s back as Wanda draped the covers over the trio, and snuggled on the opposite side of Peter. 

A/N: I dedicate this fic to one of my bestest internet friends KawaiiCutieCorn cause I know how much she loves Peter, as well as Wanda and Pietro, so I hope you like it Mia!